Chapter I: Front Matter (1)

THE CHILD'S WORLD

THIRD READER

BY

HETTY S. BROWNE Extension worker in rural school practice Winthrop Normal and Industrial College Rock Hill, S.C.

SARAH WITHERS Principal Elementary Grades and Critic Teacher Winthrop Normal and Industrial College

AND

W.K. TATE Professor of Rural Education George Peabody College for Teachers Nashville, Tenn.

JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY Richmond, Virginia

TEACHERS' AIDS

Success with the Child's World Readers is in no wise dependent on the use of the chart, manual, or cards.

Modern teachers of reading, however, recognize the saving of time and effort to be accomplished for both their pupils and themselves by the use of cards, chart, and manual, and look to the publisher to provide these accessories in convenient form and at moderate cost.

The following aids are therefore offered in the belief that they will make the work of the teacher, trained or untrained, more effective.

Child's World Reader Charts......................$6.00
(10 beautiful charts in colors 27x37--20 lessons)

Child's World Manual.............................75c
(Suggestions and outlines for first 5 grades)

Child's World Word Cards........................$1.00
(129 cards--258 words in Primer vocabulary)

Child's World Phrase Cards........................75c
(48 cards--96 phrases)

Child's World Phonic Cards...................80c
(80 cards printed both sides)

JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY

Richmond, Virginia.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

For permission to use copyrighted material the authors and publishers express their indebtedness to _The Independent_ for "Who Loves the Trees Best?" by Alice M. Douglas; to Oliver Herford and the Century Company for "The Elf and the Dormouse"; to the American Folklore Society for "How Brother Rabbit Fooled the Whale and the Elephant," by Alcee Fortier; to the _Outlook_ for "Making the Best of It," by Frances M. Fox, and "Winter Nights," by Mary F. Butts; to Harper Brothers for "The Animals and the Mirror," from _Told by the Sand Man_; to Rand McNally & Company for "Little Hope's Doll," from _Stories of the Pilgrims_, by Margaret Pumphrey; to Daughady & Company for "Squeaky and the Scare Box," from _Christmas Stories_, by Georgene Faulkner; to D.C. Heath & Company for "The Little Cook's Reward," from _Stories of the Old North State_, by Mrs. L.A. McCorkle; to Charles Scribner's Sons for "A Good Play" and "Block City," by Robert Louis Stevenson, "The Glad New Year," from _Rhymes and Jingles_, by Mary Mapes Dodge, "A Christmas Wish" and "Rock-a-by-Lady," by Eugene Field; to Houghton Mifflin Company for permission to adapt selections from _Hiawatha_; to Doubleday, Page & Company for "The Sand Man," by Margaret Vandergrift, from _The Posy Ring_--Wiggin and Smith; to James A. Honey for "The Monkey's Fiddle," from _South African Tales_; to Maud Barnard for "Donal and Conal"; to Maud Barnard and Emilie Yonker for their versions of Epaminondas.

Supplementary Historical Reading

Life of General Robert E. Lee _For Third and Fourth Grades_

Life of General Thomas J. Jackson _For Third and Fourth Grades_

Life of Washington _For Fourth and Fifth Grades_

Life of General N.B. Forrest _For Fifth Grade_

Life of General J.E.B. Stuart _For Fifth and Sixth Grades_

Soldier Life in the Army of Northern Virginia _For Fifth Grade_

Tennessee History Stories _For Third and Fourth Grades_

North Carolina History Stories _For Fourth and Fifth Grades_

Texas History Stories _For Fifth and Sixth Grades_

Half-Hours in Southern History _For Sixth and Seventh Grades_

The Yemassee (_Complete Edition_) _For Seventh and Eighth Grades_

(Ask for catalog containing list of other supplementary reading)

JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY RICHMOND, VA.

CONTENTS

PHILEMON AND BAUCIS, _Flora J. Cooke_, 9

THE POPLAR TREE, _Flora J. Cooke_, 15

WHO LOVES THE TREES BEST?, _Alice May Douglas_, 18

LEAVES IN AUTUMN, 19

A STORY OF BIRD LIFE, _Henry Ward Beecher_, 20

BOB WHITE, _George Cooper_, 25

HOW MARY GOT A NEW DRESS, 26

THE PLAID DRESS, 30

THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM, 34

THE FLAX, _Hans Christian Andersen_, 37

THE WONDERFUL WORLD, _William Brighty Rands_, 41

THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE, _Juliana H. Ewing_, 42

THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE, _Oliver Herford_, 46

THE BELL OF ATRI, _Italian Tale_, 48

A DUMB WITNESS, _Arabian Tale_, 53

GIVING THANKS, 56

THE HARE AND THE HEDGEHOG, _Grimm_, 58

EPAMINONDAS, _Southern Tale_, 67

HOW BROTHER RABBIT FOOLED THE WHALE AND THE ELEPHANT, _Southern Folk Tale_, 73

A CHRISTMAS WISH, _Eugene Field_, 79

THE CHRISTMAS BELLS, _Old Tale Retold_, 82

GOD BLESS THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE, _Old English Rime_, 89

SQUEAKY AND THE SCARE BOX, _Georgene Faulkner_, 90

THE GLAD NEW YEAR, _Mary Mapes Dodge_, 99

MAKING THE BEST OF IT, _Frances M. Fox_, 100

THE ANIMALS AND THE MIRROR, _F.A. Walker_, 106

THE BARBER OF BAGDAD, _Eastern Tale_, 115

WINTER NIGHTS, _Mary F. Butts_, 122

LITTLE HOPE'S DOLL, _Margaret Pumphrey_, 123

NAHUM PRINCE, 130

THE LITTLE COOK'S REWARD, _Mrs. L.A. McCorkle_, 134

ROCK-A-BY, HUSH-A-BY, LITTLE PAPOOSE, _Charles Myall_, 139

THE TAR WOLF, _The Indian Tar-Baby Story_, 140

THE RABBIT AND THE WOLF, _Southern Indian Tale_, 149

BLOCK CITY, _Robert Louis Stevenson_, 154

A GOOD PLAY, _Robert Louis Stevenson_, 155

THE MONKEY'S FIDDLE, _African Tale_, 156

THE THREE TASKS, _Grimm_, 163

THE WORLD'S MUSIC, _Gabriel Setoun_, 170

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY, _Grimm_, 172

THE UGLY DUCKLING, _Hans Christian Andersen_, 181

THE WHITE BLACKBIRD, _Adapted from Alfred de Musset_, 192

THE BROWN THRUSH, _Lucy Larcom_, 199

THE KING AND THE GOOSEHERD, _Old Tale_, 200

DONAL AND CONAL, _Irish Tale_, 206

WHO TOLD THE NEWS?, 212

THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH, _Adapted from Longfellow_, 213

THE TRAILING ARBUTUS, _Indian Legend_, 218

HIDDEN TREASURE, _Grimm_, 223

THE LITTLE BROWN BROTHER, _Emily Nesbit_, 228

HOW THE FLOWERS GROW, _Gabriel Setoun_, 229

WISE MEN OF GOTHAM, _Old English Story_, 230

THE MILLER'S GUEST, _English Ballad (adapted)_, 233

SADDLE TO RAGS, _English Ballad (adapted)_, 239

THE ROCK-A-BY LADY, _Eugene Field_, 244

THE SAND MAN, _Margaret Vandergrift_, 246

A DICTIONARY, 249

SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS, 253

Oh, for a nook and a story-book,
With tales both new and old;
For a jolly good book whereon to look
Is better to me than gold.

--OLD ENGLISH SONG.

PHILEMON AND BAUCIS

I

Long ago, on a high hill in Greece, Philemon and Baucis lived.

They were poor, but they were never unhappy. They had many hives of bees from which they got honey, and many vines from which they gathered grapes. One old cow gave them all the milk that they could use, and they had a little field in which grain was raised.

The old couple had as much as they needed, and were always ready to share whatever they had with any one in want. No stranger was ever turned from their door.

At the foot of the hill lay a beautiful village, with pleasant roads and rich pasture lands all around. But it was full of wicked, selfish, people, who had no love in their hearts and thought only of themselves.

At the time of this story, the people in the village were very busy. Zeus, who they believed ruled the world, had sent word that he was about to visit them. They were preparing a great feast and making everything beautiful for his coming.

One evening, just at dark, two beggars came into the valley. They stopped at every house and asked for food and a place to sleep; but the people were too busy or too tired to attend to their needs. They were thinking only of the coming of Zeus.

Footsore and weary, the two beggars at last climbed the hill to the hut of Philemon and Baucis. These good people had eaten very little, for they were saving their best food for Zeus.

When they saw the beggars, Philemon said, "Surely these men need food more than Zeus. They look almost starved."

"Indeed, they do!" said Baucis, and she ran quickly to prepare supper for the strangers.

She spread her best white cloth upon the table, and brought out bacon, herbs, honey, grapes, bread, and milk. She set these upon the table in all the best dishes she had and called the strangers in.

Then what do you suppose happened? The dishes that the strangers touched turned to gold. The pitcher was never empty, although they drank glass after glass of milk. The loaf of bread stayed always the same size, although the strangers cut slice after slice.

"These are strange travelers," whispered the old couple to each other. "They do wonderful things."

II

That night Philemon and Baucis slept upon the floor that the strangers might have their one bed. In the morning they went with the travelers to the foot of the hill to see them safely started on their way.

"Now, good people," said one of the strangers, "we thank you, and whatever you wish shall be yours."

As he said this, his face became like that of the sun. Then Philemon and Baucis knew that Zeus had spoken to them.

"Grant, O Zeus, that one of us may not outlive the other," they cried in one voice.

"Your wish is granted," said Zeus; "yes, and more. Return to your home and be happy."

Philemon and Baucis turned homeward, and, lo! their hut was changed to a beautiful castle.

The old people turned around to thank their guests, but they had disappeared.

In this castle Philemon and Baucis lived many years. They still did all they could for others, and were always so happy that they never thought of wishing anything for themselves.

As the years passed, the couple grew very old and feeble. One day Baucis said to Philemon, "I wish we might never die, but could always live together."

"Ah, that is my wish, too!" sighed old Philemon.

The next morning the marble palace was gone; Baucis and Philemon were gone; but there on the hilltop stood two beautiful trees, an oak and a linden.

No one knew what became of the good people. After many years, however, a traveler lying under the trees heard them whispering to each other.

"Baucis," whispered the oak.

"Philemon," replied the linden.

There the trees stood through sun and rain, always ready to spread their leafy shade over every tired stranger who passed that way.

--FLORA J. COOKE.

THE POPLAR TREE

Long ago the poplar used to hold out its branches like other trees. It tried to see how far it could spread them.

Once at sunset an old man came through the forest where the poplar trees lived. The trees were going to sleep, and it was growing dark.

The man held something under his cloak. It was a pot of gold--the very pot of gold that lies at the foot of the rainbow. He had stolen it and was looking for some place to hide it. A poplar tree stood by the path.

"This is the very place to hide my treasure," the man said. "The branches spread out straight, and the leaves are large and thick. How lucky that the trees are all asleep!"

He placed the pot of gold in the thick branches, and then ran quickly away.

The gold belonged to Iris, the beautiful maiden who had a rainbow bridge to the earth. The next morning she missed her precious pot. It always lay at the foot of the rainbow, but it was not there now.

Iris hurried away to tell her father, the great Zeus, of her loss. He said that he would find the pot of gold for her.

He called a messenger, the swift-footed Mercury, and said, "Go quickly, and do not return until you have found the treasure."

Mercury went as fast as the wind down to the earth. He soon came to the forest and awakened the trees.

"Iris has lost her precious pot of gold that lies at the foot of the rainbow. Have any of you seen it?" he asked.

The trees were very sleepy, but all shook their heads.

"We have not seen it," they said.

"Hold up your branches," said Mercury. "I must see that the pot of gold is not hidden among them."

All of the trees held up their branches. The poplar that stood by the path was the first to hold up his. He was an honest tree and knew he had nothing to hide.

Down fell the pot of gold. How surprised the poplar tree was! He dropped his branches in shame. Then he held them high in the air.

"Forgive me," he said. "I do not know how it came to be there; but, hereafter, I shall always hold my branches up. Then every one can see that I have nothing hidden."

Since then the branches have always grown straight up; and every one knows that the poplar is an honest and upright tree.

--FLORA J. COOKE.

WHO LOVES THE TREES BEST?

Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Spring;
"Their leaves so beautiful
To them I bring."

Who loves the trees best?
"I," Summer said;
"I give them blossoms,
White, yellow, red."

Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Fall;
"I give luscious fruits,
Bright tints to all."

Who loves the trees best?
"I love them best,"
Harsh Winter answered;
"I give them rest."

--ALICE MAY DOUGLAS.

LEAVES IN AUTUMN

Red and gold, and gold and red,
Autumn leaves burned overhead;
Hues so splendid
Softly blended,
Oh, the glory that they shed!
Red and gold, and gold and red.

Gold and brown, and brown and gold,
Of such fun the west wind told
That they listened,
And they glistened,
As they wrestled in the cold;
Gold and brown, and brown and gold.

Brown and gold, and red and brown,
How they hurried, scurried down
For a frolic,
For a rolic,
Through the country and the town,
Brown and gold, and red and brown.

A STORY OF BIRD LIFE

I

Once there came to our fields a pair of birds. They had never built a nest nor seen a winter.

Oh, how beautiful was everything! The fields were full of flowers, the grass was growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere.

One of the birds fell to singing, and the other bird said, "Who told you to sing?"

He answered, "The flowers and the bees told me. The blue sky told me, and you told me."

"When did I tell you to sing?" asked his mate.

"Every time you brought in tender grass for the nest," he replied. "Every time your soft wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to line it."

Then his mate asked, "What are you singing about?"

"I am singing about everything," he answered. "I sing because I am happy."

By and by five little speckled eggs were in the nest, and the mother bird asked, "Is there anything in all the world as pretty as my eggs?"

A week or two afterward, the mother said, "Oh, what do you think has happened? One of my eggs has been peeping and moving."

Soon another egg moved, then another, and another, till five eggs were hatched.

The little birds were so hungry that it kept the parents busy feeding them. Away they both flew. The moment the little birds heard them coming back, five yellow mouths flew open wide.

"Can anybody be happier?" said the father bird to the mother bird. "We will live in this tree always. It is a tree that bears joy."

II

The very next day one of the birds dropped out of the nest, and in a moment a cat ate it up. Only four remained, and the parent birds were very sad. There was no song all that day, nor the next.

Soon the little birds were big enough to fly. The first bird that tried his wings flew from one branch to another. His parents praised him, and the other baby birds wondered how he had done it.

The little one was so proud of it that he tried again. He flew and flew and couldn't stop flying. At last he fell plump! down by the kitchen door. A little boy caught him and carried him into the house.

Now only three birds were left. The sun no longer seemed bright to the birds, and they did not sing so often.

In a little time the other birds learned to use their wings, and they flew away and away. They found their own food and made their own nests.

Then the old birds sat silent and looked at each other a long while. At last the mother bird asked, "Why don't you sing?"

"I can't sing," the father bird answered. "I only think and think!"

"What are you thinking of?"

"I am thinking how everything changes. The leaves are falling, and soon there will be no roof over our heads. The flowers are all gone. Last night there was a frost. Almost all the birds have flown away, and I am restless. Something calls me, and I feel that I must fly away, too."

"Let us fly away together!" the mother bird said.

Then they rose silently up in the air. They looked to the north; far away they saw the snow coming. They looked to the south; there they saw green leaves.

All day they flew. All night they flew and flew, till they found a land where there was no winter. There it was summer all the time; flowers always blossomed and birds always sang.

--HENRY WARD BEECHER

BOB WHITE

There's a plump little chap in a speckled coat,
And he sits on the zigzag rails remote,
Where he whistles at breezy, bracing morn,
When the buckwheat is ripe, and stacked is the corn:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"

Is he hailing some comrade as blithe as he?
Now I wonder where Robert White can be!
O'er the billows of gold and amber grain
There is no one in sight--but, hark again:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"

Ah! I see why he calls; in the stubble there
Hide his plump little wife and babies fair!
So contented is he, and so proud of the same,
That he wants all the world to know his name:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"

--GEORGE COOPER.

HOW MARY GOT A NEW DRESS

Mary lived a long time ago. She was a little girl when your great-great-grandmother was a little girl.

In those days all cloth had to be made at home. Aunt Dinah, Aunt Chloe, and Aunt Dilsey were kept busy spinning and weaving to make clothes for the whole plantation.

One day Mary's mother said, "Aunt Dilsey, Mary needs a new dress, and I want you to weave some cloth at once. Can you weave some very fine cloth?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Aunt Dilsey. "I have some cotton I've been saving to make her a dress."

Aunt Dilsey got out the cards and carded the cotton smooth and fine. Then she fastened a roll of this cotton to the spindle and sent the wheel whirling around with a "Zum-m-m-m--Zum-m-m-m!"

Mary stood and watched the old woman.

"Aunt Dilsey," she said, "the spinning wheel sings a song, and I know what it says. Grandmother told me. It says,

'A hum and a whirl,
A twist and a twirl,
This is for the girl
With the golden curl!
Zum-m-m-m-m-m!
Zum-m-m-m-m-m!'"

"And that means you, honey," said Aunt Dilsey.

When the yarn was ready, Aunt Dilsey fastened it in the loom and began to weave. The threads went over and under, over and under. As Aunt Dilsey wove, she hummed. Mary stood by and sang this song,

"Over and under and over we go,
Weaving the cotton as white as the snow,
Weaving the cloth for a dress, oh, ho!
As over and under and over we go."

After the cloth had been woven, Aunt Dilsey took it out of the loom. Then she bleached it until it was as white as snow. Now it was ready to be made into a dress.

"Mother, do tell me how you are going to make the dress," said Mary. "Will it have ruffles on it like Sue's? Will it have trimming on it? And how many buttons will you put on it? Sue's dress has twelve; I know, for I counted them."

Mother did not answer all these questions; she just smiled as the scissors went snip, snip into the cloth. But she did cut out ruffles, and Aunt Maria began to hem them.

By and by grandmother came into the room.

"Mary," she said, "here is some lace I got in England. Mother may put it on your dress."

How happy Mary was! She danced for joy.

Mother put on the lace, and grandmother worked the buttonholes. How many do you suppose she worked? Why, she worked twelve!

When the dress was finished, it was just like Sue's. Only it was a great deal finer, for Mary's dress had three ruffles and Sue's had only two! And, then, there was the lace from England!

THE PLAID DRESS

"I want a warm plaid dress," said a little girl. "The days are colder, and the frost will soon be here. But how can I get it? Mother says that she cannot buy one for me."

The old white sheep in the meadow heard her, and he bleated to the shepherd, "The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. I will give my wool. Who else will help?"

The kind shepherd said, "I will." Then he led the old white sheep to the brook and washed its wool. When it was clean and white, he said, "The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. The sheep has given his wool, and I have washed it clean and white. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the shearers. "We will bring our shears and cut off the wool."

The shearers cut the soft wool from the old sheep, and then they called, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed it; and we have sheared it. Who else will help?"

"We will," cried the carders. "We will comb it out straight and smooth."

Soon they held up the wool, carded straight and smooth, and they cried, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it, and we have carded it. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the spinners. "We will spin it into thread."

"Whirr, whirr!" How fast the spinning wheels turned, singing all the time.

Soon the spinners said, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it, and we have spun it into thread. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the dyers. "We will dye it with beautiful colors."

Then they dipped the woven threads into bright dye, red and blue and green and brown.

As they spread the wool out to dry, the dyers called: "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it. The spinners have spun it, and we have dyed it with bright beautiful colors. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the weavers. "We will make it into cloth."

"Clickety-clack! clickety-clack!" went the loom, as the colored thread was woven over and under over and under. Before long it was made into beautiful plaid cloth.

Then the little girl's mother cut and made the dress. It was a beautiful plaid dress, and the little girl loved to wear it. Every time she put it on, she thought of her friends who had helped her,--the sheep, the shearers, the carders, the spinners, the dyers, the weavers, and her own dear mother.

THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM

Hoangti was the emperor of China. He had a beautiful wife whose name was Si-ling. The emperor and his wife loved their people and always thought of their happiness.

In those days the Chinese people wore clothes made of skins. By and by animals grew scarce, and the people did not know what they should wear. The emperor and empress tried in vain to find some other way of clothing them.

One morning Hoangti and his wife were in the beautiful palace garden. They walked up and down, up and down, talking of their people.

Suddenly the emperor said, "Look at those worms on the mulberry trees, Si-ling. They seem to be spinning."

Si-ling looked, and sure enough, the worms were spinning. A long thread was coming from the mouth of each, and each little worm was winding this thread around its body.

Si-ling and the emperor stood still and watched the worms. "How wonderful!" said Si-ling.

The next morning Hoangti and the empress walked under the trees again. They found some worms still winding thread. Others had already spun their cocoons and were fast asleep. In a few days all of the worms had spun cocoons.

"This is indeed a wonderful, wonderful thing!" said Si-ling. "Why, each worm has a thread on its body long enough to make a house for itself!"

Si-ling thought of this day after day. One morning as she and the emperor walked under the trees, she said, "I believe I could find a way to weave those long threads into cloth."

"But how could you unwind the threads?" asked the emperor.

"I'll find a way," Si-ling said. And she did; but she had to try many, many times.

She put the cocoons in a hot place, and the little sleepers soon died. Then the cocoons were thrown into boiling water to make the threads soft. After that the long threads could be easily unwound.

Now Si-ling had to think of something else; she had to find a way to weave the threads into cloth. After many trials, she made a loom--the first that was ever made. She taught others to weave, and soon hundreds of people were making cloth from the threads of the silkworm.

The people ever afterward called Si-ling "The Goddess of the Silkworm." And whenever the emperor walked with her in the garden, they liked to watch the silkworms spinning threads for the good of their people.

THE FLAX

I

It was spring. The flax was in full bloom, and it had dainty little blue flowers that nodded in the breeze.

"People say that I look very well," said the flax. "They say that I am fine and long and that I shall make a beautiful piece of linen. How happy I am! No one in the world can be happier."

"Oh, yes," said the fence post, "you may grow and be happy, and you may sing, but you do not know the world as I do. Why, I have knots in me." And it creaked;

"Snip, snap, snurre,
Basse, lurre,
The song is ended."

"No, it is not ended," said the flax. "The sun will shine, and the rain will fall, and I shall grow and grow. No, no, the song is not ended."

One day some men came with sharp reap hooks. They took the flax by the head and cut it off at the roots. This was very painful, you may be sure.

Then the flax was laid in water and was nearly drowned. After that it was put on a fire and nearly roasted. All this was frightful. But the flax only said, "One cannot be happy always. By having bad times as well as good, we become wise."

After the flax had been cut and steeped and roasted, it was put on a spinning wheel. "Whir-r-r, whir-rr-r," went the spinning wheel; it went so fast that the flax could hardly think.

"I have been very happy in the sunshine and the rain," it said. "If I am in pain now, I must be contented."

At last the flax was put in the loom. Soon it became a beautiful piece of white linen.

"This is very wonderful," said the flax. "How foolish the fence post was with its song of--

'Snip, snap, snurre,
Basse, lurre,
The song is ended.'

The song is not ended, I am sure. It has only just begun.

"After all that I have suffered, I am at last made into beautiful linen. How strong and fine I am, and how long and white! This is even better than being a plant bearing flowers. I have never been happier than I am now."

After some time the linen was cut into pieces and sewed with needles. That was not pleasant; but at last there were twelve pretty white aprons.

"See," said the flax, "I have been made into something. Now I shall be of some use in the world. That is the only way to be happy."

II

Years passed by, and the linen was so worn that it could hardly hold together.

"The end must come soon," said the flax.

At last the linen did fall into rags and tatters; it was torn into shreds and boiled in water. The flax thought the end had come.

But no, the end was not yet. After being made into pulp and dried, the flax became beautiful white paper.

"This is a surprise, a glorious surprise," it said. "I am finer than ever, and I shall have fine things written on me. How happy I am!"

And sure enough, the most beautiful stories and verses were written upon it. People read the stories and verses, and they were made wiser and better. Their children and their children's children read them, too, and so the song was not ended.

--HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

THE WONDERFUL WORLD

Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful World,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast,
World, you are beautifully drest.

The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree--
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the top of the hills.

You friendly Earth, how far do you go,
With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow,
With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?

Ah! you are so great, and I am so small,
I hardly can think of you, World, at all;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A whisper within me seemed to say,
"You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot!
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!"

--William Brighty Rands.

THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE

As every one knows, fairies are always just. They are kind to others, and in return they expect others to be kind to them. In some countries across the sea there are fairies called Hillmen.

Now, there once lived a certain housewife who liked to make bargains. She gave away only those things for which she had no use, and then expected always to get something in return.

One day a Hillman knocked at her door.

"Can you lend us a saucepan?" he asked. "There's a wedding on the hill, and all the pots are in use."

"Is he to have one?" whispered the servant who opened the door.

"Aye, to be sure," answered the housewife; "one must be neighborly. Get the saucepan for him, lass."

The maid turned to take a good saucepan from the shelf, but the housewife stopped her.

"Not that, not that," she whispered. "Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, but that doesn't matter. The Hillmen are so neat and are such nimble workers that they are sure to mend it before they send it home. I can oblige the fairies and save sixpence in tinkering, too."

The maid brought the old saucepan that had been laid by until the tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman. He thanked her and went away.

When the saucepan was returned, it had been neatly mended, just as the housewife thought it would be.

At night the maid filled the pan with milk and set it on the fire to heat for the children's supper. In a few moments the milk was so smoked and burnt that no one would touch it. Even the pigs refused to drink it.

"Ah, you good-for-nothing!" cried the housewife. "There's a quart of milk wasted at once."

"And that's twopence," cried a queer little voice that seemed to come from the chimney.

The housewife filled the saucepan again and set it over the fire. It had not been there more than two minutes before it boiled over and was burnt and smoked as before.

"The pan must be dirty," muttered the woman, who was very much vexed. "Two full quarts of milk have been wasted."

"And that's fourpence!" added the queer little voice from the chimney.

The saucepan was scoured; then it was filled with milk the third time and set over the fire. Again the milk boiled over and was spoiled.

Now the housewife was quite vexed. "I have never had anything like this to happen since I first kept house," she exclaimed. "Three quarts of milk wasted!"

"And that's sixpence," cried the queer little voice from the chimney. "You didn't save the tinkering after all, mother!"

With that the Hillman himself came tumbling from the chimney and ran off laughing. But from that time, the saucepan was as good as any other.

--JULIANA H. EWING.

THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE

Under a toad stool
Crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain
To shelter himself.

Under the toad stool
Sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse
All in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf
Frightened, and yet
Fearing to fly away
Lest he get wet.

To the next shelter--
Maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf
Smiled a wee smile;

Tugged till the toad stool
Toppled in two;
Holding it over him,
Gayly he flew.

Soon he was safe home,
Dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse--
"Good gracious me!

"Where is my toad stool?"
Loud he lamented.
And that's how umbrellas
First were invented.

--OLIVER HERFORD.

THE BELL OF ATRI

I

Good King John of Atri loved his people very much and wished to see them happy. He knew, however, that some were not; he knew that many suffered wrongs which were not righted. This made him sad.

One day the king thought of a way to help his people. He had a great bell hung in a tower in the market place. He had the rope made so long that a child could reach it.

Then the king sent heralds through the streets to tell the people why he had put the bell in the market place. The heralds blew their trumpets long and loud, and the people came from their homes to hear the message.

"Know ye," cried a herald, "that whenever a wrong is done to any man, he has but to ring the great bell in the square. A judge will go to the tower to hear the complaint, and he will see that justice is done."

"Long live our good king!" shouted the people. "Now our wrongs shall be righted."

And so it was. Whenever anyone was wronged, he rang the bell in the tower. The judge put on his rich robes and went there. He listened to the complaint, and the guilty were punished.

The people in Atri were now very happy, and the days went swiftly by. The bell hung in its place year after year, and it was rung many times. By and by the rope became so worn that one could scarcely reach it.

The king said, "Why, a child could not reach the rope now, and a wrong might not be righted. I must put in a new one."

So he ordered a rope from a distant town. In those days it took a long time to travel from one town to another. What should they do if somebody wished to ring the bell before the new rope came?

"We must mend the rope in some way," said a man.

"Here," said another; "take this piece of grapevine and fasten it to the rope. Then it will be long enough for any one to reach."

This was done, and for some time the bell was rung in that way.

II

One hot summer noon everything was very still. All the people were indoors taking their noonday rest.

Suddenly they were awakened by the arousing bell:

Some one--hath done--a wrong,
Hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!

The judge started from a deep sleep, turned on his couch, and listened. Could it be the bell of justice?

Again the sound came:

Some one--hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!

It was the bell of justice. The judge put on his rich robes and, panting, hurried to the market place.

There he saw a strange sight: a poor steed, starved and thin, tugging at the vines which were fastened to the bell. A great crowd had gathered around.

"Whose horse is this?" the judge asked.

"It is the horse of the rich soldier who lives in the castle," said a man. "He has served his master long and well, and has saved his life many times. Now that the horse is too old to work, the master turns him out. He wanders through the lanes and fields, picking up such food as can be found."

"His call for justice shall be heard," said the judge. "Bring the soldier to me."

The soldier tried to treat the matter as a jest. Then he grew angry and said in an undertone, "One can surely do what he pleases with his own."

"For shame!" cried the judge. "Has the horse not served you for many years? And has he not saved your life? You must build a good shelter for him, and give him the best grain and the best pasture. Take the horse home and be as true to him as he has been to you."

The soldier hung his head in shame and led the horse away. The people shouted and applauded.

"Great is King John," they cried, "and great the bell of Atri!"

--ITALIAN TALE.

A DUMB WITNESS

One day at noontime a poor man was riding along a road. He was tired and hungry, and wished to stop and rest. Finding a tree with low branches, he tied his horse to one of them. Then he sat down to eat his dinner.

Soon a rich man came along and started to tie his horse to the same tree.

"Do not fasten your horse to that tree," cried the poor man. "My horse is savage and he may kill yours. Fasten him to another tree."

"I shall tie my horse where I wish," the rich man replied; and he tied his horse to the same tree. Then he, too, sat down to eat.

Very soon the men heard a great noise. They looked up and saw that their horses were kicking and fighting. Both men rushed to stop them, but it was too late; the rich man's horse was dead.

"See what your horse has done!" cried the rich man in an angry voice. "But you shall pay for it! You shall pay for it!"

Then he dragged the man before a judge.

"Oh, wise judge," he cried, "I have come to you for justice. I had a beautiful, kind, gentle horse which has been killed by this man's savage horse. Make the man pay for the horse or send him to prison."

"Not so fast, my friend," the judge said. "There are two sides to every case."

He turned to the poor man. "Did your horse kill this man's horse?" he asked.

The poor man made no reply.

The judge asked in surprise, "Are you dumb? Can you not talk?"

But no word came from the poor man's lips.

Then the judge turned to the rich man.

"What more can I do?" he asked. "You see for yourself this poor man cannot speak."

"Oh, but he can," cried the rich man. "He spoke to me."

"Indeed!" said the judge. "When?"

"He spoke to me when I tied my horse to the tree."

"What did he say?" asked the judge.

"He said, 'Do not fasten your horse to that tree. My horse is savage and may kill yours.'"

"0 ho!" said the judge. "This poor man warned you that his horse was savage, and you tied your horse near his after the warning. This puts a new light on the matter. You are to blame, not he."

The judge turned to the poor man and said, "My man, why did you not answer my questions?"

"Oh, wise judge," said the poor man, "if I had told you that I warned him not to tie his horse near mine, he would have denied it. Then how could you have told which one of us to believe? I let him tell his own story, and you have learned the truth."

This speech pleased the judge. He praised the poor man for his wisdom, and sent the rich man away without a penny.

--ARABIAN TALE.

GIVING THANKS

For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song, and the harvest brought home--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the working-man's hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea to sea,
The land that is known as "The Land of the Free"--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

THE HARE AND THE HEDGEHOG

I

PLACE: A farmer's cabbage field.

TIME: A fine morning in spring.

(The hedgehog is standing by his door looking at the cabbage field which he thinks is his own.)

HEDGEHOG: Wife, have you dressed the children yet?

WIFE: Just through, my dear.

HEDGEHOG: Well, come out here and let us look at our cabbage patch.

(Wife comes out.)

HEDGEHOG: Fine crop, isn't it? We should be happy.

WIFE: The cabbage is fine enough, but I can't see why we should be so happy.

HEDGEHOG: Why, my dear, there are tears in your voice. What is the matter?

WIFE: I suppose I ought not to mind it, but those dreadful hares nearly worry the life out of me.

HEDGEHOG: What are they doing now?

WIFE: Doing? What are they not doing? Why, yesterday I brought my pretty babies out here to get some cabbage leaves. We were eating as well-behaved hedgehogs always eat, and those horrid hares almost made us cry.

HEDGEHOG: What did they do?

WIFE: They came to our cabbage patch and they giggled and said, "Oh, see the little duck-legged things! Aren't they funny?" Then one jumped over a cabbage just to hurt our feelings.

HEDGEHOG: Well, they are mean, I know, but we won't notice them. I'll get even with them one of these days. Ah, there comes one of them now.

WIFE: Yes, and he laughed at me yesterday. He said, "Good-morning, Madam Shortlegs." I won't speak to him. I'll hide till he goes by.

(Wife hides behind a cabbage.)

HEDGEHOG: Good-morning, sir.

HARE: Are you speaking to me?

HEDGEHOG: Certainly; do you see any one else around?

HARE: How dare you speak to me?

HEDGEHOG: Oh, just to be neighborly.

HARE: I shall ask you not to speak to me hereafter. I think myself too good to notice hedgehogs.

HEDGEHOG: Now, that is strange.

HARE: What is strange?

HEDGEHOG: Why, I have just said to my wife that we wouldn't notice you.

HARE: Wouldn't notice me, indeed, you silly, short-legged, duck-legged thing!

HEDGEHOG: Well, my legs are quite as good as yours, sir.

HARE: As good as mine! Who ever heard of such a thing? Why, you can do little more than crawl.

HEDGEHOG: That may be as you say, but I'll run a race with you any day.

HARE: Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! A race with a hedgehog! Well, well, well!

HEDGEHOG: Are you afraid to run with me?

HARE: Of course not. It will be no race at all, but I'll run just to show you how silly you are.

HEDGEHOG: Good! You run in that furrow; I will run in this. We shall see who gets to the fence first. Let's start from the far end of the furrow.

HARE: I will run to the brook and back while you are getting there. Go ahead.

HEDGEHOG: I wouldn't stay too long if I were you.

HARE: Oh, I'll be back before you reach the end of the furrow.

(The hare runs off to the brook.)

II

HEDGEHOG: Wife, wife, did you hear what I said to the hare?

WIFE: Did I hear? I should say I did. What are you thinking of? Have you lost your senses?

HEDGEHOG: You shouldn't speak that way to me. What do you know about a man's business? Come here and let me whisper something to you.

(He whispers and then walks to far end of the furrow. His wife laughs.)

WIFE: Ha, ha! I see. I see. Nothing wrong with your brains.

"Short legs, long wit,
Long legs, not a bit,"

as my grandmother used to say. The hare will find that out today.

(She stoops down in the near end of the furrow. The hare returns and takes his place.)

HARE: Well, are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: Of course I am,--ready and waiting.

HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!

(The hare runs as swiftly as the wind. The hedgehog starts with him, but stops and stoops low in the furrow. When the hare reaches the other end, the hedgehog's wife puts up her head.)

WIFE: Well, here I am.

HARE: What does this mean?

WIFE: It means what it means.

HARE: We'll try again. Are you ready?

WIFE: Of course I am.

HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!

(The hare runs swiftly back again. Wife starts, but stops and stoops low. The hare reaches the other end. The hedgehog puts up his head.)

HEDGEHOG: Here I am.

HARE: I can't understand this.

HEDGEHOG: It is very clear to me.

HARE: Well, we'll try again. Are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: I'm always ready.

HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!

(Again the wife puts up her head and the hare is bewildered.)

WIFE: You see I am here.

HARE: I just can't believe it.

WIFE: A perfectly simple thing.

HARE: We'll try once more. You can't beat me another time.

WIFE: Don't boast. You had better save your breath for the race; you will need it.

HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!

(When the hare reaches the other end of the field, the hedgehog puts up his head.)

HARE: This is very strange.

HEDGEHOG: Shall we run again? You seem a little tired, but I am perfectly fresh.

HARE (_panting_): No, no! The race is yours.

HEDGEHOG: Will you call my wife and children names any more?

HARE: No, no! I'll never do that again.

HEDGEHOG: Very well. And if you wish a race at any time, friend hare, just call by for me.

HARE (_walking off shaking his head_): It's very strange. I hope none of the other hares will hear of this race.

WIFE (_as she meets the hedgehog_): I thought I should hurt myself laughing. As my grandmother used to say,

"Short legs, long wit,
Long legs, not a bit."

--GRIMM.

EPAMINONDAS

Epaminondas had a good kind granny, who cooked at "the big house." Epaminondas liked to go to see her, for she always gave him something to take home with him.

One day when Epaminondas went to see granny, she was baking a cake, and she gave Epaminondas a piece to eat. As he was leaving, granny said, "Epaminondas, you may take a slice home to your mammy."

Epaminondas took it in his little hands and squeezing it just as tight as he could, ran all the way home. When his mammy saw him, she said, "What's that, Epaminondas?"

"Cake, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Cake!" cried his mammy. "Epaminondas, don't you know that's no way to carry cake? When your granny gives you cake, put it in your hat; then put your hat on your head and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she was churning, and she gave him a pat of fresh butter to carry to his mammy.

Epaminondas said to himself, "What was it mammy said? Oh, yes! I know. She said, 'Put it in your hat and put the hat on your head and come home.' I'll do just what she told me."

Epaminondas put the pat of butter in his hat, put his hat on his head, and went home.

It was a hot day, and soon the butter began to melt. Drip, drip, drip, it went into his ears. Drip, drip, drip, it went into his eyes. Drip, drip, drip, it went down his back. When Epaminondas reached home, he had no butter in his hat. It was all on him.

Looking at him hard, his mammy said, "Epaminondas, what in the world is that dripping from your hat?"

"Butter, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Butter!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! Don't you know how to carry butter? You must wrap it in a cabbage leaf, and take it to the spring. Then you must cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water. When you have done this, take the butter in your hands and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she wasn't baking cake and she wasn't churning. She was sitting in a chair knitting.

She said, "Epaminondas, look in the woodshed, and you'll see something you like."

Epaminondas looked in the woodshed, and there he found four little puppies. He played with them all the afternoon, and when he started home, his granny gave him one.

Epaminondas remembered what his mammy had told him. He wrapped the puppy in a big cabbage leaf, and took it to the spring. He cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water. Then he took it in his hands, and went home.

When his mammy saw him, she said, "Epaminondas, what is that in your hands?"

"A puppy dog, mammy."

"A puppy dog!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! What makes you act so foolish? That's no way to carry a puppy. The way to carry a puppy is to tie a string around his neck and put him on the ground. Then you take the other end of the string in your hand and come along home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

Epaminondas was going to be right the next time; he got a piece of string and put it in his pocket to have it ready.

The next day company came to see Epaminondas's mammy, and she had no bread for dinner. She called Epaminondas and said, "Run to 'the big house' and ask your granny to send me a loaf of bread for dinner."

"Yes, mammy," said Epaminondas. And off he ran.

Granny gave him a loaf just from the oven--a nice, brown, crusty loaf. This time Epaminondas was certainly going to do what mammy had told him.

He proudly got out his string and tied it to the loaf. Then he put the loaf on the ground, and taking the other end of the string in his hand, he went along home.

When he reached home, his mammy gave one look at the thing tied to the end of the string.

"What have you brought, Epaminondas?" she cried.

"Bread, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Oh, Epaminondas! Epaminondas! How could you be so foolish?" cried his mammy. "Now I have no bread for dinner. I'll have to go and get some myself."

She went into the house and got her bonnet. When she came out, she said, "Epaminondas, do you see those three mince pies I've put on the doorstep to cool. Well, now, you hear me, Epaminondas. You be careful how you step on those pies!"

"Yes, mammy."

His mammy went off down the road; Epaminondas went to the door and looked out. "Mammy told me to be careful how I step on those mince pies," he said, "so I must be careful how I do it. I'll step right in the middle of every one."

And he did!

When his mammy came home, there were no pies for dinner.

Now she was angry all over, and something happened. I don't know, and you don't know, but we can guess.

Poor Epaminondas!--SOUTHERN TALE.

HOW BROTHER RABBIT FOOLED THE WHALE AND THE ELEPHANT

I

One day Brother Rabbit was running along on the sand, lippety, lippety, lippety. He was going to a fine cabbage field. On the way he saw the whale and the elephant talking together.

Brother Rabbit said, "I'd like to know what they are talking about." So he crouched down behind some bushes and listened.

This is what Brother Rabbit heard the whale say: