Chapter VII: Part 7

“Indeed I will, thank you, Jewelweed,” said the Humming Bird, “and it is indeed good of you to save your sweetness for me.”

“Ah, our families have been friends for so many years,” said the Jewelweed, “and I like to do as my family have always done.”

“I must be off now,” said the Humming Bird, “for as I have only just arrived I have a good many calls to make. There are a number of my flower friends who are expecting me to call as soon as I arrive. But may I come and see you again?”

“Oh, indeed yes,” said the Jewelweed, “and you will always be welcome. Make your other calls, but come back again soon.”

“I’ll be back soon,” said Mr. Humming Bird. “I have had such a charming call and it has been such a pleasure to feel that my visit has been so welcome.”

“Your visits are always welcome and always will be,” said the Jewelweed, “just so long as there are Jewelweeds and Humming Birds!”

MAY 28: Peter’s Birthday Party

“A little dog named Peter Murray,” said daddy, “was just one year old. His Mistress was a little girl named Inez and she was almost fonder of Peter Murray than of anything else in the world. Inez sent out invitations several days in advance to a number of the little boys and girls she knew who owned pet dogs. The invitations read:

‘Mr. Dog Peter Murray,
At Home,
In Honor of his First Birthday.’

“All of the little dogs who were invited accepted and the day of the party came at last. The first thing that Inez did that morning was to rush over to Peter Murray’s basket and say ‘Many happy returns.’ Now, of course, Peter Murray woke right up and was out of his basket with a bound.

“He jumped up and down for Inez, which was his way of saying, ‘Thank you, Missy,’ and he wagged his tail for all he was worth.

“‘We have lots to do to-day, Peter Murray,’ said Inez, and Peter Murray knew just what she meant. He put his head first on one side and then on the other. And when he saw Inez take a little purse out of her pocket and jingle some pennies he put his ears up in the air as if to say:

“‘What do those funny things mean?’

“‘They mean,’ said Inez, ‘that we must get goodies for the party, bones and such things.’

“Now, when Peter heard the word ‘bones’ he wagged his tail, for he knew perfectly well what bones meant.

“At last the time for the party came. And such a time as they did have. Every little dog brought Peter Murray a present. He got wonderful things, too. He was given a great pink bow and a new collar by his Mistress, which, of course, he wore to the party. Then he received a fine hard ball, a stick to play with, a second-best collar and a box of chocolates, for Peter Murray loved candy, too.

“‘Supper time,’ shouted Inez, and all the little dogs wagged their tails and jumped for the bones that Inez threw up in the air, until every little dog had one.

“You see they were not fussy like people, and didn’t sit down to eat their bones, for they had much fun throwing them up in the air and playing with them. And then came the ice-cream, which they ate out of little bowls, and for a surprise they had wonderful sugary cake, with a little dog made in sugar on the top of it! Inez cut the cake, for in each piece she had to take out a little bell which were the presents Peter Murray gave to his guests on his birthday!”

MAY 29: The Spring Flowers’ Talk

“Good-by, good-by,” called the trailing arbutus family. “It’s getting a bit too late for us. We will be around next spring, though.”

“Good-by, good-by,” said the hepatica family. “We will miss you, but we’re going ourselves soon. We’re glad to have seen you. How lovely and pink you were this year.”

“And how lovely and blue you were!” said the trailing arbutus flowers. “Some of you were the most wonderful shades of lavender and purple and even pink and white!”

“We like to have different colored frocks,” they said. But then fearing that they might hurt the feelings of the trailing arbutus family they added:

“We wouldn’t care about it, though, if we had the lovely pink dresses you have!”

“Thank you, thank you,” said the trailing arbutus family. “We’re very grateful to you.”

“Well, good-by,” said the hepatica family.

“Good-by,” said the arbutus family.

“Next spring, next spring,” added the hepatica family.

“Yes, next spring, next spring,” said the arbutus family.

“And we’ll come again, too,” said the little wild violets. “We’re early spring flowers, you know.”

“Of course you are, dear little violets,” said the arbutus and hepatica families together. “Next spring, then, little wild violets.”

“Next spring,” the violets whispered very softly.

MAY 30: Decoration Day

“The soldiers who have fought for their country should indeed be remembered by placing on their graves the flag for which they fought—the flag for which they gave up everything,” said daddy, on Decoration day.

“Not only is Decoration day a memorial to the brave men who have lived and died for their country, but it should help to make us worthy of these men who gave their all,” he ended.

MAY 31: What the Flag Said to Fred

“There was once a little boy named Fred,” said daddy. “He was very fond of soldiers and bands. He had a great many little toy soldiers, and he would have the most wonderful drills with them. Last Memorial day his grandfather, who had since died, had given him a little, old, ragged flag. But it was the stars and stripes, and Fred cherished it. His grandfather had fought in the Civil War and all through that war had carried the little flag. Now his grandfather was gone, and yesterday they had put a fresh flag on his grave. But Fred had the little flag that had been through the war.

“That night he was very tired, and he went to bed early. The cool white sheets and soft pillow were delightful to a very sleepy little boy, but soon he seemed to be sitting up on the pillow, and before him was the flag.

“‘I have come,’ said the little flag, ‘because I thought you would like me to talk to you. Your grandfather went to the Civil War, as you know.

“‘He was so brave in the war, and, oh, I was so proud while I was with him all the time that it was for my sake he was fighting! It’s the most wonderful thing in the world to be a flag even if you’re in rags.’”

JUNE 1: The Robin Parents

“Over a little balcony,” said daddy, “where a lady used to sit and sew, there were several roofs adjoining and going off from different sides of the balcony, and there were eaves running along the balcony. In the spring a Mr. and Mrs. Robin looked about them for their home. ‘How about this?’ asked Mr. Robin. He was pointing to the eaves right over the little balcony.

“‘There is some one there,’ said Mrs. Robin, ‘but she looks very nice and as though she wouldn’t hurt a little bird for anything. I think it is perfectly safe. See, she is looking at us and her voice is low, and she is not frightening us. She is speaking to us; listen to what she says.’ And they listened and heard the lady say: ‘Dear little robins, have you come to call on me?’

“‘Ah, her voice is so sweet and so nice, and she really seems to be glad to see us. Let us build our nest here.’

“‘I think it will be a good idea,’ said Mr. Robin.

“So they built their nest under the eaves, right over the balcony where all day the lady sat, most of the time sewing, some of the time reading.

“She would have visitors there, too, and sometimes she would tell them of the robins who were so near-by, but she always saw that no one frightened the robins, and that they were well looked after.

“She used to put bread-crumbs on the roof near the eaves. And a little pan of water was always there, too, for bathing or for drinking!

“Mr. and Mrs. Robin built a lovely big nest, and there Mrs. Robin laid the eggs. After a little while the baby robins came, poor little timid creatures, with scarcely any feathers at all.

“But Mr. and Mrs. Robin loved them and thought they were beautiful, just as boys and girls think their little baby brothers and sisters are beautiful, even if they have no hair on their heads—in fact, they like them that way, for then they look so appealing and so cunning and so helpless and yet so glad to be in the world. Usually Mother Robin guarded the nest, while Father Robin went off for food, for he was a very fine robin to go to market and pick out all the best things. He just knew so much about it all and was such a good business robin that he was a very fine provider.

“And, too, he knew that by helping Mrs. Robin he was sharing in everything, and he shared in doing what was to be done, it was not only fair to Mrs. Robin who would get all tired out alone, but it was also much more fun to help one’s mate.

“So the little robins grew up happily and safely in their nest by the little balcony.”

JUNE 2: The Robins Come to the Rescue

“I am going to tell you,” said daddy, “about the mother humming-bird whose little ones were about to be attacked by a snake when they were rescued by some brave robins.

“The snake had come over from the vacant field and had crawled up the honeysuckle vine as the mother humming-bird had gone off for some food. Some robins hovering near had seen the snake. They had cried out in terror and had flown over to the nest.

“The mother humming-bird heard the cries and hurried back, but the robins had frightened off the snake. The snake was not a very large one, and really he had been frightened by all the noise the robins had made, and when he saw so many birds flying toward him he got away very quickly.

“The mother humming-bird got back just as the snake was leaving the nest.

“She couldn’t thank the robins enough for flying to the rescue and saving her beloved little ones, but the robins didn’t want any thanks. They were thankful, too, that the dear little birds had been saved, for birds are very loyal to one another and will risk any danger to save each other.”

JUNE 3: The Persian Lilacs

“You know,” said one of the flowering almonds, “I think a special vote of thanks should be given to the Persian lilacs. Every year they come out, and after they go their lovely bushes are still so pretty with their green leaves.

“But best of all is the visit they pay us every single spring. They are so small and dainty a lilac, their color is such a soft shade of lavender, they are so beautiful and so flowery and so soft and sweet, and they are so very, very fragrant that we should tell them how much we love them and how glad we are each year to see them.

“It is only right to tell nice creatures and things that we like them. It would be quite unfair any other way at all, and so we should tell the Persian lilacs that we love them and that we welcome them and that we are looking forward to seeing them next year.

“We know how the people love them; we know that for years they have looked forward to seeing the Persian lilacs in the spring and enjoying them right through the spring, too. We know how, after the other lilacs have come out, the Persian lilacs bloom and then they last longer than the others, because they have come later.”

“Ah,” the Persian lilacs said, “it is good of you all to be so kind to us. Our bushes are all very grateful. But you know we couldn’t help but come out each spring. Beneath our bushes are beds of lilies of the valley, the sweet, fragrant lilies of the valley, that nestle in among their green leaves, and they always talk softly to us and send us their sweet greetings.

“Then the people are so fond of us; they love their Persian lilacs so, and all the flowers are so kind to us and help us add to the fragrance of the spring garden. There is no jealousy, and every one is trying to add his sweetness to the whole. We will always come out, never fear!” they ended.

JUNE 4: How a Wish Saved the Raccoons

“One day Mother Raccoon was just about to start telling one of her stories,” said daddy, “when Daddy Raccoon saw all the children around her.

“‘Now this afternoon,’ said Daddy Raccoon, ‘I want to take all those silly little ’Coons and show them how they can become brave big ’Coons such as I am.’ And he thrust his tail this way and that with an air which said, ‘I’m certainly one of the finest, bravest Animals any one could hope to be like.’

“All the little ’Coons looked very mournful when they heard that they were to be taken off to learn how to hunt in the swamp near-by. They were always very much frightened when they went near the swamp, for they had often heard the sound of a big gun, or had seen a dangerous Man with a gun over his shoulder getting in behind the bushes.

“They began to wail and yell, but Daddy Raccoon was firm and as he was the head of the house—or rather the big tree without any leaves—Mother Raccoon had to let them all go.

“But as they were following Daddy Raccoon, she called out to them, ‘If anything happens to you wish very hard that you will be all right and the Fairy Queen may possibly be near-by and will grant you the wish.’

“Daddy Raccoon sniffed with scorn at such a remark, but he said that Mother Raccoon was such a sweet old dear she even thought well of the Rabbit family—and so she was apt to think so much of the Fairies in the same way.

“And off they all started. Some of the little ’Coons were rather proud at going off to hunt in the swamp and really pretended they were tired of Fairy Stories and were glad that Daddy Raccoon had thought it was time for them to grow up.

“Soon they reached the swamp and in they went to hunt for food to last them many days, as Daddy Raccoon had said.

“They did just as they were told and were beginning to be very good hunters and were learning just how to pick out the best parts of the swamp—when suddenly—an awful bang was heard near-by.

“‘Oh, dear; oh, dear,’ shouted the little ’Coons.

“‘Do be quiet, or they’ll know where we are,’ said Daddy Raccoon.

“The second bang sounded very much nearer and they all trembled, when one little ’Coon said, ‘Oh, if any little Fairy is hovering near—please tell the horrid man with the gun to go away.’ And, would you believe it, that man was heard to say:

“‘Well, I guess they’re all away for the day and I won’t try to catch Raccoons until to-morrow.’ Then Daddy Raccoon took all the little ones back to the old tree where Mother Raccoon was sitting curled up, shaking with fear while waiting.

“‘Tell them all the stories you want to,’ said Daddy Raccoon, ‘for one of your Fairy friends saved all our lives and whispered to the man with the gun to go home!’”

JUNE 5: The New Mole Home

“Mr. Mole was going to get married,” said daddy, “and he wanted to build a fine, fine home for the new Mrs. Mole. So he went forth into the nicest meadow he could find, and there, just at the end of it, near an old fence, Mr. Mole started to burrow into the ground.

“You know the Moles live underground almost all of the time, and there make their homes. Just near the fence Mr. Mole began to dig and dig. First of all he made a long, long tunnel, a funny underground passage which he called the Drive-Way of his Home!

“Of course the callers of Mr. and Mrs. Mole could hardly drive along this tunnel, but they could run and scamper along, and they liked to call it by a big name like Drive-Way.

“And after the long, long tunnel Mr. Mole started in to make a fine house out of the earth. He made lovely rooms, one for Mrs. Mole, one for himself, one for the little Mole who was to do the cooking and housekeeping and several guest rooms. For, as you can imagine, Mr. Mole was very fond of company. In addition to all this Mr. Mole built a very fine picture gallery—made in tiers of earth and mud—long rows and rows of it. On these he put pictures of his family which he made out of earth, too. Of course, Mr. Mole made every member of his family look just alike, but that didn’t make any difference. The Moles are not very fussy if their pictures aren’t very well taken, for they can’t bother to look at pictures much of the time.

“You see their eyes are very small and they like to look at things more worth while—such as food and corn starting to grow in the ground and all the things the farmers plant. They love farms, you know, where wonderful vegetables are planted deep down in the earth. They are very apt to burrow along and make paths so they can walk to a farmland and have a feast.

“But I must tell you more about Mr. Mole’s new home. The very last thing he did was to build a beautiful throne in the picture-gallery for Mrs. Mole.

“At last it was time for her to come to her new home and Mr. Mole had invited their friends and cousins, the Mole-Crickets, to come, too. These cousins have very strangely shaped front legs with which they burrow homes just like the regular Moles, and so they are considered relations.

“‘Here we all are,’ said Mrs. Mole, and she blinked her very small eyes, while all the other Moles blinked their tiny eyes, too, and looked about them. Through the Drive-Way they ran until they came to the house with all the beautiful rooms.

“The room Mr. Mole took them to last was the picture-gallery, where Mrs. Mole sat on the throne in honor of her wedding day, and the little Mole, who cooked, brought out some of the delicious stewed vegetables she had made for the wedding feast.

“You should have heard the Moles as they looked at the pictures. They thought every picture was one of their own relatives.

“One Mole would say:

“‘Why, there’s Mama,’ and another would say:

“‘Why, no, that’s not your Mama, that’s my Papa.’ However, they didn’t get in the least angry about the pictures—in fact, they thought it very clever of Mr. Mole to make pictures which looked like all their relations at the same time.

“‘But you haven’t noticed my wedding dress,’ said Mrs. Mole. ‘I think my new Home is S-C-R-U-M-P-T-I-O-U-S, which means beautiful in case any of you little Moles don’t understand the word I’ve said in honor of the day. And now that you’ve all admired my home, please admire my dress.’

“For the first time the Moles noticed that Mrs. Mole had attached to her tiny ears little earrings made of mud with a red berry in each, and she wore a necklace to match. Her dress was of dull oak leaves which Mrs. Mole had saved for a whole year to wear on her wedding day.

“‘You’re a handsome Mole,’ said Mr. Mole, ‘and I’m so proud you’re to share this home I’ve made,’ and all the other Moles grinned and ate more and more of the vegetable wedding feast to show what a good time they were having.”

JUNE 6: The Green Canoe

“I think I will tell you about a very lucky little girl who once received a canoe from her big brother,” said daddy.

“This little girl loved the water. She had always lived near a lake, and she could swim and row.

“Now, this little girl had a great big brother who worked in an office in the big city. He had only a short holiday every year—just two weeks—but during those two weeks he would come home and teach her new strokes in swimming and new ways of diving, for he was very anxious that no one should be able to excel his sister as a swimmer.

“And secretly he longed to give his sister a canoe so she could go on the water just as much as she wanted to, and, as she was such a good swimmer, he felt it would be perfectly safe for her to own one.

“But, of course, a canoe is quite expensive, and the heads of offices in the big city do not consider that the big brothers may want to buy their little sisters canoes with the money they earn. Perhaps they think it is very silly to even dream of such things as canoes. But slowly during the winter the big brother had saved just as much money as a canoe would cost, and in June he wrote his sister a little note.

“In the note he said that he had a ‘little present’ for her which he had had put in the cellar and that she would find it there if she went and looked.

“Now, the little girl could not for a moment imagine what kind of a present would be put in the cellar. But she hurried down to see.

“And there—right before her eyes—was a lovely big green canoe—just the very nicest shade of green—and there beside it were the two paddles. Well, she could hardly speak. She had never dreamed that she would own a canoe, or, anyway, not for years and years and years.

“On the canoe was printed ‘Indian Girl,’ but she at once named it Papoose, which means, you know, a little Indian baby.

“You see, her big brother had arranged that the canoe should be taken down into the cellar when the little girl was asleep, so the surprise would be perfect. And it certainly was!

“In another week the big brother came up from the city, and they spent all their time in the green canoe on the lake.”

JUNE 7: The Bunnie and the Fox

“In the woods,” said daddy, “there lived a mother Rabbit and all her little children. They had a beautiful home—as nice as could be, in one of the finest brier patches ever known. Mother Rabbit was really extremely proud of her home and used to give many fine receptions there for the animals. Especially wonderful were her carrot receptions. The thing that worried Mother Rabbit most of all was that little Bunnie Bonnie, her youngest son, was very, very curious. Of course, Rabbits are always inclined to be curious, but Bunnie Bonnie was even more so than most of his family. And he was sociable. Entirely too sociable his mother thought.

“He liked to go to every party that was given in the woods—even if the parties were not given by his friends.

“Now, one day a black fox moved to the woods to live. None of the animals were pleased to hear that he’d come to stay, for that meant they would have to think of getting out of his way, and doing as he said. Many of the animals left food at the entrance to his home so he wouldn’t eat them up instead!

“Mr. Black Fox looked all about the neighborhood and he noticed Bunnie Bonnie scampering around more than any of the others. So one day he spoke to him and this is what he said:

“‘I’m glad to see you’re a brave Rabbit, and that you’re not afraid of me. Some of these other silly Rabbits tremble when they see me and leave me good things to eat—but I know why they do that. They want me to get all through my meals at home, and not go looking near their homes for extra delicacies—such as their small children.

“‘But it’s so absurd. They’re abusing me. Just because I’m black it doesn’t mean that I’m cruel and bad. In fact, I’m very kind and very good.’

“Of course, Bunnie Bonnie should have known that if Mr. Black Fox was so good he wouldn’t have found it necessary to talk about it. But Bunnie Bonnie never thought of that—and he forgot—completely forgot—that the Fox family is known to be very sly.

“‘And,’ continued Mr. Black Fox, ‘I’d be greatly honored if you’d come to supper with me this evening.’

“‘I’d be pleased to,’ said Bunnie Bonnie.

“Now, Bunnie Bonnie’s mother was giving one of her receptions that afternoon so she told the children to play in the little garden she had back of her home in the brier patch. And Bunnie Bonnie left his little sisters and brothers to have supper with Mr. Black Fox.

“Mr. Black Fox was sitting outside his front door waiting for Bunnie Bonnie. He was chuckling to himself, and his eyes looked very wicked and cruel. But when he saw Bunnie Bonnie running up his path-way, he began to smile and called out in the pleasantest tone he could use:

“‘Hello, Bunnie Bonnie.’

“‘Hello, Mr. Black Fox. Here I am, and, oh, I’m so hungry, too. I didn’t stop to get any of my Mother’s carrots as they were being fixed for her party, but came right along!’

“‘I’m going to have something better than carrots for my supper.’

“‘What?’ said Bunnie Bonnie in a cheery tone, for little did he suspect the old Fox.

“‘I’m going to have you, you little stupid,’ roared Mr. Black Fox, but Bunnie gave one bound and ran for the brier patch. He just reached there ahead of Mr. Black Fox, and never again did he leave his family for new friends.”

JUNE 8: The Homebody Bee

“Ah,” said Queen Bee, “I do not work, but I lay the eggs, and so I am called the Queen Bee, for all the little eggs are my subjects and all around me do everything they can to help me and to wait on me.

“When I tell you how many eggs a day I lay during the time when I feel in the mood for laying, you will be surprised. The number amounts to from two to three thousand eggs.

“You see, buzz buzz, I don’t like to do anything that is small. I don’t care about doing little bits of work. I like to do a lot. That is why I’m a queen; I am an important creature, and not just like all the rest!

“And I am waited on by my helpers who digest the food, the pollen which I eat.

“I am fed royal jelly, a most deliciously sweet food made only and served only to a Queen Bee who has been brought up in the Queen’s royal chambers, or in the Queen Bee cell, as it is usually known.

“My workers have better eyesight than I have, and so they go in search of the honey. During the summer I go from one cell to another laying my eggs.

“But I never leave the hive, though I may live to be several years old. Sometimes it is true I go off upon a flight with my mate or with a swarm of bees, but Queen Bee is a homebody.”

JUNE 9: Ladybug’s Lecture

“Dear little Ladybugs, gather around me,” said Ladybug, “for I am going to give a lecture.

“It will be a free lecture, and pray, Ladybugs, do not think that on that account it will be poor. Too many folks have the idea that nothing is good that is free.

“They don’t bother to find out how many nice things are free, and they don’t stop to think about them. Take birds and their concerts—quite free.

“And lovely wild flowers—quite free. And the woods and lakes and rivers and ponds—practically all of them free. And many free concerts and oh, so many things that if I go on talking about them I will never have time for my lecture.

“So I shall begin my lecture if all the Ladybugs are ready, and if the Ladybug who has charge of this hall (for I must call this place where I am lecturing a hall) will kindly bring me an acorn filled with water I shall be much obliged. Lecturers should always have such things by them, and oh yes, a light and a pointer to point to my maps and my pictures. But on second thought they won’t be necessary for I have no maps and no pictures. Well, then, are we all ready?”

A little Ladybug came hurrying up with the acorn filled with water and said in a low tone, “If you want any more I’ll bring it in to you.”

“Thanks,” said the Ladybug, who was about to lecture.

“Now, friends,” she began, “Mrs. President, Lady Chairman, I greet you.”

There was no Mrs. President and no Lady Chairman, but that didn’t make any difference.

“I have something very fine to tell you. Something very fine upon a subject which strikes close to the heart of all of us.”

Ladybug, the lecturer, placed one of her legs in the direction of her heart and looked very fine indeed doing so.

In a moment or two she went on: “I have heard, and it is quite true, that we have all been paid a very great compliment. We have been paid one of the greatest of compliments.

“It has been both expensive and a bit difficult to get to Europe of late—especially has it been too expensive, and I don’t believe any of the Ladybugs have enough money in the Ladybugs’ bank to use that to go to Europe.

“It’s a fine bank and it is nice to go to a bank where ladies are especially looked after and all of that.

“But we haven’t enough money in the bank. Dear me no, not nearly enough.

“However, those of our family who were chosen to go weren’t asked how much money they had at all. They weren’t even asked if they had any money.

“They weren’t even asked if they would pay for their laundry and their own food.

“They were just invited to go and were told the work they would do would be enough thanks for the opportunity they were having to travel.

“Yes,” said Ladybug, “many, many, many Ladybugs have been shipped to France to destroy bad insects.

“Of course, I’m not sure whether the Ladybugs can talk French or not, but they can work anyway and make the whole Ladybug world proud of them.

“But I think it would be interesting if we all studied a little French so that we would be able to say how-do-you-do and good-by and pleased-to-meet-you in French, in case we’re called upon next. And my lecture is not only free. It is quite, quite true.”

“Ah,” said all the Ladybugs when they had finished cheering the speaker, “we will all study a little French and be ready. Ah, what an honor for the Ladybugs of this land!”

“Gorgeous,” said Ladybug, the lecturer.

JUNE 10: The Waves’ Wishes

“We are mad, Mother Ocean,” said some of the waves. “We’ve never been given a fair chance. We’ve always been here—your children; we’ve had to do just as you said. We’ve been allowed to play when you’ve been perfectly willing we should play and when you’ve been willing to ask the Wind to play with us. But we’ve had to do as you and the Wind said.

“And we’ve had to sleep when you’ve told us to. It’s not fair. Just because we’re only some of the drops of water which belong to you we haven’t any say of our own.”

“What is it you would like to do?” asked Mother Ocean in her deep, great voice.

“We’d like to see more of the world,” they said.

“We’d like to go traveling. We’d like to see what the cities and forests are like; we’d like to see some other creatures beside fishes and people swimming in us. We’re tired of an ocean life.

“We want to live on the land. We want to do great things—what do we do here that ever amounts to anything?”

“So you’d like to see the world?” asked Mother Ocean. “Well, Waves, go forth; I won’t stop you. And may you come back to me with stories of adventures!”

JUNE 11: The Waves’ Adventures

When the waves were told they could leave Mother Ocean they weren’t so happy as they had expected to be.

They had really expected Mother Ocean to forbid them to go—then they could continue grumbling, which they were quite enjoying. Now they felt they must start at once to show that they were really anxious to see the world. They didn’t want to let Mother Ocean see that they would rather stay where they were quite comfortable and where they could grumble! Mother Ocean was sighing a little.

“I’m sorry to see you go,” she said. “It’s the first time any of my children or grandchildren have wanted to leave me.”

The Waves didn’t look at Mother Ocean. Instead, they pulled their beautiful white caps down over their heads and shed a salt water tear or two. Then they picked up their shell suit-cases from Mother Ocean’s ground floor, packed in their sea-weed nighties and their best sea-green suits and sea-blue party dresses and were off.

They ran over the beach and rudely went right over the feet of some people who were sitting down on the beach reading books. Then they scrambled on, stumbled and scrambled on a little farther.

“Oh dear,” said one of the waves; “oh dear, the sun makes me feel so dizzy.”

“And I feel so hot and dry,” said another. “Oh dear, oh dear! I must weep.” But not even any salt tears would come to the wave’s dry eyes.

“Are you ready to have adventures?” asked a little creature who suddenly came up to the waves. He looked like a little brownie and he seemed quite amused at meeting the waves. “I’ve heard you wanted to see the world and to do great things,” he continued. They wanted to tell him he would look far better in a cool green suit than in his warm-looking brown one, but suddenly they realized that they could only speak the language of the ocean and that he couldn’t understand them, though they could understand him, for they had so often heard people speak.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” he grinned, “but I suppose you mean to say ‘Yes,’ as I’ve been told you’ve come to see the world.

“Well, first we shall take a trip through some forests.”

They tried to follow the brownie, and found it was very hard work. He led them along so fast, and they couldn’t make him understand that they’d like a drink of water and a cooling bath.

Pretty soon they found themselves in some very dark forests. All around them were strange birds calling to each other and singing songs about juicy worms. The waves trembled, for they thought the birds might sing soon about juicy waves, and then might swallow them down!

And they saw strange animals, rabbits and woodchucks and squirrels, all quite small but very terrifying to the waves.

They saw some little red lizards and small snakes which wriggled along and which didn’t seem in the least friendly like fishes.

After they had passed through the forests and had been frightened almost out of their wits the brownie hurried them along to the edge of a city and then right into the city.

JUNE 12: The Waves’ Story

The Waves begged the brownie to take them back to the ocean for they said they had had adventures enough. And the night they got back Mother Ocean gave a great ball. The wind came and danced and sang, the waves all danced, the sea-shells laughed and sang and through it all Mother Ocean kept smiling and singing to herself:

“Away from home.
They wanted to roam,
Away from the ocean deep.
And I did not say ‘No,’
But I let them go,
Though many salt tears did I weep.
But now they are home,
They no longer will roam,
Away from the ocean deep.
And they will say ‘No,’
If I suggest that they go,
So now I can sing and not weep.”

And ever since that day none of the Waves have ever wanted to leave their Mother Ocean to adventure over the earth.

JUNE 13: A Poor Weed

“Somehow,” said the yarrow weed, “I have been left here and only a little of the hay is left. It has all been cut down to feed to the animals. The animals don’t like to eat me. They say I am so bitter. Ah, poor me, I cannot help it if I am bitter.”

“Do not be so sad,” said Old Hay. “It isn’t so wonderful to be eaten. Aren’t you happier above the earth, having the sun look down upon you and the wind rustle by you, than to be inside a cow or a horse or a sheep?

“The farmer does not like you because you take up the room which might be used by some grass which would be good for his animals.”

“Yes, I’m like an unwelcome visitor, a guest who isn’t welcome.”

“My dear Yarrow,” said Old Hay, “you mustn’t mind it if some creatures don’t like you. There will always be some creatures who don’t like something or some one. It is a waste of time worrying about it.”

“I won’t worry about it any more,” said the yarrow weed, “but I do wish that I didn’t look so ragged and shabby all the time. I am such an ugly gray color. My leaves look old as though I were very poor.”

“Oh dear,” sighed Old Hay, “I no sooner get rid of one worry for you than you think up another. It’s all right to wear old things if you want to. I have heard of people who wear their last year’s clothes so they can do fine things with their money.”

“But I haven’t money,” said the yarrow weed.

“Dear me,” said Old Hay, “please cheer up. Of course you haven’t money. You’re a weed, and as you say, you are a poor and rather unpopular weed.

“But you mustn’t be discouraged, for I’ve heard you were often used as a charm. You are supposed to bring good luck and a long, happy and prosperous life. So some people save a bit of you to keep for luck.”

“Ah, yes,” said the yarrow weed, “even though I am a poor weed I have something to make me very proud and glad.”

JUNE 14: The Bicycle’s Joy

“I remember a story of my grandfather,” said the bicycle. “He was given as a surprise to a little girl by her brother. She didn’t know what she was going to have, only her brother told her she was going to have a great and enormous surprise. I think my grandfather has often told the story.

“The brother made up puzzles to help the sister guess what her surprise was going to be but she simply couldn’t guess anything so wonderful as a bicycle.

“The brother had saved up for ages and ages to give it to her—all paid for out of money he had earned himself.

“Well, when my grandfather was given to her, he said that the little girl just said, ‘Oh, brother,’ and put her arms around her brother’s neck and the tears came to her eyes for very joy of the great, great surprise.

“I was afraid such days had gone. But at last I was sold and I find there are lots of bicycles around and that children still do enjoy them.”

“Oh yes, indeed they do,” said the second bicycle.

“Oh,” said the first bicycle, “I am so joyous. My tires are full of joy and air. My bell rings merrily. Oh, I’m a happy, happy bicycle.

“Now I don’t care if children do love airships and automobiles and all sorts of modern toys and if they like kites because they fly so high in the air and are so lovely, for they still have room in their hearts for the loyal old bicycle friend.

“It’s a great joy to be a bicycle after all.”

JUNE 15: The Best Apple Tree of All

“Of all the trees in the orchard,” began daddy, “every spring this old apple tree I am going to tell you about had the most beautiful of blossoms. And when midsummer came the apples that came out on that tree had, somehow, a better taste than the apples from any other tree. And one day I found out the reason.

“I thought the hammock, which hung under the apple tree, looked very comfortable, and so I made myself most cozy and happy. It was not long before I dozed off into a nice little nap, and then I heard what the apple tree was saying to the little unripe apples on the boughs.

“‘You must grow to be fine and ripe, and you must keep all the little apple-seeds good and warm so they can be just as brown as brown can be. That will mean that little boys and little girls can eat all they want, for so long as the seeds are brown they can never do any harm. And, you apples, you must be very sure that you turn around and have the sun warm you and make you bright and red.’

“As the old apple tree was talking, I noticed that the apples just grew a little bit bigger, and redder and fatter, and looked as they were—oh, so juicy and wonderful inside. I was certain, too, that the little seeds were growing browner every minute.

“‘You see,’ he continued, ‘it’s such an honor for us. You know that on the day we’re ripe the fairy queen brings all the little fairies to admire us, and they sit on the boughs and wave about with us. And more than that—you know the apple that is ripe first goes to the fairy queen and then some more go to the little fairies.’

“The fairies are too kind to take away the apples that real people like to eat—and so the old apple tree has arranged to have a great many more that we can’t see—they’re called the apples of fairyland.

“And the tree still went on talking:

“‘I, too, am working hard. I am practising my best bow to make to the fairy queen when she arrives the first day all the apples are ripe. So she is to come very, very early in the morning while every one else is sleeping. And when the children get up and find the apples are ripe so quickly, won’t they be delighted!

“‘Now, get around so Mr. Sun will help you along. He’s the greatest help in the world to us—such a dear old soul.’

“Of course that flattered Mr. Sun so he helped still more, and just as I could feel him shining down with all his might—I woke up.

“I moved away from the apple tree then, for it was no longer shady; the sun had come around and told me to get up! But as I walked away and saw the apple tree waving around I knew it was practising for its bow and making the little apples hurry up and ripen.”

JUNE 16: An Elephant’s Wanderings

“There was once an elephant who got tired of the circus and wandered off one night when nobody was noticing,” commenced daddy.

“You see the circus was getting ready to go on to another village to give a performance and it was late at night. They never thought of an elephant getting away, but they hadn’t heard Jumbo telling the elephants of late how exceedingly tired he was of circus life and circus food and circus parades. He was not only tired of it all but he said he wanted to be a gentleman.

“The other elephants had asked him what a gentleman was, and this is what he told them:

“‘I heard two little boys talking of what they were going to be when they grew up,’ said Jumbo, ‘and one of them said he was going to be an engineer and build bridges. The other little boy had said he was going to be a gentleman and do nothing. The first boy thought he was quite wrong and very silly, but then and there I decided that it would be beautiful to do nothing.’

“The other elephants had asked Jumbo how an elephant could be a gentleman, any more than a gentleman could be an elephant, but Jumbo was determined to lead a lazy life. And you see neither Jumbo nor the little boy knew what being a gentleman really meant.

“So Jumbo escaped and the next morning Jumbo was in a barnyard, and as you will never be able to guess the friends he had chosen I’ll have to tell you. He was playing with a big brown dog, a mother hen and a whole lot of little chickens.

“Of course, he had to be very careful not to move so as to step on his new friends, for he knew it would be most impolite and not at all gentlemanly to step on a friend and crush him! But as he had wanted to stay quiet and do nothing he was very happy.

“The hen sat proudly on one of his ears, while the little chickens all sat on his head, and ran races up and down his marvelous trunk. The dog got up on his back and jumped off and on again and again. Meantime the elephant was sitting down in the barnyard looking very enormous and very much out of place.

“Soon the little girl, whose name was Betty, and who lived in the house beyond the barnyard came running out to give her pets their breakfast.

“At first Betty was somewhat frightened at seeing the big elephant, but then she felt that if the little chickens were so friendly with him, he must certainly be friendly.

“The elephant stayed some time with the animals of the barnyard and with Betty. But one morning bright and early she found Jumbo with an old ball and bat in his great trunk. He was practising baseball so he would not be put off the team when he got back to the circus for he had been planning for some time to return to his first friends.

“Well, this morning he had decided to leave. For late the night before he had heard the circus he belonged to arriving in the village where Betty lived.

“‘I’ve had a powerful good time,’ said Jumbo to Betty, ‘but I must be off. I haven’t done a thing for weeks and if this is what it means to be a gentleman I’d rather be an elephant—which, of course, is very easy for me to be—as I am one, don’t you see?’

“Now Betty didn’t understand what the elephant was really saying, but that afternoon when she went to the circus there she saw Jumbo in the baseball game, and doing all the tricks better than any other elephant. He was so delighted at having something to do again that though Betty missed him, still she was glad he was back where he was happiest.”

JUNE 17: The Story the Oak Tree Told

A soft breeze of early summer had been blowing all day. The leaves were looking so fresh and green and having a beautiful time in the warm sunshine.

“Well,” began daddy, “I must tell you the story the oak told to the other trees today.

“The other trees would sometimes sigh, ‘How nice!’ or something like that, but for the most part they let the oak tree do all the talking.

“It was a very young tree, but it looked as if some day it would be a fine big oak with spreading branches and great strong roots which nothing could shake.

“‘I was one day picked up as a little acorn by a small boy,’ said the tree.

“‘He carried me around in his pocket for days and days. I spent all my time sleeping, for his pocket was very dark and I could not stay awake in it.

“‘One day he happened to notice me especially. He wondered why he had been carrying me around for so long, for he himself couldn’t think of any reason why he should want me.

“‘And then he thought he would plant me. So he put me in the ground and covered me over carefully. He watched to see when I would come up. When first he saw me sprouting above the ground I thought he would go mad with delight, for he had really been very much worried about me. After having planted me he was very anxious that I should grow up right away. So he was a very happy little boy when he saw that I was really going to become a tree.

“‘Now he comes every day to look at me and has done so ever since I was born.

“‘You see it will make me a fine tree to have the pride of that little boy centered in me.

“‘And what is more, it will make him, I think, grow up to be a fine man, brave and strong like his tree, for that is what he calls me.

“‘So I feel that we will both help one another, and perhaps some day when he is an old man he will lead some little boy by the hand and will tell him of how he planted me and how he tried to grow up to be strong like his tree, and that will help the little boy, too.

“‘We trees can do a lot of good if we want to. Just think how nice it will sound to be called a fine old oak, and when we feel proud of ourselves we can think it is even better that we have helped little boys to be stronger too.’”

JUNE 18: The Weeds and the Flowers

“The Elves,” commenced daddy, “were playing in a garden one morning just at the break of day when all the flowers were opening their sleepy heads, and the ones which had not been sleeping were looking about them more brightly than ever.

“‘Good morning, Flowers,’ said the Elves. The flowers nodded their heads and smiled and waved about in the warm breeze. But the Elves heard some very strange sounds—not quite like the talk of the flowers—for to the Elves and Fairies, you know, there is a Flower language, and a Flower’s way of talking.

“‘What could these other sounds mean?’ they asked each other.

“‘We’ll tell you,’ said these voices. ‘We’re the Weeds. And some of us are beautiful, but all of us are strong. Yes, we’re so strong that no matter how they try to dig us up and throw us away we’re up again in no time. We’re little fighters—yes, we are. We have our Army headquarters. Indeed we do! And our Generals are very fine. They’re the great, tall Weeds you often see, and my, but it’s hard to get them out of the earth. If they are beaten more Generals take their places, for the motto of the Weeds is, “We’ll always be strong—there will always be Weeds.”

“And so they chatted on. The Elves were very much interested, but still they couldn’t quite see, when the Weeds were doing so much talking and bragging, how the flowers could smile so happily.

“So they whispered to the Flowers very gently:

“‘Tell us, Flowers, why are you so happy?’

“Then in lovely, soft rustling voices the Flowers said:

“‘We are going to have a Book written about us to-day. Yes, a real Book, and our pictures are going to be painted. We’re very proud and happy. We have a Mistress who comes out every morning and most of the day she is with us. She bends over us and digs up the earth around us so it is nice and soft and comfortable. And every evening after Mr. Sun has gone to bed she gives us cool drinks of water.