Chapter C: M. R

DOGGIE AND PUSS.

A doggie lay upon a mat,
And as on it he lay,
A little puss came up to him
And said, “Oh! come away.
The sun is shining brightly
And everything looks gay.”

Said Doggie, “Yes, I'll come with you
And take a holiday.”
Then said he, as they strolled about,
“It is the first of May.”
Said Puss, “Of that I knew before,
Have you nothing else to say?”
Poor Doggie then offended was,
He wished her a good day,
He turned upon his heel and went
And walked another way.

DAISY GRACE.

Tittle-Tattle Tales,
Or Fireside Stories.

Before we go to bed at night,
And Nursie takes away the light,
Aunt Grace tells tales to Ted and me,
Such lovely stories, you'll agree,

About a sweet Princess named May,
Who gathered flow'rs one summer day;
Her peacock followed close behind,
He loved her, for she _was_ so kind.

But when she reached the palace door,
She heard a sudden, dreadful roar,
There stood the dragon, fierce and grim!
Poor May had often heard of him;

And as he roared and lashed his tail,
She shook with fear and grew quite pale,
But then her peacock came in sight,
And rushing up with all his might,

He pecked the dragon hard and long,
Though small, he was both brave and strong.
And soon, I'm very glad to say,
That horrid dragon went away!

Aunt tells another story then,—
Some nigger boys, there were just ten,
Kept disappearing, one by one,
Until one morning there were none

So then we beg her to be quick,
And tell us of a boy named Dick,
Who was so very, very poor,
Such patched and ragged clothes he wore.

But still he tried to do his best,
And didn't _mean_ to feel distressed,
So went to London town one day,
And had adventures on the way.

A shopman gave him work to do,
He worked so hard, and nicely too,
That he got rich, grew strong and tall,
And was Lord Mayor after all.

Then Father Christmas, as you know,
On Christmas Eve has far to go,
And once he got in _such_ a state,
For fear that he should be too late,

But Auntie tells how he drove fast,
And filled the stockings up at last,—
And then she kisses me and Ted,
And says—“Now, darlings, go to bed!”

THE KITKIN FAMILY

My name is Snowball—Miss Snowball Kitkin.

I was called Snowball because I am quite white all over, and very soft and fluffy.

There are four of us altogether—Kitty, Tabby, Fluffy, and me.

When we were very little we used to live up in the stable loft with our Mother, and she used to teach us all the things a cat should know.

We did not like learning very much, but I don't believe anyone ever does.

It was horrid having to wash our faces every morning, and I used to wish I was black like Kitty, then I need not have been so particular, but Mother said that was all nonsense.

When we were clean and tidy, we had breakfast out of the brown saucer; we liked that, especially when Cook remembered to sweeten the milk with lumps of sugar.

As soon as we were old enough to go out by ourselves, we had fine fun.

But one day Tabby very nearly got himself into trouble.

Tabby, you see, was rather a bold, bad kitten; he was always wanting to fight people, and one day he thought it would be splendid to have a quarrel with Mike.

Mike was the black and white fox terrier, who thought no end of himself; but Tabby did not care a bit what he thought, so he just stood in front of him, stuck up his tail, and—spat as hard as he could.

This was not at all what Mike was accustomed to, and he got stiff all over, and then—he growled and showed his teeth. In another minute I think he would have gone for Tabby, had not Miss Daisy picked him up and carried him off. Tabby never told me, but I believe he was very glad to find himself out of Mike's reach.

As this story is told by me, I thought you would like to have a picture of me, taken all by myself, so what do you think I did?

I knew Miss Daisy had been given a dear little camera on her birthday, and that she was making pictures with it all day long, so one morning I went and sat on the wooden chair in the hall, just where the sun was shining very brightly. I sat quite still, and then Miss Daisy and her camera came along, as I felt sure they would, and I had my likeness taken, and—here it is.

Oh how proud I was of myself after that, and Miss Daisy was so pleased with me for sitting so still that she gave me a beautiful blue ribbon to wear round my neck.

Alas! that blue ribbon was the cause of great trouble to me.

I just jumped on the kitchen table to look at myself in the glass, and—I upset a bowl of milk that Cook had put ready for a pudding.

I jumped after it, and—oh what a lovely feast I had; but my ribbon got all splashed and wet—I was in such a hurry—and that was how Cook found out it was I who had upset the milk. She would not let me go into the kitchen for three whole days afterwards.

I was very dull for those three days. You see, there were mice and all kinds of nice things in the kitchen, and my whiskers were growing fast, and that makes you feel that you want mice more than anything else almost.

On the third day I went and explored in Cook's bedroom.

All kinds of funny things I found in it, and oh! such lovely slippers to play with.

I took one of these slippers, one with a big bow on the toe. I took it and hid it in the garden, to punish Cook for being so angry with me. It was a very difficult thing for a kitten to do, I can tell you, and I had to rest many times on the way, but I did it, and then I went and sat in the sun and watched, and what do you think I saw? Why, that horrid person, Mike, must have seen all I did, for he went straight to where I had hidden it, and carried it off to Cook. She gives him bones; that is why he chums up to her. Oh, how I should have liked to have—scratched him.

I must not forget to tell you about Tabby and Fluffy and their “night out.”

It was in the summer time, and they had been playing all the evening on the lawn, and then they disappeared.

They never came in to supper, and they never came in to bed. We never saw a sign of them till the next morning, when they came back looking as proud as you please.

Then they told us what they had been doing. They had been having a mouse hunt in the kitchen.

They had hidden under the big armchair in which Cook sits on Sundays, and then, when it was all quite dark and quiet, they had watched the big hole by the store cupboard.

In a little while, two fat mice had popped out, and then—the hunt began.

“We caught them both,” said Fluffy. “We had one each. Oh, what a lovely time we had!”

Next time they go hunting, I am going, too.

One day Kitty and I had a most tremendous adventure. We went to the grand Show up in London.

The journey was not a bit nice, but we kept very close to each other, and shut our eyes up tight, and tried to pretend we were not shut up in a hamper, but under Cook's chair, waiting for the mice to come out.

When we got to the Show we felt a little strange, but we soon got used to the noise and all the people.

“We must look our best, Kitty, Miss Daisy said so,” I whispered. “We are much handsomer than the other cats here; let us show ourselves off.”

And we did.

Presently a lady came and pinned a big white card, with “First Prize” on it, right in front of us. We showed ourselves off more than ever after that.

This is our picture. Don't you think we deserved the First Prize?

I do!

NORA PITT-TAYLOR.

Wooden Toys.

I have a little cartie, and
I have a little horse,
And I have a little dolly;
All are made of wood, of course.

I have a wooden farmyard,
With wooden sheep and cows,
With wooden trees and houses,
Wooden pigs, cats and bow-wows.

Then I have a wooden bucket,
And a little wooden spade;
Of wooden bricks a lovely
Little doll's house I have made.

Now mamma says, when I grow up
Things different will be;
My horses, if I have any,
Will real horses be.

That sheep will not be made of wood,
And no more wooden cows
Or pigs; that dogs will bark and bite,
Unlike good wood bow-wows.

Just fancy, dogs that bark and bite;
And other creatures real;
How very funny I at first
Shall, when I'm with them, feel.

So let me love you very much,
You pretty wooden toys;
How kind they are to make such things
For little girls and boys.

Tick Tock

I'm a tall old-fashioned clock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
Though I chatter all the day,
Two words only do I say,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!

I'm a curious old clock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
And a carved old oaken case,
Both my hands are on my face,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!

Once Miss Bessie tore her frock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
Nurse then put her into bed,
She was cross—I only said
Tick-tock! tick-tock!

Master Bertie did me mock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
Then he shook me till I stopped,
I cried when he to bed was popped,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!

Once his head got such a knock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
That they thought he'd surely die,
While he screamed I made reply,
Tick-tock! Tick-tock!

Nurse will oft the cradle rock,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!
Near to me it stands, and I
Sing the baby's lullaby,
Tick-tock! tick-tock!

Neddy

On Monday morn when I went out,
I had a big surprise;
There was a baby donkey,
With the beautif'llest brown eyes!

His coat was grey and very soft,
And his legs were long as long;
He wasn't near so tall as me,
And just 'bout half as strong.

When I carry him a bowl of milk
I say out loud and plain;
“If you drink it up so quickly, Ned,
You'll surely have a pain!”

My Daddy says I must not ride
Him round the field just yet,
For my legs must grow longer first,
And his must stouter get.

His mummy's name is Bunny Brown,
She has a comfy shed
Upon a hillock in the field,
Where Neddy's put to bed.

Poor Trust is lying in the shed,
His foot is tied up tight,
'Cause Father put some stuff on it,
To make it feel all right.

Trust went too near the naughty cow,
That's always rather cross;
She ran at him and knocked him down,
Then gave him such a toss.

I hope my darling little Ned
Will take the greatest care
To keep alongside Bunny Brown
If Jenny should be near.

If she should hurt my pretty Ned,
I don't know what I'd do!
I think I'd hit her _very_ hard,
Until she simply flew.

I'll give my Neddy lots of milk,
Until he's quite, quite grown,
For Father's given him to me,
For my very, very own.

Silly Billy and the Kittens.

“I want some milk,” said Kitten Number One.

“So do we,” said his brothers, and away they pattered to the yard, where they found a lovely saucer full.

“Saucers are too babyish for me,” said Kitten Number One, “I shall drink out of the jug.” And up on the table he jumped.

Along came Silly Billy, the kid.

“You will never do it like that,” he said. “Bite a hole in the jug, like this.”

What happened then, you can plainly see by the picture, and it is the kind of thing that does happen when Silly Billy comes along.

When the Kittens and Silly Billy were safely out of the way, Mr. and Mrs. Whiskers popped out of their front door.

“Milk, milk, I sniff milk,” squeaked Mrs. Whiskers, and she began to drink up every drop she could find, while poor Mr. Whiskers sat and cried because he could not find any.

But he soon dried his tears when they got to the scrap heap, where they ate till they were like little round barrels.

Meanwhile, Silly Billy had told the kittens of a lovely plate of food, outside the kennel where Jack lived.

And the foolish kittens hurried to it, and began to eat as fast as they could.

Out of his kennel came Jack, with a mighty shout, which sent the kittens rolling over with fright. They never tried to eat Jack's dinner again, and it was a long time before they quite forgave Silly Billy for being so silly.

NORA PITT-TAYLOR.

Tony

Tony is a little dog,
That lives just up our street.
He really is the sweetest dog
That ever you could meet.

When I go out he runs to me,
And says, “What shall we play?
At hide-and-seek, or fox and goose?”
That's what he seems to say—

Sometimes we play at motor-cars,
My! how I have to run!
But Tony thinks That chasing cats
Is quite the bestest fun!

But if he bites poor Pussy's Tail,
Then I am very strict;
I make him sit up straight and beg
Until his conscience's pricked.

THE CATS AND THE CHEESE,
Or, Better Agree than Go to Law.

Two cats took some stolen cheese to a monkey to divide for them, as they could not agree about it. The monkey put a piece of cheese into each side of the scales. One piece weighed down the other, and from this the monkey took a large bite; this made the other side heavier, so he bit a great piece off that.

The cats tried to stop him, but he only laughed and went on biting first one piece and then the other, until both had disappeared, and the cats were left with nothing at all.

The Doll's House To Let.

This dear little house you can see is “To Let,”
For our dollies are moving away;
Will you run round to-morrow and see if it suits?
For we shall be busy to-day.

Now Jackie and Mollie pretended they were
The man on the furniture van,
They loaded the truck as full as they could,
And off down the garden they ran.

We took out the dollies, and sat them all down,
While we packed up each table and chair,
We all worked so hard, that when tea-time came round
We were ready the good things to share.

We got some nice paper, and pen, and some ink,
We printed “To Let” on the bill;
And we wrote on a card which we sent to friends,
“Pray live in this house, if you will.”

The postman soon brought a reply to our note,
Which asked if a stranger might call,
We told him to come as soon as he could,
And we waited for him in the hall.

The visitor came and looked over the house,
And promised to take it next June;
They liked all the rooms, and the garden as well,
So our house will be full again soon.

P. S. BRUFF.

The Fox that Lost his Tail,
_Or, Do not Follow every Fashion you see._

From ÆSOP'S FABLES.

A young fox who went to steal chickens in a farmyard, got his beautiful bushy tail caught in a trap.

Finding it impossible to get away, he bit off his tail and ran home, feeling very much ashamed of his appearance when the other foxes laughed.

“Tails are quite out of fashion,” he said, as they went on laughing.

“They are no use, and dangerous, too. You can run faster without them. Why not cut them off as I have done?”

Some of the smart young foxes were eager to be in the fashion; but a wise old one slyly said, “We will wait till we are caught in traps before we bite off our tails.”

Mrs. Gamp and Mrs. Puss-Cat

Mrs. Gamp and Mrs. Puss-Cat lived all by themselves in a wee wee house. Mrs. Gamp was a dear old soul with snowy white hair, and rosy red cheeks, and such a smiling face and kind soft heart.

Mrs. Puss-Cat had a lovely tabby coat, as smooth as velvet, and a beautiful fluffy tail. Her eyes were bright and twinkly, and she would sit in front of the fire for hours and hours thinking of nothing but mischief.

One day Mrs. Gamp was invited out to tea. She put on her very best gown, and her new mob-cap trimmed with ribbons and flowers.

When she looked at herself in the glass she felt pleased!

As soon as Mrs. Gamp had gone, Mrs. Puss-Cat gave three loud purrs of joy, and all the mischief she had been thinking came out at once.

She trotted into the garden and got her feet all covered with mud.

Then she scampered upstairs, and danced a cat dance all over the clean white counterpane on Mrs. Gamp's bed. She climbed on the washstand, and upset the water jug, then she squeezed into the wardrobe, and pulled Mrs. Gamp's dresses out on to the floor. And some of them she tore to teeny tiny shreds!

When she had finished she darted out of the room.

But alack-a-day! At the top of the stairs she slipped, and fell—bumpetty, bumpetty, bump, all the way to the bottom.

Presently Mrs. Gamp came home. And the first thing she heard was a strange noise in the kitchen. First a miaou. Then a sob. Then more miaous. Then—sob, sob, sob! She opened the door, and there, perched upon a stool in front of the dresser sat Mrs. Puss-Cat.

Her head was swollen very, _very_ big. Round her neck was tied some of the ribbon off Mrs. Gamp's best bonnet, and another piece was twisted round one fat paw. And from her big round eyes great tear-drops were falling—splash, splash upon the floor.

Mrs. Gamp threw up her arms. “Oh! dearie me!” she cried. “What ever is the matter? Oh! dearie, dearie me!”

“Miaou, miaou!” sobbed Mrs. Puss-Cat. “Oh! my poor paw! My poor, poor paw!”

Mrs. Gamp's tender heart was touched. She rushed upstairs to fetch some ointment. But when she opened her bedroom door—well! _you_ know what she saw!

Her tender heart grew cold as stone, and oh! she was _so_ angry! She raced downstairs, and gave Mrs. Puss-Cat the biggest whipping she had ever given her before.

Then she took off her best ribbon, and opened the front door wide.

And Mrs. Puss-Cat went slinking out with her tail between her legs, and a terribly vicious look in her big round eyes.

But Mrs. Gamp's heart soon grew tender again.

She opened the front door, and called Mrs. Puss-Cat back. And Mrs. Puss-Cat came at once, looking very penitent and sad.

Mrs. Gamp gave her some nice hot milk, and put her in a comfy basket in front of the fire.

Then she sat by her side, and stroked her smooth velvety head.

And slowly all the naughty mischief slipped out of Mrs. Puss-Cat's head, and nice, kind thoughts came in.

And now she is really and truly the nicest Mrs. Puss-Cat in the world.

The Conceited Golliwog.

Said a conceited Golliwog,
Whose name was Billy Brown,
“I can play the banjo better
Than any man in town.”

When Billy Brown a concert gave,
He'd scarce begun to play,
When half the audience stopped their ears,
And half ran fast away!

O Billy Brown, O Boys and Girls,
Who to be famous thirst,
Remember, if you would succeed,
You're bound to _practise_ first.

Dolly's Name.

I knew a charming little girl!
They call her “Darling May,”
She was so glad when mother bought
For her a doll, one day.

She skipped and jumped and ran about,
And clapped her hands with glee,
“Oh dear!” she said, “I'm sure mamma
This cannot be for me?

“Just see what lovely eyes it has,
What lovely golden hair;
It's feet and hands are made of wax,
“'Tis perfect everywhere.

“I'll set to work and make its clothes,
A hat, too, with the rest,
And it must have a pretty name,
I wonder which is best!

“'Alice' and 'Bess' and 'Mary Annie'
Are not so very new;
No, dolly, dear, I'll try to find
A better name for you.

“'Priscilla Prue' sounds rather nice,
So does 'Belinda Jane,'
But they're so long—dear me, how hard
It is to choose a name!

“I wonder how mamma chose mine,
It's 'Alice Evelyn May;'
I'm sure it must have taken her
Much longer than a day.

“Perhaps, she asked me which I'd like,
Tho' it's so long ago—
Six great long years—that if she did
I've quite forgot you know.

“I think, dear dolly, quite new names
Are rather hard to find,
So if I cannot think of one,
I hope you will not mind.

“I'd like to find you one that's grand,
But nice and pretty too—
Oh! now I know, 'Victoria Rose,'
Is just the name for you.”

AUNTIE.

The Call to Arms.

The gallant soldiers, here they come!
A crowd of girls and boys,
Dot walks in front, and beats the drum,
It makes a splendid noise!

Sue has a flag, and Rose a gun,
So very fierce is she,
She _will_ take aim at ev'ryone,
And nearly shoots a tree!

But “Who goes there?” shouts little Jack,
“Speak, is it friend or foe?
I've got my gun—they're going back,
I heard a cart, I know!”

“_My_ cart,” says Sergeant Tom, with pride,
“Take care, you musn't shake,
I've got six wounded men inside,
Who badly need some cake!

“I'm 'fraid this one is rather bad,
He's lost a lot of paint.”
“Poor fellow,” Rosie cries, “how sad,
I hope that he won't faint!

“Some tea will quickly cure his pain,
And here's a currant bun.”
So soon, they're all quite well again,
And joining in the fun.

“Now back to war!” shouts Captain Jim,
“Come on to do or die!”
His soldiers bravely follow him,
And wave their flags on high.

Hurrah! Hurrah! they've seized the fort,
As Captain Jimmy said!—
“Oh dear, why _are_ the days so short?
Nurse says it's time for bed!”

“Lieutenant Sue's the best I've found,
I noticed in the fight,
With bullets flying all around,
She kept our flag upright.”

He sighs, for, though the bugle blows,
The soldiers want their tea,
“My tea set's new, do come,” cries Rose,
“And have a cup with me!”

Then Captain Jimmy with a smile
Says “Yes, my men, all right,
You're all “off duty” for a while,
The rest will help you fight.”

Jim rides a chair—I mean a horse—
And reads the paper too,
For captains have to learn, of course,
What other armies do;

The way to rout the enemy,
And bring the wounded in.
“My fellows are so brave,” says he,
“I'm certain they will win!”

To London Town.

To London town, to London town,
Which is the way to London Town?
One foot up, and one foot down,
That is the way to London town.

A Home in the Wainscot.

One day two little mice entered an old house where they hoped to settle down and make their home, Mr. and Mrs. Mousey by name.

After looking about for some time they decided on a corner close to the kitchen wainscot, and not far from the larder.

They made a cosy little nest of string and paper, working hard all day, hardly resting till late at night. As to food, Mr. Mousey soon found where that was to be got. Many were the visits he paid to the larder, and delicious were the biscuits and cheese that he found there. It almost seemed as if things were left for them, for the biscuits were in bags and the cheese uncovered.

At last the nest was finished and they lay down to rest.

The very next morning six very tiny pinkish-looking things were to be seen in the nest. They had bright eyes and long tails, and would soon grow into brown little animals like their father and mother. Oh, how proud the latter were! Mr. Mousey could hardly keep his eyes off them, and Mrs. Mousey danced round squeaking with delight. “They are beautiful, my dear,” said Mr. Mousey, “just like you.”

“Pardon me, my love,” said his wife, with a proud look at their darlings, “they are likely to be as handsome as you.” The parents embraced each other tenderly, and then Mr. Mousey started off to find food for the little family.

Every day the children grew bigger and stronger, and merry games they had, as they chased each other round the nest.

But, alas! their happiness was not to continue. One sad day a terrible disappointment awaited Mr. Mousey. He had started off on his usual visit to the larder. He returned almost at once, saying,

“My dear, we must move. I heard the Cook say everything was to be put in tins, so we shall starve if we stay, and,” with a shudder, “worse still, she has got a cat. I fear she will hear the children's voices, and we shall be caught.”

So gathering their family around them they told the sad news, and glancing tearfully at their cosy nest, they crept sadly away.

MARY HAMILTON.

We Three

Three little dogs
On mischief bent
Out to play in
The garden went.

Nip lost a shoe,
Rip tore his clothes,
And Chip fell down
And broke his nose—

Chip chased the cat,
Rip drowned the pig
And Nip made mud-pies!
In the gig.

At last their mother
Came out to see;
Then—off to bed
Without their tea!

Under the Big Hat,
or, Jackie and Me.

Jennie and Jackie were twins. They had two dearly-loved playmates, Fifie the puppy, and Fipps the kitten. Fifie was nearly always in disgrace.

One day Fifie thought, “Now I will be good to-day. I will sit in the field and there will be nothing to make me naughty.”

But as he passed through the hall he spied Jennie's doll on a chair.

“Ah!” said Fifie, “Betsy Ann enjoys the fresh air. I'll take her with me.”

So he carried her off and carefully laid her on the grass.

After a while he grew fidgetty and then he saw that Betsy Ann was staring at him with her great eyes.

“Don't stare at me like that!” he barked.

But she took no notice and went on staring. This made him so angry that he bit her foot, and when it came off in his mouth he tore her arm, and then rolled her over and shook and worried her, until she was lying scattered all round him in lots of pieces.

When Jennie ran up with her ball, he was just gnawing off Betsy Ann's left hand.

Jennie was terribly upset about it, and when Nurse came, Fifie was soundly smacked.

Not long after there were fearful mi-ows from the pond. Jennie rushed with her butterfly net, and was just in time to save Fipps from drowning.

He had been trying to catch fish in the pond and had fallen in.

So Jennie carried him home and put him in Betsy Ann's bed.

Jackie used sometimes to dab a little butter on the tip of Fifie's nose just for the fun of seeing him try to lick it off with his tongue and roll his eyes round and round to try and see it.

When Mother heard of Fifie's naughtiness with Betsy Ann, she said that Fifie must wear a muzzle for some hours every day until he learnt to behave better. Poor Fifie! how he hated it and longed to join in the romps with Jennie and Fipps.

However he was so good for a week, that Mother said the muzzle might be left off.

And here you see Jennie with Fifie and Fipps, celebrating the happy occasion with fairy cakes which cook had given them.

There once lived three children named Jones,
Who were constantly breaking their bones;
The youngest, named Jack,
Fell flat on his back,
And uttered some terrible groans.

THE NAUGHTY KITTEN.

She was only a little kitten,
And her fur was very wet,
But her face was round and very soft,
And her hair was black as jet.

This was the kitten's story,
And I think you'll weep to hear,
That she woke one summer's morning
In a temper bad—I fear!

She pulled her mother's whiskers,
And scratched her sister's nose,
And while her brother drank his milk,
She stamped upon his toes.

And then she left the straw place,
In spite of mother's words,
And ran along the meadow,
To tease the little birds.

But as she frisked and trotted,
A fearful sight she saw:
A creature with a scarlet comb,
And a gigantic claw.

It said in voice stentorian,
“Ah! cock-a-doodle doo,”
Which meant although she did not know,
“Small pussy—how d'ye do?”

She turned and fled in terror,
Across the meadow wide,
But she did not see the duck pond,
Until she fell inside!

Then such a splash and mewing,
Made all the field resound;
And if a true friend had not come,
She would have straight been drowned.

This naughty little kitten,
Was whipped and put to bed,
And if you talk of duck ponds,
She always hangs her head.