Chapter VI: Part I: CIVIC Virtues (2)

Just imagine what would happen if there were no such thing as money. Suppose you are working for a baker. At the end of each week, pay day comes; but there is no money, so the baker offers you three hundred loaves of bread for your week’s work. These loaves of bread you would have to exchange for clothing or other needs. This would be a very troublesome thing to do.

To overcome this trouble, therefore, money was invented. Money represents labor or goods. You are paid for your labor or your goods, not in other labor or goods, but in money, which you can carry in your pocket or keep in the bank. And with this money you can buy whatever you need.

Money enables you to leave in the bakery the three hundred loaves of bread you earned, and to buy a loaf as you need it.

Money, then, takes the place of goods, because it can be exchanged for them. To lose or waste money is the same as losing or wasting the goods that money will buy.

A family would be considered foolish to throw enough money to buy a loaf of bread into the river. Yet what difference is there between this family and the one that wastes a loaf of bread, a slice at a time? To waste money or goods is just as bad as to throw them away.

THREE WAYS TO USE MONEY

When we earn money, there are just three ways in which we can use it rightly: save part, spend part, give part away. All three uses are very important.

Money saved should be put in the bank. There it grows by what you add to it from time to time. It also grows by the addition of the interest which the bank pays for the use of money. Money saved is always ready for a rainy day. People who save money always have money to spend.

The spending of money is quite as important as the saving of it. Money should be spent for food to nourish our bodies, for garments to clothe them, and for houses to protect them.

When buying by the pound, see that you get full weight; when buying by the yard or peck, see that you get full measure. The principal thing in buying is to get all that you pay for. In selling, the principal thing is to give full value for the money that you receive.

Money should also be spent for education. Money spent in educating the mind is money well spent. The great successes in life are made by boys and girls who go to school and learn all they can. Many stories could be told about children who have earned and saved money to go to school, and of parents who have sacrificed many pleasures and comforts to help their children gain an education.

To give money away wisely is quite as important as saving or spending it. Money should be saved, not only to spend, but to give away. Else what will you do when Christmas comes and when birthdays come?

Besides, there are the churches, hospitals, orphanages, the Red Cross, and many other good causes that need our gifts. We give our money to these, not with the idea of what we can get out of them, but for the pleasure of helping to make the world a pleasanter and better place in which to live.

QUESTIONS

Do you know that many people start in life without money, and by
saving little sums become prosperous?

When you go to the library, will you ask for books that tell about
successful men, and read about how each of them started in life?

Do you know anyone who has earned or saved money in order to go to
school?

THRIFT DAY

I

“Spend, but do not waste;
Save, but do not be a miser.”

February third has recently been set aside in many places as Thrift Day.

Thrift means wise management.

A thrifty person never wastes what could be saved by thoughtfulness.

A thrifty person is one who does not waste anything, but gets the full value of everything.

A thrifty person sets traps to catch the waste, and changes it into things worth having.

Those who know, say that American people are the most wasteful of all people in the world.

They tell us that we waste money, food, forests, time, energy, and thousands of the little daily supplies which we might save.

If we all save what we can, it will be a very large amount when added together.

It seems like a little thing to throw away one sheet of paper, doesn’t it?

Suppose you count the number of sheets of paper in your writing pad at school. Let us say there are one hundred sheets, and that each pad costs the Board of Education five cents. If there are forty thousand children who waste one sheet of paper a day, the wasted sheets will amount to four hundred pads a day. At five cents a pad, four hundred pads will cost twenty dollars a day. There are about two hundred school days a year. Multiply twenty dollars by two hundred and you will find that the wasted sheets would cost four thousand dollars in a school year!

You would never have imagined that, would you? See how much the school boys and girls can save for the taxpayers, and for the children who will come to school later. That is being thrifty.

If there were but ten thousand boxes of matches in our country, think how careful we would be not to waste one match. But few people think about so simple a matter. Yet matches are made from wood; and forests have to be cut down to make the matches we use.

Old rags and old rubber do not seem to be of any value; yet in every city there are men who grow rich by collecting them.

In some schools the children bring old newspapers on a certain day, and you would be surprised to learn how much money one school made in this way for new playground games. That was thrift.

It seems to be a very little thing to play or idle away an evening; yet it was in odd moments that some of our greatest men studied until they were well educated.

Abraham Lincoln never “lost sixty golden minutes somewhere between sunrise and sunset.”

II

You all know the story of Benjamin Franklin--how he began life as a poor boy, and how by thrift, he became later in life one of the most useful and wealthy citizens of America.

Benjamin Franklin learned great wisdom through his experiences, and he was anxious that other people might learn the same lessons; so he printed an almanac and put into it many wise sayings, which he hoped would be remembered.

He called his almanac “Poor Richard’s Almanac.” Here are a few of its wise sayings:

“For age and want, save while you may;
No morning sun lasts all the day.”

“But dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is
the stuff life is made of.”

“A small leak will sink a ship.”

“Be ashamed to catch yourself idle.”

“Always taking out of a meal-tub and never putting in soon comes to
the bottom.”

“One to-day is worth two to-morrows.”

“Many a little makes a mickle.”

“Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; that is,
waste nothing.”

“No pains, no gains.”

QUESTIONS

Can you think of some ways in which you can save your clothing?

Have you ever tried forming a Thrift Club in your class to see what
and how much you can save?

What might you do with the money?

HOW RICHARD PLANTED A DOLLAR

I

When vacation time came, Richard went to visit his Uncle Dick on the farm.

He fed the chickens regularly, and he drove the cows and sheep to pasture. Indeed, he worked so hard and helped so much that his uncle promised to pay him.

So one day Uncle Dick handed him a silver dollar. Richard was delighted to think he had earned so much money. He put the dollar first into one pocket, then into another. This seemed to amuse Uncle Dick.

“What are you going to do with your money?” he asked.

“I don’t know exactly,” Richard replied. “What would you do with it, uncle?”

“I think that I should plant it,” said Uncle Dick.

“Plant it!” exclaimed Richard. “Why, will it grow?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Dick, “it will, if it is planted in the right place.”

Just then some one called him away, and he forgot about Richard and his dollar.

But Richard did not forget. The next morning bright and early, he was out digging in the garden.

“What are you going to plant?” asked Uncle Dick when he saw him.

“My dollar,” answered Richard, pulling the money proudly out of his pocket. Then seeing the smile in his uncle’s face he added, “You know you said it would grow, uncle, if I planted it in the right place. Isn’t this the right place?”

“Did you think I meant that pennies would grow on bushes?” said Uncle Dick. “I didn’t mean that, boy. I’m going to drive over to Bernardsville after breakfast. If you will go with me, I will show you the right place to plant a dollar to make it grow.”

Richard hurried with his breakfast because he was greatly excited by the thought of his ride.

As they drove toward the town, every now and then he put his hand in his pocket to see if his dollar was safe.

II

Finally, they reached Bernardsville, and Uncle Dick drew up before a large stone building. “This is a bank, a place where dollars grow,” he explained. “Come inside with me and, if you wish, we will plant your dollar.”

He led the way to a window over a high counter.

“How do you do, Mr. Cashier?” he said. “This young man is my nephew, and he wishes to plant a dollar so that it may start to grow. Will you please show him the right place to plant it?”

“Indeed I shall be glad to,” said the man behind the window. “If your nephew will hand me his dollar, I will plant it for him.”

Richard gravely pulled the money from his pocket and handed it through the window. The man gave him a card and asked him to write his name.

When Richard returned the card, Mr. Cashier took up a neat little book, wrote Richard’s name on the cover and made a note inside the book, which said that Richard had one dollar in the bank. Then he gave him the book, together with a pretty nickel home-safe, such as savings banks keep for children who save pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, and, sometimes, even dollars.

“This is a home-savings bank,” explained Mr. Cashier. “Your dollar which you handed through the window will grow in two ways. We will make it grow by paying you interest. You may make it grow by adding more money to it. You take this little nickel safe, and put your pennies and other money into it; when you come again to our bank, bring it with you. See, here is the key I shall use for unlocking it. I will add what is in it to the dollar you already have.”

“Don’t we get the key?” asked Richard in a whisper, as other people came up to the window, and he and his uncle passed on.

“No,” answered his uncle. “If we had it, we might be tempted to open the safe and use the money; then your dollar wouldn’t grow.”

“What did Mr. Cashier mean by saying, ‘we will make your money grow?’” asked Richard when they were once more driving toward home.

“He meant that the bank people will pay you three cents for every dollar you let them use for a year.”

“Isn’t that fine!” exclaimed Richard. Then he opened the box that held his pretty home-safe.

“The next time we take this to bank,” he said, “when I shake it, it will jingle.”

“I believe it will!” said Uncle Dick laughing; “and I believe it will make your first dollar grow big.”

And it did; for Richard worked hard and saved almost all of his money. When the cashier opened it with the key the next time Richard and Uncle Dick went to the bank, even he seemed surprised as he counted the money.

“Well, young man,” he said, “I see you know one way to plant a dollar and make it grow.”

HOW TO START A BANK ACCOUNT

I

EVERY BOY AND GIRL SHOULD HAVE A BANK ACCOUNT

The first dollar is the hardest to save, but not so hard as it seems.

If you save five cents a week you will have your first dollar in twenty weeks.

If you save ten cents a week you will have your first dollar in half the time, or in ten weeks.

If you are able to save twenty-five cents a week you will have your first dollar in one-fifth of the time, or in four weeks.

When you put this dollar in the savings bank you have started a bank account, which is something to be proud of.

If you save regularly it will not be long before you have another dollar to add to the one already in the bank.

Money is saved a little at a time.

A mile is walked one step at a time.

A house is built one brick at a time, one nail at a time.

If you save at the rate of five cents a week for a year, how much money will you have in the bank?

If at the rate of ten cents a week for a year, how much will you have?

If at the rate of twenty-five cents a week for a year, how much?

Money in the bank keeps on growing because the bank adds interest for the use of your money.

By and by, you will want a sum of money for some important thing. Then you will be glad that you have a bank account to help you.

Why not begin saving for it today?

II

INTEREST TABLES

These tables show how money grows when placed at simple interest.

AT THREE PER CENT

------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------ | $1 | $2 | $3 | $4 | $5 | $6 | $7 | $8 | $9 | $10 | $100 | $1000 ------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------ 1 year| .03 | .06 | .09 | .12 | .15 | .18 | .21 | .24 | .27 | .30 | 3.00 | 30.00 6 mos | .01 | .03 | .04 | .06 | .07 | .09 | .10 | .12 | .13 | .15 | 1.50 | 15.00 3 mos | .00 | .01 | .02 | .03 | .03 | .04 | .05 | .06 | .06 | .07 | .75 | 7.50 ------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------

AT FIVE PER CENT

------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------ | $1 | $2 | $3 | $4 | $5 | $6 | $7 | $8 | $9 | $10 | $100 | $1000 ------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------ 1 year| .05 | .10 | .15 | .20 | .25 | .30 | .35 | .40 | .45 | .50 | 5.00 | 50.00 6 mos.| .02 | .05 | .07 | .10 | .12 | .15 | .17 | .20 | .22 | .25 | 2.50 | 25.00 3 mos.| .01 | .02 | .03 | .05 | .06 | .07 | .08 | .10 | .11 | .12 | 1.25 | 12.50 ------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------

QUESTIONS

How much will $1.00 amount to in six months? In one year?

How much will $10.00 amount to in six months? In one year?

THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE

THE HARE (_talking to his neighbors_): Ho, ho, here comes that slow-poke, Mr. Tortoise! Look at him crawling along! Why, he doesn’t move faster than a snail! I will wish him good day. (_He goes toward the tortoise._) Good morning, Mr. Tortoise; you must be tired to travel so slowly!

THE TORTOISE: Good morning, neighbor. No, I am not tired, and I do move slowly; but if I keep on moving, I get where I am going.

THE HARE: Oh, you do, do you? Well, if I moved as slowly as you, I wouldn’t try to get to many places, I am sure.

THE TORTOISE: Oh, I don’t know about that. I guess if we started out for the same place, I would be there as soon as you.

THE HARE: What a joke! I’ll take that up! Will you race me to the river?

THE TORTOISE: I will.

THE HARE: Are you in earnest! Come on; you will soon see my feet fly when you race with me.

THE TORTOISE: Very well! I will start right away. (_He goes slowly on._)

THE HARE (_moving toward the neighbors_): Listen! Oh, such a joke! The tortoise is going to race with me to the river.

NEIGHBORS: Oh, what fun! Let us be the judges. We will run over to the river to mark a goal. (_They go._)

THE HARE (_yawning_): If it isn’t too funny to see the poor old tortoise jogging along. It will not take me ten minutes to get to the goal. I guess I will lie down and take a nap, for I am a little tired. (_He lies down, stretches himself out, and goes to sleep._)

THE TORTOISE (_moving slowly_): Slow--and--steady--slow--and--steady. One, two, three, four. It is hard work to race, but I will keep on trying. I will keep on trying--just a little way at a time. Just--a--little--at--a--time.

* * * * *

THE HARE (_waking up and looking about him_): Why, I must have overslept! Dear me, I don’t see the tortoise! Why, if that slow fellow should win the race, I should be the laughing-stock of all the neighbors. Maybe I should be written down in a fable! But pshaw! I shall overtake him just around the turn.

THE TORTOISE (_crossing the goal_): Slow--and--steady--slow--and--steady.

GROUP OF NEIGHBORS (_clapping their hands_): Slow and steady wins the race. You win, Mr. Perseverance.

THE HARE (_bounding over the goal just a minute too late_): Oh, if I had only kept on! If I only had not stopped for a nap! Did the tortoise win?

NEIGHBORS: Ha, ha, ha! just one minute too late! Mr. Tortoise wins!

(_The hare and the tortoise shake hands._)

THE HARE: You have taught me two lessons, Mr. Tortoise--never give up trying; and, don’t be too sure. I congratulate you upon winning the race.

THE TORTOISE: Thank you. Sometimes plodders do come out ahead.

NEIGHBORS: “Perseverance wins success.”

QUESTIONS

Why do you suppose the hare decided to take a little nap?

Was it easy for the tortoise to get to the goal?

Did you ever have something hard to do? Did you keep on until you
finished?

In your class there are some children like the slow and steady
tortoise, and some like the hare who think they can rest once in a
while.

Are you like either one?

AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW

I

Once upon a time there was a little girl, named Letty, who had a little crippled sister.

Letty loved her little sister very dearly and wished that she might be cured.

But her father and mother were so poor that they could not afford to send for the great doctor who could make their little girl well.

So, during the summer vacation Letty worked for a neighbor and saved all the money she earned. She hoped that if she kept every penny she would soon have enough to pay the doctor for curing her sister. But her little hoard grew very slowly, because, you see, she earned only fifteen cents a week.

One day there was a heavy thunder storm; and when the storm was over, a beautiful rainbow appeared in the sky. Letty stood on the neighbor’s porch and watched the rainbow.

“I wonder what is at the end of the rainbow,” she said to herself; but Mrs. Harrison--for that was the neighbor’s name--overheard her.

“Why,” she exclaimed, “don’t you know? There is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have always heard that. If anyone takes it away, another pot of gold comes in its place. But no one is permitted to take more than one pot of gold.”

Letty said nothing, but she began to think very hard. “If I could find that pot of gold,” she thought, “I could use it to have my little sister cured.”

And then and there Letty decided to do a very daring thing. So, early the next morning, just as soon as she could see, she got out of bed and went noiselessly downstairs. She packed a lunch and started out to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

She remembered quite well where the rainbow had seemed to end--in the forest half way up the distant mountain. In the bright morning sunlight, it appeared to be much nearer than it really was. She was sure she could find the way.

After she had walked a long time, however, she came to a place that she had never seen before.

It was a swampy, marshy meadow; and her feet sank deep into the miry mud as she splashed along.

“Oh, dear!” she thought. “I almost wish I hadn’t come! I shall have to turn back!”

II

Then suddenly, she thought of the little lame sister who could not run and play.

“I will go on,” Letty said; “I must!”

Just then, she saw in front of her a grassy little island, or hummock, quite large enough for her two feet. She managed to step on it; and--what do you think? She saw before her a whole row of hummocks all the way across the meadow!

“How nice that will be for any one else who looks for the end of the rainbow,” thought little Letty, as she sat down on the last hummock to rest.

The next minute, she heard a loud Hiss-s-s!

What do you suppose made that noise? Yes, a big black snake.

My, but Letty was afraid of snakes!

There it lay, all coiled up, not five feet from her.

“Oh, dear!” she thought, shuddering. “Oh, I must run back! I cannot go on! Snakes are too dreadful!”

Then again she thought of her little sister.

“I must go on!” she whispered. “I cannot go back! I will run on with all my might.”

So she ran on with all her might; and what do you think happened?

When she turned around to see if she was far enough away from the snake, she saw, instead of the big black snake, a little curly-haired dog where the snake had been!

He bounded up to her and barked Boof! Boof! in the friendliest kind of way.

“Dear little doggy!” exclaimed Letty, patting his head. “How do you do? I believe you must be hungry! So am I. Let us eat breakfast.”

Boof! Boof! barked the little dog, as much as to say, “Thank you!”

“I haven’t very much,” said Letty, “but I will give you part of what I have. We must save some for our supper, you know.”

III

They enjoyed their breakfast and started on again much refreshed.

Pretty soon they came to a place filled with thorny brambles. The brambles tore Letty’s stockings and they scratched her legs and arms, and they hurt her so very much that at last it seemed as though she could go no farther.

“Oh, doggy,” she said with tears in her eyes, “I do believe we shall have to go back!”

But once more came the thought of her little lame sister.

“We must go on!” she exclaimed. “I know what I can try! I will try to cut the briers with the knife in our lunch box.”

And what do you think happened then? The little dog ran ahead, and the brambles opened into a pathway before them. When Letty looked back, she saw that they did not close again.

“I am so glad,” she thought, “for it will be easy for other people who try to find the end of the rainbow, and it will be easy for us to come back, too.”

After a while Letty and the little dog came to a deep dark river.

“Now,” sobbed Letty, “now, I am afraid we shall have to give up! Oh, dear! Must I go back without the pot of gold for my poor little sister?”

Then she saw a log near the water’s edge.

“Oh, I know what I can do!” she whispered. “I can roll the log into the water and paddle my way across with my feet! Little doggy can swim across.”

So she rolled the log into the water and sat upon it; and what do you think happened?

The little dog caught a branch of the log in his mouth and towed her safely to the other side!

And when she looked back, what else do you think had happened?

There was a narrow bridge across the river!

After Letty and the little dog had rested a while, they went on their way once more.

It was getting quite dark in the forest, and a heavy storm was gathering.

“Oh, little doggy, it is getting late,” said Letty; “and it is going to rain. We must find shelter.”

IV

Boof! barked the little dog, and ran to the mouth of a cave near by.

Letty was afraid to enter.

“It might be the den of a wolf!” she thought. “I wish I could see inside!”

“Come, little doggy,” she said, “let’s look in.” They peered into the darkness and, suddenly, everything seemed light; for the little dog’s eyes were so bright that they made the cave as light as a lamp would.

Letty had no sooner lain down on a pile of dry leaves in the corner of the cave than she heard the growl of a wild animal.

My, she was frightened! She and the little dog ran to the mouth of the cave, and they saw a big wolf not ten feet away.

And what do you think happened that time?

As soon as the little dog looked into the wolf’s eyes with his own bright shining eyes the wolf was so scared that he ran away as fast as he could scamper.

Then Letty and the little dog ate their supper and went to sleep.

Letty was dreaming of how lovely it would be to have her little sister play with her like other children, when she was awakened by a sweet voice. “Little Letty,” it said, “you have found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!”

Letty sat up. There before her stood a beautiful lady.

“The pot of gold is in your own loving heart, dear child,” said the lady. “I am the Lady of Golden Deeds. I have watched you all the way of your journey, for I feared that you might stop trying; but when I saw how you persevered, I went to your home and cured your little sister.”

Can you imagine how happy that made Letty?

At first she could scarcely speak, but after a moment, “Oh, thank you! thank you!” she cried. “I want to go to her right away!”

“That you shall,” said the lady. “Just sit on the back of your little dog and he will take you in five minutes.”

Then she lifted Letty on the back of the little dog, who trotted and skipped out of the cave, through the woods, over the bridge, through the bramble patch, over the hummocks, and up the roadway to Letty’s home. And there Letty saw her little sister skipping toward them! Jumping off the little dog’s back, she ran to meet her.

“Where have you been?” cried her little sister, hugging and kissing her. “The most wonderful thing has happened! See, I can run and jump!”

“I know!” said Letty, laughing. “I know all about it, dear little sister. I’ve just come from the end of the rainbow!”

QUESTIONS

Little Letty had to be pretty brave to start out alone to find the
end of the rainbow, didn’t she?

Do you remember how many times she was discouraged?

Each trouble seemed harder than the last, didn’t it?

How many people were helped because she didn’t give up?

Can you remember some time when you had to try and try again?

Did you succeed at last? Tell about it.

MEMORY GEMS

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
--_Longfellow._

* * * * *

“I would if I could,” though much it’s in use,
Is but a mistaken and sluggish excuse;
And many a person who could if he would,
Is often heard saying, “I would if I could.”
--_Selected._

* * * * *

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

He has not learned the lesson of life who does not every day
surmount a fear.--_Emerson._

THE CROW AND THE PITCHER

A crow who with thirst was ’most ready to die,
Looking upward in vain for clouds in the sky,
In the road spied a pitcher. Said he, “Well, I think
Perhaps in that jug is a very nice drink.”

And there was; but he found the water so low
His bill wouldn’t reach, though he stood on tip-toe;
After stooping and straining and trying in vain,
He stopped to consider the matter again.

“Surely,” said he, “it is better by far
To try my best to turn over that jar
Than to stand here in torture just dying of thirst--
If I don’t get a drink I am sure I shall burst!”

His strength insufficient he found it, of course,
To turn the jar over by using his force.
Then wise Mr. Crow sat him down for to think;
“I’ll _have_ to do something to get me a drink!”

He suddenly started, exclaiming, “How queer
It took me so long--the solution’s quite clear!”
Then wise Mr. Crow, in the jar, one by one,
Dropped stone after stone lying there in the sun.

Slowly the water rose brimmingly high,
And Mr. Crow drank till the pitcher was dry;
Then preening himself, before going to sleep,
He thought out some things which are surely quite deep.

Said wise Mr. Crow, “Truly never Intention,
But Need is the mother of every invention--
And now I have lived to tell the queer tale,
_Perseverance_ will win where force often will fail.”

MEMORY GEMS

Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising
every time we fall.--_Emerson._

My son, observe the postage stamp! Its usefulness depends upon its
ability to stick to one thing until it gets there.--_Josh Billings._

My idea is this: ever onward. If God had intended that man should
go backward, he would have given him an eye in the back of his
head.--_Victor Hugo._

Diving and finding no pearls in the sea,
Blame not the ocean: the fault is in thee.
--_Alice Cary._

DRIVE THE NAIL ARIGHT

Drive the nail aright, boys;
Hit it on the head;
Strike with all your might, boys,
Ere the time has fled.

Lessons you’ve to learn, boys;
Study with a will:
They who reach the top, boys,
First must climb the hill.

Standing at the foot, boys,
Gazing at the sky;
How can you get up, boys,
If you never try?

Though you stumble oft, boys,
Never be downcast;
Try and try again, boys:
You’ll succeed at last.

Always persevere, boys,
Though your task is hard;
Toil and happy trust, boys,
Bring their own reward.

Never give it up, boys,
Always say you’ll try;
You will gain the top, boys,
Surely, by and by.
--_Selected._

STORIES TEACHING KINDNESS TO ANIMALS

_Of all the beasts he learned, the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene’er he met them,
Called them “Hiawatha’s Brothers.”_
--LONGFELLOW.

THE STORY OF AN ARABIAN HORSE

There lived once in Arabia a horse so noted for its great beauty that its fame spread throughout the country.

When the ruler of the country heard of this wonderful creature, he was filled with a desire to possess him; so he sent for Hamidu, the owner of the horse.

“I am told that you have the most beautiful horse in all Arabia,” he said to Hamidu. “It is only fitting that he should belong to the ruler of this country, which is the home of the most perfect horses in all the world.”

Poor Hamidu cast himself at the ruler’s feet and spoke in trembling tones.

“Great ruler,” he implored, “spare my horse to me. I love him better than my life. I raised him from a baby. Never a day has passed since he was born that I have not caressed him. He follows me about as would a dog. At night I sleep beside him. He would grieve so that he would die if we were separated; and so would Hamidu.”

This speech angered the ruler greatly, and calling some of his soldiers, he ordered them to go with Hamidu to his home and return with the horse to the palace.

It was a two days’ journey to Hamidu’s home. When the horse saw his master coming, he broke his halter and ran to meet him with every sign of deep affection.

The ruler’s soldiers admired the horse greatly, and bade Hamidu mount him and ride back to the palace with them.

When they stopped for the night they bound Hamidu, hands and feet, and laid him down on a hillock.

The horse they fastened securely to a tree. Then going to a spot a short distance away, they lay down to sleep.

Hamidu lay still and helpless, watching the bright stars as they blinked and twinkled overhead. He tried to loose the bonds that held his hands, but they were too strong for him.

“Alas,” he thought, “not only shall I lose my beloved horse but also my life, I fear.”

He could hear the heavy breathing of the sleeping soldiers. Everything else was quiet.

Suddenly, his ear caught the sound of gentle footsteps.

“I could almost believe it to be my beloved Beauty,” he thought, “if that were not impossible.”

But it was Beauty, whose soft nose came feeling over Hamidu! and it was Beauty’s teeth which grasped his girdle and lifted him from the ground.

Swift as a deer, the horse bore Hamidu on and on back to his home.

There a friend loosed his bonds and gave him and the horse food and drink.

Then Hamidu mounted Beauty and rode away, away, away into the distant hills of another country. And never did the ruler’s men find either Hamidu or the horse that gnawed loose his own fetters and saved his master’s life.

QUESTIONS

Have you ever seen a picture of an Arabian horse?

Are they large?

Why did the horse love his master so much?

THE DOG WHO SAVED THE LIVES OF FORTY PERSONS AND WAS KILLED
BY THE FORTY-FIRST]

THE STORY OF BARRY

The Great St. Bernard is a famous mountain pass which crosses over the Alps from Switzerland into Italy.

Away up on the highest point of the pass there stands a lonely dwelling place. It is the hospice of St. Bernard.

A hospice, you must know, is a refuge for travelers on some difficult road.

The hospice of St. Bernard is kept by a company of monks, who live the year round shut in by lofty mountains covered with snow.

In the winter season the good monks lead a very busy life, for then it is that they go forth to seek and rescue travelers who have lost their way in the terrible mountain snow storms.

Every year many lives are saved through their efforts.

I said that many lives are saved through the efforts of the good monks, but they would tell you that but few lives would be saved were it not for the help of their great noble dogs.

These dogs are specially trained to accompany the monks, or are sent out alone to search for people in danger.

You have heard of St. Bernard dogs, haven’t you?

Barry was one of these dogs--a big, intelligent St. Bernard. He was so big and so intelligent that he was often sent out alone on some errand of mercy. Up to the time of this story Barry had saved forty lives.

One day, in a blinding snow storm, two travelers, who had lost their way, were struggling to reach the hospice.

It was frightfully cold, and their strength was almost spent. At length, one of the men took out his brandy flask.

The other, knowing the great risk his companion ran, begged him not to drink, and urged him to put forth one more effort.

But the man would not listen. He continued to drink heavily and soon fell exhausted in the snow.

His friend struggled on, and at last reached the hospice, where he told the story of his lost fellow traveler.

At once the monks called Barry and sent him forth to find the man.

Through the heavy storm the great dog made his way to where the traveler lay unconscious in the snow.

Barry pulled and pushed and tugged, and at last aroused him from his drunken stupor.

The man, dazed by cold and drink, thought that a wild beast had fallen upon him.

With his little remaining strength, he drew his knife from his pocket and plunged it into Barry’s neck.

But the faithful dog, undaunted, kept at his task. Too late, the traveler realized that he had been found by one of the St. Bernard dogs which had been sent to rescue him.

He struggled to his feet. Half leaning on the dog, whose blood stained every step of the way, he reached the door of the hospice.

On its threshold Barry fell exhausted. He had given his life in fidelity to the trust reposed in him.

* * * * *

Barry’s beautiful body was buried in a large cemetery in Paris; and over it was placed a handsome monument. On the monument, in French, are these words:

“He saved the lives of forty persons; he was killed by the forty-first.”

QUESTIONS

Did you ever stop to think that in the great animal kingdom, with
its thousands of creatures, just one, the dog, has left its kind
and attached itself to man?

More than that, have you realized that the dog has accepted man as
a master, a being to serve, to love, to caress, to suffer for, and,
if need be, to perish for?

So whether this dog of yours is big or little, fat or lean; whether
he looks like a majestic lion, or has a pug nose and curly tail--be
kind to him--be just to him, and to every other dog.

Doesn’t a dog when he buries his bone against a rainy day show more
intelligence than some people?

Did you ever think that a dog’s life is what his master makes it?

Do you realize that many other dogs would be just as noble and
brave as Barry, if they were trained, or had a chance to show their
bravery?

BANDS OF MERCY

“I will try to be kind to all living creatures, and will try to protect them from cruel usage.”

This is the simple pledge taken by the more than three million members of the many Bands of Mercy in the United States.

The object of the Band of Mercy is to awaken in the hearts of children a feeling of kindness toward everything that lives.

The members promise to do all they can to relieve the suffering around them, and to speak for the dumb animals that cannot speak for themselves.

There are no dues. The members choose their own name and elect their own officers.[A]

Mr. George T. Angell, who was a great lover of animals, formed the first American Bands of Mercy in 1882. Mr. Angell lived to be eighty-six years old, and spent almost the whole of his long life in working for the kind treatment of every living creature.

SOME THINGS THAT MR. ANGELL TOLD BOYS AND GIRLS

Well, the fact is that horses and dogs do not have any money. They are poorer than the poorest boy or girl here today. No matter how hard they work, they cannot buy an apple or a stick of candy, or even a lump of sugar; and so, because they have no money, I have been in the habit for a good many years of talking for them.

Ever since I was a boy, I have been very fond of dumb animals. As a lad, I hardly ever went by a kind, good-looking horse or dog without stopping to have a talk with him.

Boys who are taught to feed birds, and to pat the horses, and to speak kindly to all lower creatures become a good deal better fellows.

One English school makes its boast that out of the seven thousand boys whom it has sent out, all carefully taught to be kind to animals, not one has ever been proved guilty of any crime. Through an inquiry made a few years ago, it was found that only twelve out of two thousand convicts in our prisons had ever had a pet animal in their childhood.

Daniel Webster, the great American statesman, loved cattle. When at Marshfield, knowing that he was about to die, he requested that all his cattle should be driven to his window that he might see them for the last time; and as they came past his window one by one he called each by name.

Walter von der Vogelweide, a great lyric poet of the Middle Ages, so loved birds that he gave by his will a large sum of money to the monks of Wurzburg, on condition that they should feed the birds every day on the tombstone over his grave.

And so with our modern great men. We find President Lincoln protecting the little wild birds and their nests. We find President Garfield taking a poor half-starved, half-frozen dog from the streets of Washington to his comfortable home.

General Porter says that he never saw General Grant really angry but twice in his life--and one of those times was when he saw an army teamster beating a poor horse. He ordered the teamster to be tied up and severely punished.

The great Duke of Wellington, who won the battle of Waterloo, was so kind to the lower creatures that he ordered that special protection be given a toad in his garden.

It may be worth a thousand dollars to you some day, if you remember what I am now going to tell you.

It is this: if the time ever comes when you feel as though you hadn’t a friend in the world and wish that you were dead, go and get some pet that you can talk to and love and care for--if it is only a little bird. You will be astonished to find the relief and happiness it will bring into your life.

--_George T. Angell--Adapted._

* * * * *

Blessed are the merciful:
For they shall obtain mercy.--_Bible._

NELLIE’S DOG

I

He was a lonely looking little beggar with a wistful look in his eyes. Shaggy-haired, with a limp in one leg, and the scars of many stones on his small body, he was a miserable looking dog as he trotted down the dusty road. His tongue lolled out and his sides heaved from panting.

But his rough looks hid a heart of gold. Any one could see that by looking into his eyes, which were pleading and trustful.

But no one looked into his eyes; they looked only at his shaggy coat and rough appearance, then shouted and threw stones and clubs at him. The stones hurt cruelly, and it was a club that put the limp in his leg, for he was a stray dog and unwelcome everywhere.

He was hungry for some one to love, to live for. His eyes told that every time he met a stranger, or when, with drooping tail and with fawning side-steps, he presented himself at some new farmhouse.

But rebuffs and kicks had brought a faint light of distrust and caution to his eyes, and he began to crawl into the weeds along the roadside when he saw any one approaching; and when he came to a farmhouse he would stop at the gate, ready to run at the first hostile move.

Sometimes people set well-fed home dogs on him. When these were his size, or smaller, he would back away with teeth half-bared defensively. He made no move to fight. It was not in his nature to fight unless he had some one to defend. When the dogs were larger than himself, he would run as well as the limp in his leg would allow.

Twice he had been overtaken by dogs--huge, fierce fellows that mauled him without mercy, while their owners encouraged them. But always they had allowed the little dog to go with his life. Even dogs have codes of honor.

It was just at sunset one evening when he limped into the yard where little Nellie was playing. He gazed into her eyes with a pleading, homesick look, and she smiled. Then she threw her arms around his neck and caressed him tenderly. He fawned on her in a very ecstasy of joy, and his scarred, thin little body wagged from end to end. And so the pact was sealed. He was Nellie’s dog and she was his mistress.

There was just a trace of Airedale blood in his veins, and an Airedale dog always selects some one person as the idol of his undying love and faithfulness. Nellie was to him the one person in the world.

II

Nellie’s father was a big man, and abrupt. He became excited when he saw her playing with the little dog, and dragged her away. He declared that she might have been bitten by the cur.

In spite of the little girl’s protests, he kicked the dog from the yard and stoned him, sending him, a whimpering, heart-broken little piece of misery, limping down the road.

Nellie cried and declared that she had always wanted a doggy and that no doggy but the little stray dog would do. But her father was firm; he would have no stray dogs about the place; there was no telling what the dog was, or had been--he might be dangerous; for the father had not looked into the little dog’s eyes as had Nellie.

One day Nellie was taken sick. A raging fever colored her face and sent her pulses bounding. For many anxious hours her tearful father watched by her bedside. Then Nellie began calling for her “doggy.”

The doctor, who was already grave, became graver. He told the father that if Nellie’s doggy was not found he feared that she might not get better.

A great pain came to the father’s heart, and his face twitched in misery. He would have given all he possessed to have back the little stray cur to save her--the little dog that he had stoned and sent whimpering down the road.

Evening came. The doctor, who had been holding little Nellie’s wrist in his hand, laid it very gently on the bed, a misty look in his eyes.

Suddenly he turned toward the door. There, just within the threshold, with drooping tail and a loving, pleading look fastened on the little figure in the bed, stood a stray dog.

The doctor looked into the little dog’s eyes, and understood. He knew it was Nellie’s doggy. Swiftly he caught the dog up in his arms and placed him on the bed.

With a glad cry little Nellie half-raised herself from her pillow, as her hands found the dog’s shaggy hair and felt the warm touch of his tongue. Then she lay back on her pillow, a new color in her cheeks and a new light in her eyes. She breathed easily and sighed contentedly. The doctor smiled tenderly and her father cried tears of joy.

The little dog curled himself against Nellie and licked her hand lovingly, for of all the people in the world she alone was his mistress, and neither kicks nor stones could keep him away.

--_Robert E. Hewes._

* * * * *

There is joy in caring
For helpless little things.

WHO SAID RATS?

If every rat costs the public one dollar per year, what do you suppose a kitten is worth?

Cats are nature’s destroyers of rats. Rats devour much good food and carry dreadful diseases.

No trap or poison bait can do pussy’s work, because rats are very wise and cunning, and after a few are caught they avoid coming near a trap. As for poisons, it isn’t very pleasant to have a poisoned rat die in or near a house.

Rats have very large families and become great-grandfathers in a short time; so you see the cats have plenty of work.

It is foolish to think, though, that cats can live upon mice and rats. They need other food, and the better fed cats are generally the best “mousers.”

Cats are kept in large postoffices to protect the mail from the rats and mice. They are so valuable for this purpose that Uncle Sam sets money aside to be used in feeding them.

In a large city in China there is a law which says that in every house one or more cats must be kept; for there the rats carry a dreadful disease or plague, and the cats kill the rats.

--_H. H. Jacobs._

* * * * *

The idea that cats should be poorly fed, in order that they may be good mousers and ratters, is a very cruel and ignorant one. A cat catches rats and mice because instinct tells him to do so, and he will do his work better if strong and well fed.

--_Mary Craige Yarrow._

A BRAVE MOTHER

At the burning of an apartment house in Kansas City, early one morning, the firemen and onlookers were astonished to see a cat leap in at the door, though she must pass through fire and water to enter.

Some one called out, “Look at that cat--she must have gone crazy.”

While they watched she returned, bringing a kitten held up as high as she could lift it by throwing back her head.

She hurried through the crowd, and after a few moments again appeared, and dashed once more into the flames. Soon the brave creature came back with another kitten in her mouth. By this time the people were watching to see what she would do next, for she was giving a wonderful exhibition of mother love.

When she tried to enter once more there were many cries of “Stop her--don’t let her go in--it’s sure death!” But she would not be stopped; she slipped through the crowd and went in again.

The firemen turned their attention now almost wholly to the part of the building where she was; but the walls fell, and the noble little self-forgetting mother was buried beneath them.

A search was made for her kittens; they were found in a place of safety. There were four of them.

The janitor of the building remembered that there had been five. How well the mother cat knew the number! and how bravely she had saved them--all but one! Do you suppose she was with it, to cover it and guard it to the last moment?

The motherless kittens were taken to the central fire station and tenderly cared for. The firemen had been very eager to own an Angora kitten; but when one was offered to them, they decided not to take it.

“It might put these little chaps out if we brought in another cat,” they said; “and we feel that we ought to take care of them--for their mother’s sake, you know.”

The little mother had been lifted up to a place of honor with these men, who knew so well how to value true courage.

--_H. H. Jacobs._

* * * * *

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
--_Shakespeare._

QUESTIONS

Is the cat ever a brave animal?

Do animals know when people are kind? How can you be kind to cats?

Have cats any value?

How does it help birds for you to feed cats?

If you cannot find a home for a stray cat, what should you do?

Do you know where the S. P. C. A. office is?

If you were a cat would you like to be left to starve when the
family moved away?

How do you suppose a mother who loses all her children feels?

How do you suppose a mother dog who loses all her puppies feels? A
mother cat who loses all her kittens?

Wouldn’t it be better to keep one?

* * * * *