Chapter VIII: Part 8

“‘It was only yesterday she told us that some Noble Grownup was going to write a Book about us and call it “The Ideal Garden.” We think that ideal means something like perfect—anyway it’s something extremely nice. And she has been making us ready for the Book. Oh, we’re very proud indeed.’ And then the queer sounds came again, and the Weeds spoke up:

“‘Yes, and we’re going to have a Chapter about us. We don’t quite understand yet what a Chapter is—but it’s a great deal—we’re sure of that. The Grownup told our Mistress that she was going to say something about pretty Weeds in a garden.’

“‘Well, we like you all—Flowers and Weeds,’ said the Elves.”

JUNE 19: The Insulted Flowers

“I do feel insulted,” said Mr. Orchid.

“It’s too absurd,” said Miss Lily of the Valley. For a lady was wearing a bunch of orchids and lilies of the valley and one of the orchids and one of the lilies of the valley were talking to each other. They felt very much hurt that they had been crushed and forced into such a great big bouquet to be worn, when a smaller one would have been so much prettier and nicer.

“Yes, we are being insulted,” said Mr. Orchid. “She doesn’t care one scrap for flowers. She just wants to look rich and so she bought us—and plenty of us, and that is what we call insulting.”

“It most certainly is,” said Miss Lily of the Valley. “No one who cared for flowers would wear as many as she is crushing together; no, indeed.”

JUNE 20: The Colored Bags

“Since Melly had been a little girl her Auntie had been very fond of her,” said daddy.

“One day Melly’s aunt was looking over a great box she had with pieces in it when Melly saw all the odd pieces of silk. ‘I wonder,’ said Melly’s Auntie, ‘if you would like to have me make you little bags, so you can carry your purse and your handkerchief in one when you go shopping, and your handkerchief and other odds and ends you carry around at other times in other bags? I could make you so many bags of so many different colors. Some, you see, could be yellow, some blue, some pink, some gray, some orange, some purple, some tan, some rose, some green, some white.’

“So that was the way Melly’s bags came about, and her Auntie on her birthday and Christmas always gave her a few new bags made from the old silk.

“How gay and pretty they were and how Melly loved them.

“Now one evening Melly had gone to sleep and the bags were talking.

“‘Ah,’ said the bag of pale blue, ‘I’m but a baby. I am only a few years old.’

“‘And I’m very old,’ said a little plaid bag. ‘I belonged to her grandmother!’

“‘Well,’ said a purple bag, ‘it does seem funny to see the world again. It’s nice to be young once more. Why, I was getting so used to the darkness of the piece box that I blinked, actually blinked—at least as much as a bag can blink—when I first got out again.’

“‘And isn’t it fun,’ said the green bag, ‘to see so many things? I went on a picnic yesterday, and a piece of bacon got into me in some way or other, a nice little crumby piece. Well, I did feel funny. I felt like a person having breakfast. I must say I didn’t eat it up—I’m not fond of eating—mostly because I’m without a mouth and a stomach, but it is fun to go to so many different places and to see what is going on in different places.’

“‘I’m so glad I was made,’ said the rose bag. ‘I’m going to a dancing party this afternoon. They’ll have ice-cream there and I’ll hear all the children play and laugh and I’ll hear them say, “Oh, Melly, which bag have you got with you to-day?” And then I will be shown.’

“‘We’re the lucky little pieces of silk who are seeing the world for a second time,’ ended the yellow bag.”

JUNE 21: A Spider’s Curiosity

“They may not think the spider is a curious creature, though again they may think so,” said Mr. Spider, “for I am sure I cannot keep track of what they think.

“But last summer I was attracted to a house which looked rather cool and comfortable and as though the people who lived in it had gone away and left the blinds down.

“Now when I say I was attracted to the house I mean that the house looked attractive to me and so I went there. I went in first through a crack under the door. I looked about me when I got inside and I thought to myself: ‘Dear me, I have the whole place to myself.’ But I found that a number of spider friends and cousins had come to the house too.

“‘Well,’ they said, upon seeing me, ‘have you come to this hotel to board? It’s really quite good. Meals are fine. We’ve found a number of delicious little creatures to nibble at.’

“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve come to this hotel to board, but I won’t pay my board.’

“‘Oh, won’t you?’ said they.

“‘I will not,’ I answered. ‘I do not pay board. It’s a foolish thing to do, a waste of time, and besides I haven’t the money. I wouldn’t pay board for anything, for it spoils people.’

“Yes, they think they can do anything when they charge board. They can be rude and only give you so much of this and so much of that, and they have to watch over you to see that you don’t eat more than you are allowed. At least that is my idea of boarding, though I suppose for those who have plenty of money it is all right.

“But I have no money, none at all.”

“Neither have I,” said the spider who was listening.

“Therefore I cannot board,” said Mr. Spider.

“Well, as I was saying, my relatives and friends talked to me and when I said that I wouldn’t pay my board they said: ‘Oh, that is quite all right, Mr. Spider. None of us do. Besides, we feel sure the people who have gone away will be glad if they hear that some of the Spider family are watching over their house in their absence.’

“So I settled down, but after a time I began to feel as though I would like to be busy. Every one around me was working.

“And one day one of the other spiders said to me: ‘Mr. Spider, did you bring your work?’

“‘Yes indeed,’ I answered, ‘I have it here with me.’

“Then, of course, I thought I would choose a good spinning table or spinning chair, or some place where I would be comfortable and cozy a-spinning.

“Just as I was thinking about it I happened to take a look at a telephone upon a table.

“‘There will I go,’ I said to the others.

“‘But,’ they told me, ‘the telephone is a modern thing and spinning is an old, old thing to do.’

“‘Well,’ I answered, ‘I will mix the old and the new, I will work around the modern telephone. I will spin a web so when the people come back they will have to talk through Spiderland in order to talk to their friends.’”

JUNE 22: The Sun Dial

“I follow you so that people can tell the time by me,” said the sun-dial. “And how am I able to tell time for them? All owing to you. I depend upon you to help me tell the time, for you cast your shadow over me, and people know just the hour of the day it is. There is the sun-flower which is named after you,” continued the sun-dial. “It is so called because it is so bright and golden and it is big too!”

“That is so,” said the sun. “I am very fond of the sun-flower.”

“And think of all the flowers, like the marigold and the morning-glories, which open when you arise, and go to sleep, closing their eyes, when you go to bed.

“Then there is the sunfish, so named because he is round and fat and supposed to be slightly like the sun in shape.”

“I had never heard the reason for his name before,” said Mr. Sun. “Thanks for telling me.”

The sun-dial moved a little and so did Mr. Sun, for the time was going on.

“Then there is the sun-gem,” continued the sun-dial. “He is the humming-bird, you know, and he has such glorious bright colors that they have named him after you.”

“I never knew that before,” said Mr. Sun. “How very interesting. Pray go on.”

“There are the sun opals—beautiful stones—and sun perch—like the sunfish family. There are sun plants and sun ferns.”

“Indeed,” beamed the sun.

“And there are sun shades,” continued the sun-dial.

“Oh dear,” said the sun, “people use those to keep me out of their eyes, don’t they?”

“Yes, that is so,” said the sun-dial. “Dear me, I didn’t mean to say anything about sun-shades. And there is sun fever and sun stroke.”

“Oh dear, dear, dear,” said the sun, growing very red and angry. “They are horrible things people get when their heads ache and they feel quite miserable.”

The sun was very red and very mad now, and the sun-dial knew it had said too much. “I am so sorry,” said the sun-dial. “I grew a little careless in what I was saying.”

“Yes, you did,” agreed the sun. “But no matter; I shall sleep and forget about it now.”

And the big red sun went to bed behind the hill and the sun-dial said to itself it would never make such mistakes again!

JUNE 23: Shoes and Stockings

“It seems so funny,” said Mrs. Cow. “Really, the fuss that children make about going around without any shoes or stockings.

“I don’t mean they make a fuss about going without. Gracious, no, they love not to wear shoes and stockings.

“It’s very funny, though, the way they think it is such a treat to go without.

“Now, we never wear shoes and stockings. We think that would be ridiculous.

“We would never say to our mothers, ‘Oh, mother, can’t I please go without any shoes or stockings all afternoon?’

“No young cow or calf would say such a thing. But children are always asking if they can’t go without as a great treat. How funny they really are!”

JUNE 24: Mosquitoes and Snails

“Well, are you here again?” said the Snails to the Mosquitoes.

“We are indeed,” buzzed the Mosquitoes. “But you don’t say that as if you were pleased. In fact, we don’t like your manner at all. We think a little nip and a wee bite might help you. It might make you more polite.”

“Ah, there you are wrong,” said the Snails. “To be sure, our manner was not so very polite. But we don’t feel so polite toward your family. And as for teaching us manners with the aid of a little nip and a wee bite—well, that is absurd, as we have shells and we can go right back into them. We may be slow, but we can get into our shells quickly enough.”

“Yes, cowards,” hissed the Mosquitoes.

“Not at all,” said the Snails. “It’s not cowardly to avoid being bitten. It wouldn’t help any one if we were bitten. There would be no good done because of it. We simply do not wish to be bitten and give you a chance to say:

“‘We bit the Snails to-day. That was part of our pleasure.’ For it is a pleasure to you to bite, and we don’t intend to help along such selfish, mean, cross creatures.”

“Then why are you talking to us?” asked the Mosquitoes.

“Because,” said the Snails, “you have just missed a picnic party that went by here a little time ago. A nice picnic party of children. We won’t tell you where they went—no, indeed. And you’ve lost them now. We only talked to you because we wanted you to miss one horrid adventure. We wouldn’t have wasted our time otherwise. And we talked slowly to give the children more time.” The Snails wiggled and squirmed a little. They were very much pleased with themselves.

But, oh, how mad the mosquitoes were! They buzzed and sang their ugly little songs. They tried to bite the snails, but they had gone inside their shells.

They were so furious that they had wasted all that time. But the snails were happy! They knew that the children were far away by this time, and they had been saved from having the horrid, uninvited mosquitoes go along, too.

As the mosquitoes flew away they said: “Never again will we talk to those slow snails. They make us lose time.”

And the Snails were delighted that their slowness had helped.

JUNE 25: The Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

“The rose-breasted grosbeak,” said daddy, “is a very useful bird, and at the same time an extremely beautiful bird.

“Mr. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak wears black and white, with a handsome vest of rose color and under his wings he has the same decoration. Mrs. Grosbeak is not so handsome. She wears a brown frock, and looks not unlike her cousin, Mrs. Sparrow.

“They have some fine relations, too—there are Mr. and Mrs. Blue Grosbeak, and there again Mr. Grosbeak is very beautiful. He wears a deep blue suit and his shoulders are trimmed with chestnut-colored feathers. Mrs. Grosbeak is of grayish brown and grayish white, having the top side of the first color, and the bottom side of the second color.

“Then there are the Evening Grosbeak family. Mrs. Evening Grosbeak is paler than her husband but their coloring is not so different from each other as in the other members of the Grosbeak family. The Evening Grosbeaks are of brown and yellow with touches of very dark brown and white-tipped wings.

“And we mustn’t forget the Pine Grosbeak family. Mr. Pine Grosbeak is of a wonderful shade of red, while Mrs. Grosbeak is yellow and gray in her coloring.

“The Pine Grosbeaks are fond of the winter; they are not afraid of the cold. In fact, they are not afraid of anything and they trust people and let them come close to them. They have low, warbling voices and whistle in a beautiful, clear fashion.

“The Evening Grosbeaks have very large bills and eat many seeds, berries and insects, as you may imagine. But they can sing and whistle, too.

“The Blue Grosbeak family sing, too, in a nice warbling fashion of their own, which is a little like the song Mr. Indigo Bunting sings, but Mr. Grosbeak’s is a little stronger and louder—a little more of a song. They probably like to sing songs that are somewhat the same, as they are both blue birds and so have the same taste in color and in music.

“But it is of Mr. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak that I want to tell you, for he is not only beautiful, but, as I said, he is very useful.

“And he can sing, too! Oh, how Mr. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak can sing! He chirps in low, deep and lovely tones and he sings from morning to night in the most glorious manner.

“But he does a great deal else beside singing. He helps the farmer and the owner of the orchard.

“‘Yes,’ said a Mr. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak to his mate, many, many years ago, ‘I am not going to be satisfied just to be beautiful and to have a nice voice.’

“‘What is it you want to do?’ asked Mrs. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.

“‘I will have to think about it a little,’ he answered. And then after he had thought a time he said,

“‘I have it.’

“‘Tell me,’ chirped Mrs. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.

“‘We will help the farmer and the owner of the orchard. We will destroy bad bugs and insects which would hurt the crop. We can easily change our diet so that these things will taste delicious to us. And we will be doing some good work, too. It’s horrible to be lazy and beautiful and rich and superior. It’s much more interesting to be busy and see things finished that we’ve done ourselves.’

“Mrs. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak agreed, and thought they would enjoy life a great deal more by being busy.

“‘It would be so tiresome,’ Mrs. Grosbeak told her mate some time after this, ‘if we did nothing all day but sing. Why, we’d have nothing to sing about after a time, no joyous news to tell the world!’

“And so from that day to this, the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak family have been a great help. They eat caterpillars which would destroy trees, many moths, bugs, worms, and insects which would hurt growing vegetables and trees bearing fruits.

“They eat cucumber beetles, too, but mostly they eat potato-bugs. And so they are a great, great help, and are often called ‘Those dear little Grosbeak birds!’”

JUNE 26: The Goldfishes

“I am pretty mad,” said one of the goldfishes in the bowl, whose name was Mr. Tokio Jones.

“I’m mad, too,” said Mr. Pekin Baxter, the other goldfish.

“That little girl said, you remember,” continued Mr. Pekin Baxter, “‘Oh, look at the wings on the fishes.’ Such ignorance! Of course, she meant fins, but it made me pretty mad to think there was a person who knew so little about fishes.”

“And what made me mad was when her playmate said to her: ‘Why, Marion, those aren’t wings, those are fins,’ and Marion said: ‘Well, what is the difference which I say, wings or fins?’

“That certainly made me mad.”

“It did me,” said Mr. Tokio Jones, “but let’s not excite ourselves any more; let’s be like the lazy snails, who are really sensible not to get angry, for it does no good at all.”

JUNE 27: The Pigeons’ Bath

“Now the four pigeons I want to tell you about were a daddy and mother pigeon, and their little pigeon children whose names were Peter Pigeon and Polly Pigeon,” said daddy. “And I saw them to-day.

“‘Polly,’ said her mother, ‘be sure you wet your feathers. Now a good shake! There, that’s the way!’ And then the mother pigeon would give herself a good shaking in the water to explain.

“And Daddy Pigeon was saying to Peter, ‘There, Peter! That’s the way. Don’t be afraid of the water. A bath will do you good. And the day is warm, the sun is shining, and we’ll get good and warm after this. Our feathers will be warm in no time!’

“Now, Peter and Polly Pigeon were being told just how to bathe in the best way by their fond parents. But it was not hard for them to learn. They had lots of fun spattering each other, and they played all sorts of games. And after they were really through bathing and had shaken their feathers they began to get dry in the hot sun.

“Polly and Peter Pigeon were quite sleepy, after their playing, bathing, splashing and spattering, and they began to coo very softly before going to sleep. But as they were just dozing off Mother Pigeon said:

“‘If we’re all good pigeons, the Fairy Queen, who looks after pigeons, too, will come and whisper in the ears of children to give us bread crumbs. She will tell them that in the hot days of summer we like little cooling drinks which they can put in pans and saucers around their yards and on their porches. Yes, the Fairy Queen will tell them all that, if we’re good pigeons.’

“Of course Polly and Peter made up their minds they would be very good indeed so as to receive the rewards about which the Fairy Queen would whisper to the children. And in case she hasn’t already told you I want to let you know that it will make her happy to think of children all over the world, when the warm weather comes, thinking of the little creatures who can’t turn on the faucet and get a good cool drink of water, but who must wait for the rain or kind people.”

JUNE 28: The Man in the Moon’s Party

“It had been the first hot day. Even the sun felt tired. That may sound very strange, to think of the sun feeling tired,” said daddy. “But still can’t you imagine that on the first hot day that comes, when the sun has been shining with all his might and main he gets a little bit tired and is glad when it is time to go to bed? Many strong people may get tired at night.

“As the sun went to bed, the moon began to peep up and laugh. He grinned from ear to ear, for he said to himself:

“‘To-night I really will be appreciated, for the sun has overworked to-day and no one ever gets any thanks for overworking. It is as bad as not working enough.’

“Of course, the moon was the very sort to talk that way. For, can you imagine that jolly old man whom you see grinning at you so often as ever really working very hard?

“Just then the moon began sending out his invitations for a party.

“He sent them in this way: he whispered to the tall pines that he wanted to have a party and to invite all the little fairies. Also he added that they must wear their very best clothes, for when he gave a party he liked to see folks in their party clothes.

“The fairy queen was dressed in glittering gold. She wore a gold crown on her head and carried a gold wand with gold stars glittering from it.

“All the other fairies were dressed in silvery costumes, for the man in the moon is very fond of silver. You will sometimes notice that he puts on a silver robe himself, and he is very friendly with the silver clouds that float in the sky at night.

“They did have the very best time, and they all enjoyed the party so, so much. The man in the moon laughed his head off—at least the fairies were afraid he would—as he said he had never before seen the pine trees behave so like silly little trees, instead of like big, dignified trees they had always prided themselves on being.

“But the pine trees didn’t care, for they were having a beautiful time waving and singing. They sang for lots of the lovely dances the fairies did. As for the fairies, they felt it was a very great honor for them to be given a party by the wonderful old man in the moon, who had such splendid guests as the pine trees!”

JUNE 29: Billy and the Dragon

“Billy was very, very fat, and, oh, so lazy! The reason he was so fat was because he ate everything he wanted. He used to spend every penny he ever got all on himself, and he always bought candy.

“When supper time came he really made himself very sick over jam, for he always persisted in eating loads and loads of jam and would not even spread it on his toast, but would eat it plain out of a spoon.

“One afternoon he went to a party. He was very disagreeable and wouldn’t play any games at all. He simply sat in a corner and waited until supper time came. Then he ate all the ice-cream, all the candy and all the cake that he could get hold of. None of the other children went near him, for they didn’t care about a little boy who only cared about eating all the time.

“That night Billy felt very sick when he went to bed. But he soon fell asleep. In his sleep, though, a great horned dragon appeared and said to him:

“‘Billy, it’s for your sake I’m coming here tonight. We dragons aren’t nearly so dreadful as we’re made out to be. We take a great interest in children, and I am going to take a great interest in you.

“‘Before you made such a little—yes, I must say it—a little piggie-wig of yourself you were a very nice little boy. But now you’re fat and lazy. So every night I shall chase you around in your dreams until you give up eating so much jam and candy and until you once more enjoy playing around with the other little boys and girls.’

“‘Oh, please don’t!’ said Billy, who was terrified.

“‘Yes,’ said the dragon; ‘I’m a good friend of yours, and I shall make you a real boy again. In a few weeks you really won’t know yourself.’

“With that he was gone, but he kept his word, and every night chased Billy around in his dreams until he gave up eating so many sweets and played games and became a real boy again.”

JUNE 30: Cozy Balsam Flowers

“I am sure,” said daddy, “that the scarlet flowers known as the Balsam flowers love the very coziness of a fireplace. For they always thrive better in a room where there is an open fire than they do with Mr. Sun’s rays shining down upon them.

“And perhaps they can read stories in the fireplace. Perhaps they can see fairy-tales being acted in the blue and red and orange flames.

“Anyway, they love the open fires, and so I think we ought to call them the cozy Balsam Flowers!”

JULY 1: A Brother’s Plan

“There was once,” said daddy, “a boy whose name was Worthington, and for short they called him Worthy.

“He had a sister whom he called Mimmie, and it is a story of these two I want to tell you this evening.”

Jack and Evelyn looked very much pleased. They loved to hear about other children, especially of boys and girls about their own ages.

“Worthington was unlike some brothers, but he was like you in this way, Jack; he liked to play with his sister. His sister liked, too, to play with him. He never frightened her, but he showed her how to do things, and she was never afraid when she was with him. In the fall he took her for rides in her express-cart, and he made a high seat in the cart for her when he took her for slower and more stylish rides.

“He taught her to climb trees and to swim and to do tricks on the trapeze. And she, too, used to play in the snowball fights, back in the forts which he and the other boys would make.

“Well, it was summer, and Worthington was not going to school. He thought and he thought and he thought, and finally he said:

“‘I wonder if it couldn’t be done. I will try anyway.’ He worked out the whole scheme in his head, and the next day he went to his aunt who owned a garden, and he said:

“‘Auntie, I have been thinking about something.’

“‘This summer,’ he began, ‘I could hoe the beans in your garden, and I could weed the garden paths. I could water the flowers every night, and do all the weeding, in fact. You wouldn’t need to have a man do the work, except one day a week to do the heavy things. And then I thought I could give Mimmie a present of skates and boots out of my own money in the fall.’ And Auntie engaged him as an assistant gardener then and there.”

JULY 2: The Best Dream

“Some children,” said daddy, “were playing.

“‘Let’s pretend we’re awfully rich,’ said two of the children. ‘We shall have motor-cars and we shall have airplanes to fly in. We shall have quantities of people to give orders to. We’ll never have to tidy our rooms, and we’ll never have to run errands.’ So they began to play.

“Three other children said, ‘Let’s be very famous. We shall have all the people in the world swarm around us as the bees do around the flowers for the honey. They shall say how fine we are, how brave we are, and how noble. They’ll put up monuments to us.’

“And still three other children wanted to play. ‘We want to play that we have a few animals. They are such fun! More fun than anything. And if we treat them right we’ll be loved so much. Yes, we shall play we have two dogs and a little pony.’

“Now the Dream-King was sitting on a throne made of silver threads so beautifully woven that they held together and gave him the most wonderful of thrones. Over his head were little boys and girls flying about, and there were Fairies, Gnomes, Elves, Brownies. And that night the Dream-King sent dreams to these children. They all had their play-games made real in their dreams. The two children who wanted to play they were very rich, dreamed they were rich, but oh, how they hated it! All around them were butlers and servants in wonderful liveries. And they had great motor-cars which were driven by quiet, stiff persons who wouldn’t answer questions. They felt as if they owned absolutely nothing at all, for everything was taken care of by some one else. They weren’t allowed to play and get the least little scrap dirty, for they had to wear such wonderful clothes! Oh, it was a very miserable dream.

“The children who wanted to be very famous dreamed they were surrounded by people who never let them move so they could play. They saw a monument put up in a park with their names written in stone. But the monument was too big to play with.

“The children with the dogs and the pony were having the most gorgeous dream. They were taking such care of their pets and the animals loved them so.

“But at last the Dream-King left them, and they awoke suddenly.

“And one and all agreed that animals and games were fun, but that riches and fame were very, very dull.”

JULY 3: The Hash and the Watermelon

The hash was talking to the watermelon. “I must tell you what the lady of the house said. ‘Well, we’ll have to have some hash, I fear. I know every one will be furious, but still one can’t waste food. And I’ll have watermelon as a great treat for dessert to make up for having hash first.’

“Oh, dear,” said the watermelon, “that was too bad. I should think you would hate me as a result.”

“Well, I don’t,” said the hash, “for I haven’t a jealous disposition. I know that I’ve got to be made and so have the members of my family all over the country, right down through history, I believe, for things must not be wasted. But it doesn’t seem as if I were so dreadful as they make me out to be. I think that if cooks bothered a little bit more about me and put in some nice seasoning people might get so they’d say, ‘Oh, we’re going to have hash to-night; goodie, goodie!’ That would certainly rejoice the family of hash if such a thing ever happened.”

“I do believe some day people will come to see your true worth,” said the watermelon.

“Ah, that’s it,” said the hash. “I have so much true worth and no charm! I wish I had a little charm, so people would relish me and enjoy me. But I do send out an entreaty to cooks to please season us and make us as nice as possible, for hash is getting tired of insults and would like to be liked just for a change.”

JULY 4: Independence Day

“The bird,” said daddy, “which has been chosen as the emblem of this country—the bald eagle—has very wonderful and amazing vision or eye-sight, which seems so particularly splendid.

“And doesn’t it seem fine to think that our national bird is not only so powerful and free and so much a part of the whole country—for his range is not limited to one part—but that he can see so far?

“For when our national bird can see so far surely it must make us try to see far ahead too and to see clearly and to see truly so that we can all do our best to march on along the paths set for us that July 4th, 1776, in Independence Hall, Philadelphia.”

JULY 5: The Sun and the Thunder

“Now Mr. Sun was feeling lazy,” said daddy, “and besides this was his day for playing tag with the King of the Clouds and old King Thunder. For (would you believe it?) Mr. Sun is very fond of a good old-fashioned game of tag once in a while, and he began now trying to catch King Thunder.

“As he did so he got back of one of the clouds and it became quite dark on the earth. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘old King Thunder, come here! Those people down on the earth said they were glad you had stopped making such a noise! I wouldn’t stand it if I were you. Go back and tell them what you think of them! Roar your hardest!’

“And sure enough the Thunder and Rain began again, and the Earth People said: ‘We’re having one of those days when one moment the sun is shining and the next it is thundering and raining.’”

JULY 6: The True Story of a Dog

The Fourth of July had passed and Jack and Evelyn were still very tired, but daddy had a story to tell them, a really true story, and, of course, they were very eager to hear it.

“There was a dog once named Dash. He was an Irish setter, and he belonged to an army family. His master was a young lieutenant in the army, and his master’s father was a general.

“Now, this dog was quite old, but he had led an active life which had agreed with him splendidly, and he didn’t behave as if he were old at all. There were several young children in the family, and he was made a great pet. What he liked above everything was the sound of guns.

“He had been to numerous army posts, and each one seemed to him to be quite perfect, especially on the days of target practise or when the salutes were fired.

“But, alas, one summer the family went to live in a stupid, quiet little village, where there was absolutely no life at all.

“Dash seemed to be pining away in the village. Quiet country life didn’t agree with this dog of the army. The family thought that maybe Dash was going to die of old age until one day came—the day of joy to so many thousands of people! And it was the day for Dash. ‘Could it be true?’ he thought to himself when he first heard the sound of a huge dynamite cracker. Then came another. With a bound Dash was out of his corner, wide awake and barking furiously. There was no more sleep for that household that night, but little did they care, for all wished to enter into the celebration.

“Late in the day the young lieutenant said to a friend of his: ‘Let’s go off to the river. I have several cannon fire-crackers to send off. I didn’t dare to fire them to-day, as I was afraid they might break the windows. But we can throw them over the bridge. Dash has gone to have his supper and is somewhat calmed down.’

“So off they started for the river, and over the bridge they threw a lighted cannon cracker. Just before it landed in the water off it went with a terrific report.

“They had lighted the other and thrown it into the water when Dash went bounding into the river, swimming toward the awful firecracker. These crackers had been recommended as ‘sure to go off,’ and there was the beloved Dash going for it.

“But the firecracker did not go off! Dash sniffed at it disgustedly, while his master breathed the biggest sigh of relief and thanks of his life.”

JULY 7: The Rabbit Named Pigeon

“Why, what is the trouble, Mrs. Pouter Pigeon?” said Mother Rabbit.

“Oh,” sobbed Mrs. Pouter Pigeon, “I have fallen and hurt myself terribly! I won’t be able to get out of reach of bigger animals who may want to eat me up, and I don’t want to be eaten up.”

At that she burst into more sobs.

“Well, to tell you the truth,” said Mother Rabbit, “I don’t believe there is a creature living who wants to be eaten up. But you come and live with us, and I will see that you are protected.”

So Mrs. Pouter Pigeon went to live with Mother Rabbit. They became very friendly and attached to one another.

And then when the next little bunny rabbit was born his mother said, “Now I shall name him Pigeon after you, Mrs. Pouter Pigeon.”

And Mrs. Pouter Pigeon strutted about and said, “You have not only saved my life by having me come and live with you, but now you are paying me a fine compliment.”

JULY 8: The Big Tent

“This story,” said daddy, “is to be about Peter Gnome’s circus.

“‘This way to the Big Tent! This way to the Big Tent!’ he called. Over and over again he kept saying it until finally he had enough little creatures following him to fill as big a Tent as ever you’ve seen.

“At last he stopped, and there every one saw an enormous tent made out of birch bark and moss. Inside there were seats made of old trees, and there were also Reserved Seats of old pieces of trees covered with moss. Most of the Fairies took Reserved Seats.

“And there were poles to keep the tent up. Some of the Spiders and Caterpillars who had followed along climbed up the poles. For they said they might miss a great many sights if they stayed on the ground, but if they were high up they would see everything that was going on.

“Then the circus began. And such a circus as it was. The Gnomes had certainly practised some very fine tricks, and the way they dashed about the ring in the center of the tent, and the way they turned somersaults and did tricks, made the Brownies and Elves and Fairies delighted beyond words that they had been invited.

“But when all the tricks were over, and all the little creatures thought it was time to leave, out came Peter Gnome and stood on the platform made of a toadstool in the center of the ring.

“‘Ladies and Gentlemen,’ said Peter Gnome—for he had heard that was what they were called in the real circus tents—‘I want to take up a few minutes of your time.’

“‘It’s not our time any more than any one else’s,’ interrupted one of the Snails who had come in late.

“‘Well,’ continued Peter Gnome, ‘for a little while I wish to talk to you. And this is what I want to say. After this circus there will be a concert—one of the finest concerts ever heard. And in addition to that there will be a Side Show where will be seen the Bearded Lady and the Tallest Man living. All keep your seats and one of the Gnomes will be around to collect from you the extra payment of two stems of grass.’

“All of the Fairies and the rest of the audience laughed when Peter Gnome said that. For well they knew he didn’t want any payment for the concert and Side Show, but that he thought it would be so much more fun to have a Gnome go around and make believe to collect it.”

“Who was the tallest man?” asked Jack.

“Old Mr. Giant,” said daddy. “He had been made to come just this once, and he did enjoy being made such a fuss of. The only thing he didn’t like so much was when some of the Spiders crawled up his great long legs and tickled him a little. But soon they stopped when they saw he didn’t like it and began weaving webs instead.

“‘All right,’ said Mr. Giant. ‘Make all the homes you like. I’ll carry you to my Cave when I go, and you can have your homes there.’ The Spiders, of course, were delighted.

“And the Bearded Lady turned out to be none other than Peter Gnome himself—dressed in a fine gown of oak leaves and wearing over his face a mask made out of the roots of trees!”

JULY 9: Mrs. Hippopotamus

“Ladies,” said Mrs. Hippopotamus, “are often very vain. They care about their figures and about their looks and about their hats and about their shoes. They care about their dresses and they care about the styles, while I, the fine Mrs. Hippopotamus, am above such things.

“I do not care if my legs are short and my body enormous and all out of proportion to my legs.

“I do not care if my mouth is like a cavern—it is so large. I do not mind it that my skin is so queer, of a funny dark brown color with all sorts of little holes and marks and such all over me.

“I have horribly oily stuff over me too, but I do not mind. What is more, there is great sense to that. That keeps me from getting ill when I go about rivers in Africa where there are all kinds of fevers and much sickness.

“I have great teeth, teeth such as no lady would like, I’m sure. They like little white even teeth, silly little things.

“I’m above such things. I’m not ashamed of my teeth. I like them. They’re good sensible, strong teeth. And I’m not going to worry because they’re irregular. I’m not so vain as to long for regular teeth.

“My teeth and tusks can act like scissors for they’re shaped so as to act that way. That’s better than having white even teeth.

“I live in the water and there I go and look for my food. I don’t go into silly shops and to market as ladies do.

“But there is just one thing I feel in sympathy with ladies about—at least all ladies who are loving mothers—I can understand what it means to have a baby look at its mother out of its lovely baby eyes which are as beautiful as anything in the world. And I can see its love for its mother, and oh, my whole heart goes out with love for it.

“Yes, sometimes when you see the great old ugly hippopotamus you must not only think of the ugliness but you must say, ‘Back of that thick hide, behind that awful jaw and those hideous features, deep down in the heart of a mother hippopotamus there is love and devotion and the beautiful joy of giving of that love to one’s own baby.’

“For a baby hippopotamus is a baby to be loved by a mother hippopotamus.”

JULY 10: The Papoose

“IN a quaint old city,” said daddy, “Indians come into town every Saturday morning with bright-colored baskets and beaded moccasins. They make these things and they make beaded bags and purses and little ornaments.

“They drive oxen instead of horses and the oxen move as slowly as if they did not care in the least if they ever got anywhere at all!

“The Indian women, or squaws as they are called, carry large baskets upon their heads in which are the things they have to sell, smaller baskets, purses and moccasins.

“Sometimes, too, they bring into the town flowers in the summer and in the autumn red berries—for they have a little village of their own out in the country. They are not wild at all and they would not dream of hurting any one.

“One day a little girl named Olive was sitting in her room reading when she heard the front door bell ring. She went downstairs and there was a little Indian girl, not any older than herself.

“‘Will the beautiful lady buy pretty basket?’ asked the little Indian girl.

“Olive was so pleased! She was not nearly big enough to be called ‘lady,’ for she was still very young, and she knew quite well that she was not beautiful at all. She had freckles and a very big mouth, and she had only a little hair which was quite straight. And she was tall for her age and much too thin. But she had never been called beautiful before and though she knew the little Indian girl was quite wrong, still she was delighted.

“‘You are beautiful yourself,’ said Olive. For the Indian girl had long black hair and enormous dark eyes, wonderful dark skin with quite a good deal of color.

“‘Me beautiful?’ she asked. ‘Oh no, me not beautiful at all.’

“They each thought the other beautiful because each was so different.

“Olive bought some baskets for her mother and a little beaded purse for herself and then she said to the little Indian girl:

“‘Won’t you have some cocoa with me?’ The little Indian girl nodded her head and said: ‘Me like goodies!’

“So Olive and the little Indian girl went into Olive’s room and had a fine feast, using blue cups and saucers and eating bread and butter from little blue plates.

“‘Me tell you story?’ asked the little Indian girl. Olive was delighted.

“‘Please,’ she said. And the little Indian girl began:

“‘My brudder, he very big man. He tall and strong and plenty muscle he has.’ She bent her arms to show what she meant by muscle and she stood up with her arms above her to show how tall he was. ‘He build a boat,’ she went on, ‘a red boat—a canoe—and he take it along water so it never make a sound. He know how to paddle so! Never a sound!

“‘We have a river by our hut and he keep the boat by the bank, tied to an old tree. He take us all out in it, but what do you suppose he call that boat?’

“Olive couldn’t guess. She tried many names she thought the boat might be called, but they were all wrong. ‘Tell me,’ she begged.

“‘My brudder, he not call his boat after great strong man, or after warrior or hero; no, he call boat after our little baby brudder—what mudder call the little wee one. He call his boat the Papoose which mean an Indian baby—and he mean our baby. His boat which can go out into the big waves and not upset—which is so strong, like my brudder—it is named the Papoose after the baby!’ Her eyes were dancing with joy but it was time for her to be off.

“She put her basket on top of her head and started off. ‘Will your fadder bring you to see the big Papoose and the little Papoose?’ she asked as she left, and to Olive’s great delight her mother called out:

“‘We will take you some time.’ And both little girls left each other smiling and happy.”

JULY 11: A Feast for the Mice

“I am going to tell you about Mr. Gray Mouse’s feast,” said daddy. “There were biscuits of all sorts and soft cream cheese—such cheese as mice had never had before. Their mouths and paws were covered with it, and one of the little children mice said:

“‘Let’s not wipe off our whiskers. We can do that later on when we may be getting hungry again—perhaps after we’re in bed.’ So all the children mice had very sticky mouths and whiskers. But the big mice said:

“‘Let the children have a good time, for this is a real party.’ And Mr. Gray Mouse was very much pleased that all his guests were having such a good time.

“When the party was over and it was time to go home, Mr. LongTail Mouse said: ‘I’m getting tired of our present home. Let’s all have a change. I have been looking at new homes for a little time to be ready in case we ever wanted to move, and I know of a fine one.’

“‘Let’s go,’ said Grandpa Gray Mouse. ‘I never believe in living in one home too long. That’s why I’m such an old mouse, and have lived so much longer than most. I keep changing homes—and I fool the cats!’

“So all the mice went to a new home—for they knew in a short time after the feast they had just had that a cat would be invited to the house to live!”

JULY 12: Knowing How to Swim

“In a shallow river was a deep hole,” said daddy. “Two little girls were wading in the shallow part. Only one of them could swim, and swimming I think is not only good fun but is something every one should be able to do. Alas, the little girl who could not swim slipped on a stone and fell into the deep water. And had it not been for the one who could swim a little girl would have lost her life.”

JULY 13: Flower Dreams

“The Fairy Queen,” said daddy, “gives sweet dreams to all the flowers. It is part of her work. That is why the flowers are happy and rested and beautiful everywhere. Even out on country roads where there is dust, hard ground and rough places, lovely flowers grow up and are proud and happy as they hear people going by in their automobiles or carriages or walking, exclaiming how wonderful they are.

“Now and again, some little flower turns to one side in the wrong way and it has a bad dream, and then when it wakes up it is not lovely like its brothers or sisters. But that seldom happens. And so, you see, flowers know about sweet dreams—all owing to the Fairy Queen.”

JULY 14: The Naughty Breezes

“One day old Mr. North Wind had been very busy,” commenced daddy. “He had told the Breeze Children that they must be very good because he had so much work to do.

“‘What have you to do?’ they asked him.

“‘I have to go to the woods and knock down all the old branches so they won’t fall on people’s heads! I must attend to many things.’

“Now the Breeze Children were very apt to be naughty. ‘Let’s do some work too,’ they said.

“‘What shall we do?’ one of them asked.

“‘Well, let’s blow about a little and find something.’

“Pretty soon they passed by a window of an office. There were a great many papers lying about on the desks and as one of the little Breeze Children said:

“‘There doesn’t seem to be much to do here,’ the papers began to blow this way and that.

“‘Oh, let’s blow papers,’ they shouted as they saw what had happened. And all that day they went about from window to window blowing all the papers they could find. Such a time they had!

“That is why there are paper weights—all because of the Breeze Children who are almost too fond of fun.”

JULY 15: The Coral Families

“Why aren’t we called coral insects any more, mother?” asked the small coral polyp. Coral is a hard substance used for jewelry and ornaments, you know.

“Because, my dear,” said the mother, “you are a kind of animal, and not insect. It is incorrect to call you an insect, just as it would be wrong to call me one.”

“But somehow,” said the coral polyp, “I would rather be called an insect than a polyp. A polyp doesn’t seem to mean much.”

“It means what you are,” said his mother. “But perhaps that doesn’t mean much. We aren’t big enough to think of what we are called. We just belong to a big group and you and I have grown friendly. That is why you call me mother polyp. But maybe I am your mother polyp after all. It really is too much trouble to think about. We have beautiful homes and so have all the members of our family. Just think, we have an island named after our homes. It is called Coral Island.

“Oh, I do feel so sorry for those who live in wooden houses and in brick houses. How ugly their homes are. Think of wood and brick compared to coral. Now we live and get all our support from our coral homes. And think how wonderful they are? Some are of red coral and some of pink, but all are beautiful.

“Yes, the more I think of it, the more I’m sorry for the creatures who live in houses of wood or brick, ground holes or rough nests.

“Besides, it is so much finer to have a home on the water—a coast home is far nicer than an inland home.”

“Well, I suppose,” said the young polyp, “that it all depends on how one looks at it.”

“I look at it from the standpoint of a polyp,” said the mother polyp proudly.

“To be sure we are wonderful to have such homes,” said the young polyp. “And still finer than that is the fact that we have a shoemaker in the family.”

“What?” asked mother polyp.