Chapter I: Front Matter

THE

NURSERY

_A Monthly Magazine_

FOR YOUNGEST READERS.

VOLUME XXI.--No. 3.

BOSTON:
JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET,
1877.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by

JOHN L. SHOREY,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

FRANKLIN PRESS: RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY, 117 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON.

IN PROSE.

An Old-Time Scene 65
Nelly's First Lesson in Dancing 69
Old Jim 71
Second Lesson in Astronomy 73
How a Rat was once Caught 74
To Sea in a Tub 76
Drawing-Lesson 81
A Woodchuck Hunt 82
The Schoolmistress 85
Peter and Polly 88
Tommy and the Blacksmith 89
In the Country 91
Dodger 93
The Mother-Hen 94

IN VERSE.

Tom-Tit 68
A Lenten-Song 79
A Mew from Pussy 86
Down on the Sandy Beach 90
Song of the Cat (_with music_) 96

AN OLD-TIME SCENE.

OOK at the picture, and see if you can tell what has roused all those children up so early in the morning. There is Mary in her stocking-feet. There is Ann in her night-dress. There is Tom, bare armed and bare legged.

Why have they all left their beds, and run into the play-room in such haste? And why is little Ned, the baby, sitting up in the bed, as though he wanted to come too?

It is plain enough that the children use that room for a play-room; for you can see playthings on the mantle-piece. But why are they all flocking about the fireplace? And why is mamma coming upstairs with a dust-brush in her hand? And why is that cloth hung over the fireplace? And whose are those bare feet peeping from under it?

"Oh!" perhaps you will say, "it is Santa Claus; and the children are trying to catch him." Oh, no! Santa Claus never allows himself to be caught in that way. You never see even his feet. He never leaves his shoes on the floor, nor dirty old brushes, nor shovels. It is not Santa Claus--it is only a chimney-sweeper.

"But what is a chimney-sweeper?" I think I hear you ask. Well, we do not have such chimney-sweepers now-a-days, at least not in this part of the world. But ask your grandfathers and grandmothers to tell you about the chimney-sweepers that were to be seen in Boston forty or fifty years ago, and I warrant that many of them will remember just such a scene as you see in the picture.

In those days, before hard coal fires had come in use, chimney-sweepers were often employed. They were small boys, working under the orders of a master in the business, who was very often a hard master. Generally they were negroes; but, whether so or not, they soon became so black with soot, that you could not tell them from negroes.

The chimney-sweepers always came early in the morning, before the fires were lighted; and their coming was a great event to the children of a household. "When a child," says a famous English writer, speaking of the chimney-sweepers of London, "what a mysterious pleasure it was to witness their operation!--to see a chit no bigger than one's self enter into that dark hole--to pursue him in imagination, as he went sounding on through so many stifling caverns--to shudder with the idea, that 'now surely he must be lost forever!'--to revive at hearing his feeble shout of discovered daylight,--and then (oh, fulness of delight!) running out of doors, to come just in time to see him emerge in safety!"

There are chimney-sweepers even now; but none of the old-fashioned kind. In many places it is forbidden by law to send boys up the chimneys. So the modern chimney-sweeper puts his brush on the end of a pole, which is made in joints, like a fishing-rod, and, by attaching joint after joint, thrusts it farther and farther up the chimney.

TOM-TIT.

WHAT is it? What is it?
Only a feather
Blown by the wind
In this cold stormy weather,
Hunted and hurried so
Hither and thither?
Leaf or a feather,
I know not if either.
There, hark now, and see!
'Tis alight on a tree,
And sings, "Chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick-a-dee-dee!"
I know it! you know it!
'Tis little Tom-tit.

Look at it! Look at it
Flutter and hover!
Only a tuft of down
On it for cover!
Only a bare bough
To shelter it over!
Poor little rover,
Snow-fields for clover
Are all that you see!
Yet listen the glee
Of its "chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick a-dee-dee!"
Hark to it! look at it!
Little Tom-tit!

How is it? Why is it?
Like a snow-flurry,
With swish of wings,
And a swoop and a scurry,
Comes a whole flock of them
Now in a hurry!
Busy and merry
The little things, very;
Watch them, and see
How blithe they can be
With their "Chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick-a-dee-dee!"
Each one such a bit
Of a little Tom-tit!

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.

NELLY'S FIRST LESSON IN DANCING.

GRANDPA MASON has not quite forgotten his dancing days. So one day, when little Nelly said, "I wish I knew how to dance like Emma Drake!" grandpa replied, "I'll teach you, Nelly, if you will bring me my accordion."

So Nelly brought the accordion; and grandpa seated himself in his old wooden arm-chair. First he taught her the steps, and then said, "Now, Nelly, you must try to move round just as you saw Emma do; and be sure and keep time to the music."

Nelly made a courtesy, and began to dance; and, as grandpa looked on, his heart seemed to dance with her; for he felt young once more, and went back, in thought, to the times when he was about as old as she.

That was a long while ago--more than seventy years. He sighed as he thought of his little brothers and sisters, all now gone to the better world. But Nelly's merry look soon drove away his sad mood.

"Well done, Nelly!" said he. "You will make a dancer; for you follow the music well, and step out lightly and easily. Now let me see you rise a little on your left foot, and whirl round once."

Nelly did it, and grandpa said, "Bravely done, little girl! Here ends your first lesson in dancing. To-morrow we will have another. Now get your new 'Nursery,' and let me hear one of the stories; for we must take care of the head, as well as the heels."

Nelly laughed; but, when she began to read, the tune she had just heard came back to her, and she could hardly keep from dancing up and down.

"One thing at a time, darling," said grandpa. "If we would do one thing well, we must not let our thoughts wander to something else. Tell me when you think you can give your thoughts to reading. I can wait."

Nelly took a few more dancing-steps, whirled around twice, made a courtesy, then came, and read so well, that grandpa said, "You deserve a good mark for reading, my dear. Now, whether you read, or whether you dance, mind this:--

"What you do, if well you would do it,
Rule your thoughts, and give them all to it."

IDA FAY.

OLD JIM.

JIM is a fine large horse. He lives in the engine-house, and draws the hose-carriage. His stall is so made that, when the alarm-bell strikes, it opens in front of him, leaving the way clear for him to rush out and take his place in front of the hose-carriage.

One night, the hoseman (who sleeps upstairs in the engine-house, so as to be all ready if there is an alarm of fire) heard a great noise down below,--a stamping and jumping, as if the horses were getting ready to go to a fire, when there was no alarm at all. He went softly to the stairway, and looked down; and there was Jim, jumping over the shafts of the hose-carriage, first one way, then another, just to amuse himself.

One day old Jim was in the yard behind the engine-house, and a man went out to catch him, and lead him in. But he rushed and pranced around the yard, and would not be caught. Then the man set out to drive him in; and what do you think Jim did?

Instead of going in at the open door, he made a leap, and went in at the open window, without breaking a glass, or hurting himself in the least. No one who saw the window would believe that such a great horse could possibly have gone through it.

When Jim is fed, he sometimes puts his nose in the oats, and throws them all out on the floor. Then he begins to eat them up, and, after he has eaten all he can reach standing, he goes down on his knees, and reaches out with his long tongue, and picks up every oat he can find.

Outside of his stall, on one side, is a watering-trough, where Jim is taken to drink. The water comes through a pipe, and is turned on by a faucet. Two or three times the water was found running, so that the trough overflowed, when no one had been near to meddle with it.

At last the men suspected that Jim was the rogue, and they kept very still, and watched one night till Jim thought he was all alone. Then they saw him twist himself almost double in his stall, stretch his long neck out, take the faucet in his teeth, turn on the water, and get a good drink. But he could not shut it off again.

Jim is a brave horse to go to a fire; but there is one thing that frightens him dreadfully, and that is--a feather duster! He is not afraid of any thing he sees in the streets, and the greatest noise of the Fourth of July will not scare him; but show him a feather duster, and his heels will fly up, and he will act as if he were going out of his senses.

The firemen think Jim a most amusing horse; and they sometimes say that he understands as much as some people do, and can do most every thing but talk.

H. W.

SECOND LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star:
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!"

DID any of you find the red star I asked you to look for last month? I hope you did; for I want you to look at it again while I tell you something about the "twinkle" of it.

Look very carefully, first at the red star, and then at just as large a white star; and, if your eyes are bright, you will see that the white one twinkles the most. I wish I could tell you why; but I think nobody knows.

Be very careful, though, not to choose a white star that is not a star; for, as that twinkles very little, you may think I am mistaken.

"A star that is _not_ a star?" I think I hear you say, "How I wonder what you are!" Well, I will tell you.

Although most of the "diamonds in the sky," commonly called stars, are real stars, or suns like our sun, a few of them are not suns, but solid globes or worlds like that which we inhabit, warmed and lighted by our sun. When the sun is shining on them, they look bright to us; but it is only the light of our own sun thrown back, or reflected. They give no light themselves.

Because they have our sun, we and they are like members of one family. We call them "planets" (just as our earth is called "a planet"), and are as familiar with their names as if they were our brothers and sisters. One of them, for instance, is called Venus; another, Jupiter; and another, Saturn. Can you remember these hard names?

Now you would never notice the difference between these few stars and all the others, if you did not look very carefully to see whether they twinkle or not. And I would advise you to ask somebody to point them out to you whenever they are in sight.

I cannot tell you exactly where to look for them, because they wander about a good deal, and I do not know where they will be when you happen to read this number of "The Nursery."

From all this you will see that you will have to be very particular what kind of a star you look at when you say,--

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star."