Chapter I: Part 1

[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]

Three Minute Stories

BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS

Each, one volume, cloth decorative, illustrated

=Five Minute Stories= =$1.75=
=More Five Minute Stories= =1.75=
=Three Minute Stories= =1.75=
=A Happy Little Time= =1.75=
=Four Feet, Two Feet, No Feet= =2.75=
=When I Was Your Age= =1.75=

THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES

Each, one volume, illustrated, 90 cents

=Captain January=
=Melody=
=Marie=
=Rosin the Beau=
=Snow-white=
=Jim of Hellas=
=Narcissa=
=“Some Day”=
=Nautilus=
=Isla Heron=
=The Little Master=

HILDEGARDE-MARGARET SERIES

Each, one volume, illustrated, $1.75

=Queen Hildegarde=
=Hildegarde’s Holiday=
=Hildegarde’s Home=
=Hildegarde’s Neighbors=
=Hildegarde’s Harvest=
=Three Margarets=
=Margaret Montfort=
=Peggy=
=Rita=
=Fernley House=
=The Merryweathers=

The above eleven volumes are also boxed as a set, $19.25

=Honor Bright= =$1.75=
=The Armstrongs= =1.50=
=The Green Satin Gown= =1.50=

THE PAGE COMPANY
53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass.

Three Minute
Stories

BY LAURA E. RICHARDS

Author of “Five Minute Stories,” “Five Mice in a Mouse
Trap,” “Captain January,” “The Hildegarde Series,”
“The Margaret Series,” etc., etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY JOSEPHINE H. BRUCE

THE PAGE COMPANY

BOSTON PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE PAGE COMPANY
———
_All rights reserved_
———
First Impression, November, 1914
Second Impression, March, 1917

TO
=My Grandchildren,=
WITH MUCH LOVE

Author’s Note

Many of these stories and rhymes appeared originally in the _Ladies’ Home Journal_, and were signed either with my initials, or with names of characters in my books. Others were adapted by me from the Indian “Hitopadesa,” or “Book of Good Counsel,” and from two anonymous story-books of a bygone generation, long out of print. These are marked “Adapted.”

L. E. R.

Contents

PAGE
JOHNNY AND HIS SAND BOX 1
MONOSYLLABICS 6
THE NEW LEAVES 10
GRANDMOTHER’S ALPHABET 14
THE NEW LEAF 20
MR. HOPPY FROG 26
NEW YEAR’S DAY IN THE WOOD 28
THE NEWS FROM ANGEL LAND 33
THE BOASTFUL DONKEY 37
THE CAT’S NAME 41
SUPPITY, SIPPITY! 44
JOHNNY’S RED SHOES AND WHITE STOCKINGS 46
THE FOOLISH TORTOISE 53
THE GARDEN GATE 56
LITTLE CAT’S VALENTINE 59
TO MY VALENTINE 65
MARCH 67
SOMETHING NEW 69
MR. SPARROW’S BATH 70
LITTLE GIRL 76
HOW MR. PEACOCK WENT TO THE FAIR 78
LITTLE BOY 83
FAITHFUL TRUSTY 85
THE GRATEFUL CRANE 88
THE KING OF THE FEN 92
THE SWING 98
THE TREES 100
THE LEPRECHAUN 104
THE DEER AND THE CROW 109
LITTLE GOLDSTAR 114
THE BROOM 119
THE CLEVER CROWS 121
THE JOHN-BETTY TABLE 125
THE LITTLE GRAY DOVES 135
MERRY CHRISTMAS 138
CHRISTMAS GIFTS 142
CHURCH-BELLS 148
THE BIRD OF LIGHT 151
THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS 153
THE PIGEONS 155
PUSSY AND DOGGY 157
DICK’S FAMILY 159

List of Colored Plates

PAGE
“IT IS A FINE BIG BOX, WITH THE SIDES RAISED SO THAT
JOHNNY AND THE SAND WILL NOT FALL OUT.”
(_See page 1_) _Frontispiece_
“THEY FOUND OLD CAT IN THE BARN SITTING ON A TRUSS OF
HAY, WASHING HERSELF” 22
“HE HELD THEM UP SO THAT THE BOY OVER THE FENCE COULD
SEE THEM” 48
“THEN SHE MADE TWO LITTLE STARS AND PASTED THEM ON THE
TIPS OF HIS EARS” 62
“NOW HE GAVE HER ONE IN THE ROSY-POSY DISH” 71
“THE BATTLE WAS LONG AND FIERCE ON BOTH SIDES” 96
“TWICE ONE IS TWO, WE MAKE OUR BOW TO YOU” 125
“NOW THE DOORS WIDE OPEN THROW, THAT WE INTO CHURCH MAY GO” 148

Three Minute Stories

JOHNNY AND HIS SAND BOX

Johnny’s sand box is in the back yard. It is a fine big box, with the sides raised so that Johnny and the sand will not fall out. The sand is fine and dry, and almost white; it came from the seashore, and sometimes you find a little shell in it.

The things that belong in the sand box (beside Johnny himself!) are the blue tin pail to hold sand, and the red tin pail to hold water, and the shovel, and the rake, and the old kitchen spoon. The things that do _not_ belong there (some of them) are the woolly dog (because the sand gets all into his wool, and then shakes out on the nursery floor, and Maggie says it is a Sight!), and Johnny’s shoes and stockings (he likes to take them off and sift the hot, clean sand between his bare toes), and the neighbors’ cats.

This story is about the cats. There are five of them. One is black, and has a red leather collar with a little silver bell; it belongs to the deaf old lady next door, and its name is Jetty. Another is yellow, and belongs to the lame girl in the white house with green blinds; its name is Topaz. The third cat is gray, with white front and paws. This is a lady cat, and her name is Malta; she belongs to the lady whom Johnny calls Mrs. Nose. Mamma does not allow him to say this, and he tries to remember, but sometimes he forgets; one day he said right out, “Good morning, Mrs. Nose!” and she only laughed, and said her nose was just the right size, and she needed it all to smell catnip with. She is a funny lady, and Johnny likes her, and Malta too.

The fourth cat belongs to Mr. Chops the butcher, and is a big tabby, with green eyes and fierce whiskers. Johnny does not like him at all. But the fifth cat is Muffet, his own dear white kitten.

Now all these cats were friends except Bobs, the butcher’s cat. He lives on meat, and Mamma says perhaps that makes him cross. Anyhow, he is cross, and he growls and snarls and spits at Muffet and Jetty and Topaz and Malta, and tries to steal their fishbones, and upsets their milk, and is really a very horrid cat.

The story happened one night last week. Johnny was asleep, and Maggie was tidying up the nursery before going to bed, when suddenly she heard a queer noise. It came from the yard, and she stepped to the window and looked out. It was bright moonlight; and what do you think? The cats were having a party in the sand box! the four friendly cats, that is, Muffet and Topaz and Malta and Jetty. Maggie thought Muffet must have invited the others, for she was sitting in the middle of the box with her front paws tucked under her, looking so pleased and happy; and the three others had their paws tucked in too, and they were all four talking in little soft mews, and seemed to be having a very good time. Then all of a sudden there was a snarl and a yowl, and that horrid great Bobs sprang over the fence and into the sand box, and began clawing and spitting and scratching right and left, just as hard as he could. At first the four friendly cats were too startled to do anything; but in another minute _they_ began to spit and scratch and claw, and there were all five of them rolling over and over, scattering the sand on every side, and making such a noise that it woke Johnny out of his sound sleep. At first he was frightened, but Maggie told him what it was, and said wait and see what she would do. She pushed up the fly screen very softly, and then she brought the great big jug full of water, and leaning out,—splash! she emptied it full on the fighting, struggling cats. _Oh!_ how they yelled! One jumped this way, and one jumped that; and the next moment not one was left except poor little Muffet, sitting in the middle of the box and crying pitifully. “Oh, _poor_ Muffy!” said Johnny. “Poor Muffy _all_ wet!” So then good Maggie ran down and brought Muffet up, and dried her with a towel, and comforted her till she purred. Johnny wanted to take her into bed with him, but Maggie said that never would do; so,—what _do_ you think? She put her in the doll’s cradle with Susan Dolly, and covered her up, and told her to go to sleep, and she did!

MONOSYLLABICS

The black cat sat
In the fat man’s hat;
“Oh, dear!” the fat man said.
“May the great gray bat
Catch the bad black cat
Who has left me no hat
For my head!”

The big brown bear
Tried to curl his hair
To go to the Fair so gay.
But he looked such a fright
That his aunt took flight,
And he cried till night, they say.

A pale pink pig,
In a large blond wig,
Danced a wild, wild jig
On the lea;
But a rude old goat,
In a sky-blue coat,
Said, “You’re nought but a shoat, tee hee!”

A poor old King
Sold his gay gold ring
For to buy his old wife some cream;
But the cat lapped it up
With a sip and a sup,
And his tears ran down in a stream.

A large red cow
Tried to make a bow,
But did not know how,
They say.
For her legs got mixed,
And her horns got fixed,
And her tail _would_ get
In her way.

A boy named Sam
Had a fat pet ram,
And gave him some jam
For his tea;
But the fat pet ram
Tried to butt poor Sam,
Till he had to turn
And flee.

A girl named Jane
Had a sad, bad pain
In the place where she wore
Her belt;
She mopped and she mowed,
And she screamed aloud,
Just to show the crowd
How she felt.

A sad, thin ape
Bought some wide white tape
To trim a new cape
For his niece;
But a bold buff calf,
With a loud, rude laugh,
Bit off one whole half
For his geese.

A pert, proud hen
Laid an egg, and then
Said “Cluck!” and “cluck!” and
“cluck!”
Said the cock, “Had I known
You would take that tone,
I would have wooed none
But a duck!”

THE NEW LEAVES

“Wake up!” said a clear little voice. Tommy woke, and sat up in bed. At the foot of the bed stood a boy about his own age, all dressed in white, like fresh snow. He had very bright eyes, and he looked straight at Tommy.

“Who are you?” asked Tommy.

“I am the New Year!” said the boy. “This is my day, and I have brought you your leaves.”

“What leaves?” asked Tommy.

“The new ones, to be sure!” said the New Year. “I hear bad accounts of you from my Daddy—”

“Who is your Daddy?” asked Tommy.

“The Old Year, of course!” said the boy. “He said you asked too many questions and I see he was right. He says you are greedy, too, and that you sometimes pinch your little sister, and that one day you threw your reader into the fire. Now, all this must stop.”

“Oh, must it?” said Tommy. He felt frightened, and did not know just what to say.

The boy nodded. “If it does not stop,” he said, “you will grow worse and worse every year, till you grow up into a Horrid Man. Do you want to be a Horrid Man?”

“N-no!” said Tommy.

“Then you must stop being a horrid boy!” said the New Year. “Take your leaves!” and he held out a packet of what looked like copy-book leaves, all sparkling white, like his own clothes.

“Turn over one of these every day,” he said, “and soon you will be a good boy instead of a horrid one.”

Tommy took the leaves and looked at them. On each leaf a few words were written. On one it said, “Help your mother!” On another, “Don’t pull the cat’s tail!” On another, “Don’t eat so much!” And on still another, “Don’t fight Billy Jenkins!”

“Oh!” cried Tommy. “I _have_ to fight Billy Jenkins! He said—”

“Good-by!” said the New Year. “I shall come again when I am old to see whether you have been a good boy or a horrid one. Remember,

“Horrid boy makes horrid man;
You alone can change the plan.”

He turned away and opened the window. A cold wind blew in and swept the leaves out of Tommy’s hand. “Stop! stop!” he cried. “Tell me—” But the New Year was gone, and Tommy, staring after him, saw only his mother coming into the room. “Dear child!” she said. “Why, the wind is blowing everything about.”

“My leaves! My leaves!” cried Tommy; and jumping out of bed he looked all over the room, but he could not find one.

“Never mind,” said Tommy. “I can turn them just the same, and I mean to. I will not grow into a Horrid Man.” And he didn’t.

GRANDMOTHER’S ALPHABET

The Ant is so busy
It makes her quite dizzy,
She says that her head
Goes whirl-around-whizzy.

The Bunny is funny;
He cannot make honey,
Nor write with a pen,
Nor shoot with a gunny.

The Cow is not able
To sit at the table,
And so we must send her
To eat in the stable.

The Duck goes a-quacking
And clicking and clacking,
And eats all she finds
From beeswax to blacking.

The Elephant mighty
Can _not_ find his nighty!
It makes him feel nervous,
And fractious and flighty.

The Fish has no wish
To be put in a dish,
So he’s off like a flash
With a swishety-swish.

The Goose has no use
For an Indian pappoose,
So she looks at it sadly,
And says, “What’s the use?”

The Hen lays an egg,
And stands on one leg,
And says, “Cut-ker-dah-cut!
Observe me, I beg!”

The Ibis is pretty,
But not very witty;
And when he is tired
He plays with the kitty.

The Jaguar so cruel
Was killed in a duel,
And left his poor wife
To eat nothing but gruel.

The kind Kangaroo
Has so little to do,
That he talks to the Moolly
And tries to say “Moo!”

The Lizard goes sighing,
And sobbing and crying,
Because his poor tail
Got shrunk in the dyeing.

The Moose is all humpy,
And grumpy and lumpy,
And if you say, “Boo!”
He is off with a thumpy.

The Newt has a neighbor
Who fights with a sabre,
And when he has conquered
He beats on a tabor.

The Owl and the Oyster
Went off for a royster,
And when they came back
They were put in a cloister.

The Pig bought a carrot
To give to his parrot:
But Poll was so frightened
She hid in the garret.

The Queen in her crown
And velvety gown,
She went to the circus,
And laughed at the clown.

The Ram and the Rattle-
Snake had a great battle:
For each called the other
A tittlety-tattle.

The Stork had a fancy
To go to a dancy,
But people said, “No!
You are rather too prancy!”

The timorous Tapir
Was reading the paper,
And found that his aunt
Had married a draper.

The Unicorn tried
On a camel to ride,
But there came a sad fall
To himself and his pride.

The Viper is vain,
And cannot explain
Why people persist so
In calling him plain.

The Woodchuck is wealthy,
And hearty and healthy:
But sometimes his movements
Are snooping and stealthy.

The Xiphias perks his
Head up to see Xerxes:
And thinks him much finer
Than Tartars or Turkses.

The Yammering Yak
Has spots on his back:
He can’t get them off,
So he puts on a sacque.

The Zebra with zeal
Was cooking a meal:
But he found it was onions
And stopped with a squeal.

THE NEW LEAF

“Why are you crying, Little Cat?” asked Little Dog.

“Because my paws are so cold!” said Little Cat. “I have been digging in the snow and I cannot find one.”

“One what?” asked Little Dog.

“One new leaf.”

“What do you want of a new leaf?”

“I want to turn it over, but there just aren’t any to turn.”

“Of course there aren’t!” said Little Dog. “It is winter.”

“But Little Girl is going to find one,” said Little Cat. “I heard her mother say to her, ‘You really must turn over a new leaf!’ and she said, ‘I truthfully will, Mamma!’ and when Little Girl says she truthfully will she always does. Then her mother kissed her, and said everybody had to turn over new leaves now, and she had some of her own to turn, so she knew just how it was. The door shut then—on the tip of my tail, too—and I heard no more; but what do you suppose it means?”

Little Dog shook his head. “We must ask somebody,” he said. “Let me see! Great Old Dog is out for a walk, and Crosspatch Parrot bit me the last time I asked her a question.”

“I know,” said Little Cat. “We will ask Old Cat in the Barn. She knows a good many things, and if she isn’t catching rats—but she generally is—she will tell us.”

They found Old Cat in the Barn sitting on a truss of hay, washing herself. She listened to Little Cat’s story, and her green eyes twinkled.

“So you have been looking for new leaves under the snow!” she said.

“Yes,” said Little Cat. “First I looked on the trees, and there weren’t any there; so I thought it must be leaves of plants and things, so I scratched and dug till my poor paws were almost quite frozen, but not one single scrap of a leaf could I find.”

“Fffff!” said Old Cat in the Barn. “This barn is full of ’em!”

“Full of leaves!” cried Little Cat and Little Dog together. “What can you mean, Old Cat? We don’t call hay leaves!”

“How many rats have you caught this week?” asked Old Cat, turning to Little Dog.

“None!” said Little Dog. “The last rat I caught bit me horridly; besides, they are odious, vulgar beasts, and I don’t care to have anything to do with them.”

“Fffff!” said Old Cat. “Little Cat, how many mice have you caught in the kitchen this week?”

Little Cat hung her head. “I haven’t caught any,” she said. “I don’t care for mice, the flavor is too strong; I like cream better.”

“Ffffff! grrrr-yow!” said Old Cat; her green eyes shot out sparks, and her fur began to stand up. “Now, you two, listen to me! Why do you think the Big People keep you? Because you are soft and pretty and foolish? Not at all! They keep you because you are supposed to be useful. Your mother, Little Cat, was a hard-working, self-respecting mouser, who caught her daily mouse as regularly as she ate her daily bread and milk. Your father, Little Dog, hunted rats with me in this barn as long as he had legs to stand upon, and between us we kept the place in tolerable order. Great Old Dog cannot be expected to hunt at his age, and besides, he is too big; one might as well hunt with an ox. But since your parents died you two lazy children have done next to nothing, and what is the consequence? I am worked to skin and bone, and the mice are all over the house; I heard Cook say so. Mind what I say; no creature, with four legs or two, is worth his salt unless he earns it, in one way or another. Now, what have you to say for yourselves?”

“Miaouw!” said Little Cat. “I am very sorry, Old Cat.”

“Yap! Yap!” said Little Dog. “I am sorry too, Old Cat.”

“Very well!” said Old Cat in the Barn. “Then turn over a new leaf!”

“Miaouw!” “Yap!” “That is just what we want to do!” said Little Cat and Little Dog together; “but we can’t find any.”

“The fact is,” said Old Cat in the Barn, “it is one of the foolish ways of speaking that the Big People have. It just means, stop being bad and begin to be good. Now do you see?”

“Prrr!” said Little Cat; “now I see. I will go and catch a mouse this minute, Old Cat.”

“Wuff!” said Little Dog; “I see, too, and I will come and hunt rats with you, Old Cat.”

“Prrrrrrr!” said Old Cat in the Barn. “That is right! Go to work, like good children, and as I may have been rather short with you lately I will turn over a new leaf, too, and ask you both to supper with me in my hay-parlor. Cook gave me the bones of the Christmas goose, and we will have a great feast.”

MR. HOPPY FROG

Mr. Hoppy Frog
Was very, very funny;
Mr. Hoppy Frog
He had not any money.
So he could not buy
A squeaky woolly dog;
It made him sigh and sob and cry,
Poor Mr. Hoppy Frog!

Going down the lane,
He met with Mistress Kitty;
When she saw his pain,
Her heart was filled with pity.
“Mr. Hoppy Frog,
Oh! do not weep for that!
To buy your woolly dog
I’ll sell my Sunday hat.”

Bowing down before,
Said Mr. Hoppy Frog,
“I love you even more
Than squeaky woolly dog!
Come to church with me,
And wear your Sunday hat;
And we’ll through life be Frog and wife,
Sweet Mistress Kitty Cat!”

NEW YEAR’S DAY IN THE WOOD

“Do I look nice?” asked the Rabbit.

“Very nice!” said the Chipmunk; “that is, for a person who has no tail to speak of. But, of course, you cannot help that.”

The Rabbit looked into the looking-glass pond and saw his little white blob of a tail. “Don’t you want to lend me yours, just this once?” he asked. “I would take great care of it!”

“No, I cannot do that,” said the Chipmunk, “but I can lend you the tail of my late uncle. It is such a fine one that we have kept it to brush out the nest with.”

“The very thing!” said the Rabbit.

So the Chipmunk brought the tail of his late uncle and tied it on to the Rabbit’s stub.

“How does that look?” asked the Rabbit.

“Fine!” said the Chipmunk. “Now tell me how I look!”

“Well enough!” said the Rabbit. “Of course, you would look better if you had long ears.”

“Dear me!” said the Chipmunk; and he, too, looked into the looking-glass pond. “Haven’t you a spare pair that you could lend me?”

“Why, yes,” said the Rabbit. “There is a pair that belonged to my grandfather, hanging on the wall at home. I will get those.”

So the Rabbit got the ears and tied them on to the Chipmunk’s head.

“How do I look now?” asked the Chipmunk.

“Splendid!” said the Rabbit. “Now let us go and make our New Year’s calls. Where shall we go first?”

“I wish to call on Miss Woodchuck!” said the Chipmunk.

“So do I,” said the Rabbit. “We will go there first.” And off they went.

They came to Miss Woodchuck’s door and knocked, and she opened the door. “Mercy!” she cried. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“We are Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Chipmunk,” said the two friends, “and we have come to make you a New Year’s call.”

“More likely you have come to steal the nuts!” said the lady angrily. “I know Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Chipmunk well, and neither of you is either of them. Who ever heard of a long-tailed rabbit or a long-eared squirrel? Get along with you! You are frights, and probably thieves as well.” And she shut the door in their faces.

The two friends walked a little way in silence; then they stopped and looked at each other.

“You said I looked fine!” said the Rabbit.

“I—I meant the tail!” said the Chipmunk. “It is a fine tail. But you said I looked splendid!”

“I was thinking of the ears!” said the Rabbit. “They are splendid ears.”

They walked on until they came once more to the looking-glass pond. They looked at themselves; then they looked at each other; then, all in a minute, off came the long ears and tail.

“There!” cried the Chipmunk. “Now we look as we were meant to look; and I am bound to say, Rabbit, that it is much more becoming to you.”

“So it is to you!” replied the Rabbit. “Now shall we call on Miss Woodchuck again?”

“Come on!” said the Chipmunk.

So they went to Miss Woodchuck’s house, and knocked once more at the door, and Miss Woodchuck opened it. “Oh!” she cried. “Mr. Chipmunk and Mr. Rabbit, how do you do? I am so glad to see you. A happy New Year to you both!”

“The same to you, Ma’am!” said the Rabbit and the Chipmunk.

THE NEWS FROM ANGEL LAND

Oh! Harry Boy and Johnny Boy,
And little Libbety,
They were three happy children
As ever you did see:
One day there came another child;
Oh! he was sweet and small!
And round his cradle quickly came
The other children all.

“Oh! what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet—and yet!”

Now Harry’s eyes were diamond dark,
And John’s were starry blue,
And little Libbety was like
A rosebud dipped in dew.
They stood around the cradle white,
With rosy ribbons tied,
They looked into the baby’s face
And earnestly they cried:

“Oh! what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet—and yet!”

The baby gravely met the look
Of brown eyes and of blue:
And gravely opened his baby mouth,
And gravely said, “_A-Goo!_”
Harry and Johnny shook their heads:
“That word’s too deep for me!”
“I think I used to know it, though!”
Said little Libbety.

“But what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet—and yet!”

The baby said “_A-Goo!_” again
With meaning calm and deep:
And then he said, “Ba-be, ba-ba!”
And then he went to sleep.
The children sighed and turned away:
But none of all the three
Guessed, neither John nor Harry Boy,
Nor little Libbety,

_He had told_ the news from Angel Land,
Baby, baby,
He thought that they _might_ understand,
Maybe, maybe.
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know:
The children _ought_ not to forget,
And yet—and yet!

THE BOASTFUL DONKEY

(Adapted)

Once upon a time there was a donkey who lived in a field where there was no pond; so he had never seen his own image, and he thought he was the biggest and strongest and handsomest creature in the world.

One day a lion came through the field, and, being a polite beast, stopped to greet the donkey. “Good morning, friend!” he said. “What a fine day this is!”

“Fine enough, I dare say!” said the donkey. “I never think about the weather. I have other things to think about.”

“Indeed!” said the lion. “May I ask what things?”

“None of your business!” said the donkey rudely; and he set up a loud braying, thinking to frighten the lion away.

“Why do you bray?” asked the lion.

“Bray!” cried the donkey. “That was not braying—it was roaring!”

“If you think I don’t know braying from roaring,” said the lion, still politely, “you are mistaken. That was a bray.”

“Very well!” shouted the donkey. “If that was, this shall not be!” and he uttered a long and loud “Hee-haw!” and kicked up his heels in angry pride. “What do you call that?” he asked proudly.

“I call it a bray,” replied the lion; “and a very ugly one. You see, after all, you are a donkey; look at the length of your ears!”

“How dare you?” cried the donkey. “My ears are the finest in the world, everybody says so. And as for roaring, if I have not scared you yet, just listen to me now!” And flinging up his heels again he bellowed till his own long ears tingled with the sound.

He expected the lion to be terrified, but the lion merely smiled.

“You certainly can make a most hideous noise,” he said; “but when all is said and done, it is only a bray. If you really wish to know how a roar sounds I shall be happy to oblige you.”

The King of Beasts then began to lash his tail and pretended to fall into a great passion. His eyes flashed fire, his tawny mane bristled; he opened his great mouth, and a roar like thunder filled the air. The donkey, after one terrified look, took to his heels and scampered off as fast as he could go, tumbled into a ditch, and lay there all day, not daring to move for fear.

The lion went on his way smiling. “It is a pity,” he said, “for a person to live in a place where he cannot see what he looks like.”

THE CAT’S NAME

Tom had a cat who was so white that he named her Snow. He loved Snow and thought her the best cat in the world, but she would not come when she was called.

One day Snow went and played in the coal-bin, and when she came out she was quite black.

“See, Mother,” said Tom: “Snow cannot be Snow now, for she is black. What shall I name her?”

“You might name her Soot!” said his mother.

So he named Snow Soot. Snow did not care, and Soot did not care, but neither of them came when she was called.

One day Snow saw a tin pot on the shed floor, and Soot thought there might be cream in it; and Snow went to see, and Soot fell in, and it was green paint, and when she came out she was all green.

“See, Mother,” said Tom. “My cat is not white now, so she cannot be Snow, and she is not black, so she cannot be Soot. What shall I name her now?”

“You might name her Grass,” said his mother, “till you have washed her; but I would wash her soon if I were you.”

So, Tom named the cat Grass. Snow did not care, and Soot did not care, and Grass did not care, but none of them came when they were called.

“How can I wash her,” asked Tom, “if she will not come when she is called?”

“Let me try!” said his mother. So she called, “Puss! Puss! Puss!” and the cat came running as fast as she could.

“Why-ee!” said Tom. “I think her name must be Puss.”

“I think so, too,” said his mother.

SUPPITY SIPPITY!

Suppity, sippity!
Milk for my Pippity,
Milk for my Pippity Poppity Boy:
From a big jug of it
Pour a full mug of it,
Sip it and sup it in comfort and joy.

Sippity, soppity,
Bread for my Poppety,
Crusty and crumby and tender and white:
Now for a bowl of it!
Milk for the whole of it!
Sippity, suppity, morning and night.

JOHNNY’S RED SHOES AND WHITE STOCKINGS

For every day, Johnny always wears blue; blue rompers in the morning, when he is playing in the sand box or helping Maggie make bread in the kitchen, and a blue sailor suit in the afternoon, when he goes “walk-a-walk-a” with Mamma. But on Sunday afternoon he goes walk-a-walk-a with Daddy (but they take Mamma too!), and _then_ he has on his white sailor suit, and his white stockings and red shoes. Aunt Kitty brought him the shoes, and when they came there was a china cat inside one, and a tin frog inside the other. They were surprises, the cat and the frog; Aunt Kitty likes to give surprises.

Well! one Sunday morning Mamma and Daddy were going to church, and Maggie was very busy, so she put Johnny in the sand box, and told him to play like a good boy, and he did. He made two forts, one with the red tin pail and one with the blue tin pail; and then he hammered on them with the old kitchen spoon and said, “Bang! bang! bang!” and that made a battle. While he was having the battle, the Boy Over the Fence came and looked through the pickets, and said, “Hurnh! I’ve got new shoes on!” Johnny looked, and he had; new brown shoes, that tied in front. So Johnny said: “I have new shoes too, only they are not on; they are up-stairs, and they are red.”

“They ain’t!” said the Boy Over the Fence. He was not a very nice boy.

“They are!” said Johnny. “Bright red, with wankle buttons. Aunt Kitty bringed them, and there was a cat in one, and a frog in the other, and they were s’prises. And white stockings too, so there!” Then he stopped, for he was out of breath.

“Hurnh!” said the Boy Over the Fence. “Let’s see ’em!”

Johnny trotted up the back stairs and brought down the white stockings and the red shoes; they were laid out on the chair, with the white suit, all ready for him to put on. He held them up so that the Boy Over the Fence could see them, and said, “So there!” again; it was all he could think of to say.

And the Boy Over the Fence said, “Hurnh!” again, as if that was all _he_ could think of to say.

Just then Maggie opened the kitchen door and said: “Come in this minute of time, Johnny boy, and get your luncheon! see the nice cracker and the lovely mug of milk Maggie has for ye!”

Johnny was hungry, and he dropped the red shoes and white stockings and ran in to have his luncheon. While he was eating it, Maggie told him the story of the Little Rid Hin; (Mamma says it is “Red Hen,” really, but Maggie always says it the other way, and Johnny likes it better); and then she said it was time for his nap, and she whisked him up-stairs and tucked him up in his crib and told him to go to sleep like a good boy, and he went.

By and by he woke up, and Mamma came in to dress him for dinner. She washed his face and hands, and brushed his hair, and put on his white sailor suit; and then she said, “Why, where ever are the shoes and stockings?”

She looked under the chair, and on the bureau, and under the bed. “Johnny,” she said, “I cannot find your red shoes and white stockings. I put them here with your suit, and now they are gone.”

“Oh!” said Johnny.

“Do you know where they are, dear?” asked Mamma.

“Oh!” said Johnny again. “I think—they are in—the sand box!”

“_In the sand box!_” said Mamma.

“The Boy Over the Fence said they wasn’t red,” said Johnny; “and they was, and I gotted them and showed him, and then Maggie called me, and—and—I think that is all I know.”

“My goodness!” said Mamma. And she ran down-stairs and out into the yard to the sand box. But no red shoes or white stockings were there. Mamma looked all about carefully. There was the red tin pail, and the blue tin pail, both turned upside down, and the old kitchen spoon laid across them. And there were the marks of Johnny’s moccasins, and—oh! there were the marks of another pair of shoes, a little bigger than Johnny’s, with heels to them.

“My goodness!” said Mamma. “You don’t suppose—” but she did not say what you didn’t suppose.

She looked over toward the next yard. There was no one there, but there were muddy footmarks leading from the fence to the sand box, and sandy footmarks leading back from the sand box to the fence.

“Now,” said Mamma, “I am afraid—” but she did not say what she was afraid of.

Just as she was stepping out of the sand box, her foot struck against the red tin pail and knocked it over; and—what _do_ you think? Inside of the pail was one red shoe and one white stocking.

“My goodness!” said Mamma again. Then she turned over the blue tin pail, and there was the other red shoe and the other white stocking.

Mamma looked very severely over the fence, but no one was there; so she took the shoes and stockings up-stairs and showed them to Johnny. “Oh!” said Johnny.

She told him where she had found them; and then she put them away in the drawer, and brought out Johnny’s old brown moccasins and a pair of rather old brown stockings. “You shall wear these to-day!” said Mamma.

“But why?” said Johnny. “I like my red shoes and white stockings best.”

“But you took them out and left them in the sand box!” said Mamma.

“But I did forget!” said Johnny.

“But this will help you to remember!” said Mamma.

And it did.

THE FOOLISH TORTOISE

(Adapted)

Close beside the Pool of the Blue Lotus lived the two geese White-Wings and Gray-Back, and in the pool lived the tortoise Shelly-Neck, and the three were good friends. One night Shelly-Neck heard two fishermen talking together beside the pool. “To-morrow morning,” they said, “we will lay our nets and catch that old tortoise and cook him for our dinner.”

Shelly-Neck was much frightened, and when the men were gone he called his friends the geese, and begged them to save him.

“We will save you,” said White-Wings.

“But you must do just what we tell you to do!” said Gray-Back.

“I will! I will!” cried poor Shelly-Neck.

The two geese waddled about, looking till they found a stick. “Now,” said White-Wings, “take this in your mouth and hold on tight!”

“And remember,” said Gray-Back, “that once you have taken hold you must not let go till we bid you.”

The tortoise promised and took hold on the middle of the stick with his strong jaws. Then White-Wings took one end of the stick in his bill and Gray-Back took the other, and they flew high up in the air over the roofs of the houses.

All the people came running to see this strange sight. “Look! look!” cried one. “See the flying tortoise!”

“Ho!” said another, who was one of the fishermen. “He has no wings; soon he will forget and open his mouth, and then down he will come and we shall have him for dinner.”

“I will not let go! You shall not have me for dinner!” cried Shelly-Neck.

Crash! Down he fell on the hard ground. When the fishermen picked him up he was dead and they did have him for dinner.

White-Wings and Gray-Back flew sadly away. “We did our best,” they said; “but a fool cannot be saved from his folly.”

THE GARDEN GATE

Early and late, early and late,
Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It isn’t a gate; it’s a motor car!
I’m travelling fast and I’m travelling far.
I toot my horn and I turn my wheel,
And nobody knows how grand I feel!”

Early and late, early and late,
Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It isn’t a gate; it’s a great big ship!
I’m off to the Pole on a ’sploring trip.
I’ll ride a white bear, holding on by his hair,
And I’ll hurry him up with a whaleskin whip.”

Early and late, early and late,
Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It isn’t a gate; it’s a big balloon!
I’m going to sail till I reach the moon.
I’ll play with the Man as hard as I can,
And I’ll stir up the stars with a great horn spoon.”

Early and late, early and late,
Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It _isn’t_ a gate; it’s—” off runs he,
His mother is calling, “Come in to tea!”
It’s a wonderful gate, but it just isn’t able
To turn itself into a supper-table.

LITTLE CAT’S VALENTINE

Great Old Dog was taking a nap before the parlor fire. He lay stretched out on the white bear skin, and reached almost from end to end, for he was a very great old dog indeed. By-and-by he woke up, and saw Little Dog sitting in front of him looking very melancholy.

“What’s the matter, young one?” asked Great Old Dog. “Where’s Little Cat?”

“I don’t know!” said Little Dog dolefully. “We don’t speak to each other any more.”

“Wuff!” said Great Old Dog. “Since when?”

“Since half an hour.”

“Wuff!” said Great Old Dog. “Why?”

“She was horrid to me,” said Little Dog, “about a bone; and—and then I was horrid to her.”

“And you think two wrongs make a right?” said Great Old Dog. “They don’t. That is monkey arithmetic, not fit for respectable dogs and cats. My advice to you is to make it up as soon as you can.”

“But she says she will never speak to me again!” said Little Dog piteously.

Great Old Dog yawned so wide that Little Dog could have got inside his mouth and turned around.

“She will!” he said.

“How do you know, Great Old Dog?”

“Wuff! I know cats.”

“I think she has gone out to see Old Cat in the Barn,” Little Dog continued. “Perhaps she may live out there and never come back.”

“She’ll come back,” said Great Old Dog. “She will miss you just as much as you miss her. Make it up, I tell you! Quarrelling is the silliest thing there is,” and he went to sleep again.

“Oh, dear!” said Little Dog. “I do miss Little Cat dreadfully, and the door is shut. Oh, oh dear!”

Little Girl was sitting at the desk, doing things with gold and silver paper. Little Dog went up to her and asked very prettily to be let out; but Little Girl was not so clever as usual.

“What is the matter, Little Dog?” she asked. “Do you want a valentine?”

“Please let me out!” said Little Dog; but she thought he said “Yap!”

“Listen, Little Dog!” she said. “Will this do?” She took up a frilled sheet with gold hearts on it and read:

“‘If your heart is true as mine,
Come and be my valentine.’”

“_Please_ let me out!” said Little Dog; but she thought he said “Yap!”

“This is Valentine’s Day, Little Dog,” Little Girl went on. “You ought to send a valentine to Little Cat.

“‘If your heart is true as mine,
Come and be my valentine.’

Why, Little Dog, you shall be her valentine. Come here, sir!”

Little Girl took a sheet of lace paper, crimped it into a frill, and tucked it into Little Dog’s collar. It tickled him woefully, but he said not a word, for he loved Little Girl almost next to Little Cat.

“You are lovely, Little Dog!” said Little Girl. “You are the best valentine I have made yet. Wait now!” She made a big star of gold paper and pinned it to his collar; then she made two little stars and pasted them on the tips of his ears.

“You are a _lovely_ valentine!” she cried, clapping her hands. “And there is Little Cat mewing to be let in this minute. Now when I open the door, Little Dog, go straight up to her and say:

“‘If your heart is true as mine,
Let me be your valentine!’”

She opened the door and Little Cat started to come in, but when she saw Little Dog she stopped and looked shy.

Little Dog went up to her and said:

“If your heart is true as mine, Little Cat, I am sorry I was horrid about the bone; let me be your valentine and I want to make up.”

“Oh! Little Dog,” said Little Cat, “I was horrid first, and I was just coming to say I was sorry. Let’s never quarrel again, Little Dog; it is so lonely!”

“Dear little things!” said Little Girl. “They are rubbing noses and telling each other something. Oh, dear! and I was cross to Brother this morning; I’m going to find him this minute and say I am sorry and ask him to be my valentine.”

TO MY VALENTINE

Dear, will you be mine,
My little Valentine?
I’ll meet you, and greet you,
And dress you up so fine!
A cooky for your hat,
And a pancake for your coat;
We’ll hollow out a pumpkin shell
And use it for a boat.
Dear, will you be mine,
My little Valentine?
I’ll meet you, and treat you,
And take you out to dine.
We’ll have gold and silver fish
In a gold and silver dish.
We’ll serve them up with diamond sauce
And then how they will shine!

MARCH

Blow, March, blow!
Go, Winter, go!
Drive away,
Strive away,
Blow, March, blow!

Blow, March, blow!
Grow, grass, grow!
Crocus-cup,
Twinkle up;
Blow, March, blow!

Blow, March, blow!
Flow, water, flow!
River, run,
Just for fun,
Blow, March, blow!

SOMETHING NEW

There’s a new thing at our house:
It’s not a cat; it’s not a mouse;
It’s not a bird; it’s not a dog;

It’s not a monkey or a frog;
A sweeter thing than any other;
It’s just a little Baby Brother!

MR. SPARROW’S BATH

One day Johnny followed Mamma up into the attic, where there are all kinds of pleasant things, and he saw a very pleasant thing indeed. It was a small dish, white with pink roses all over it; really and truly, it was the prettiest dish that ever was. Johnny said, “O-o-oh! may I have that dish for mine?”

Mamma looked, and then she took the dish in her hand and thought a minute. Mamma always likes to be sure about things before she says “Yes!” for fear it might not really be “yes” after all. But now she nodded her head, and said, “Yes, Johnny, you may have it.”

“O-oh!” said Johnny. “For my welly own?”

“For your very own. The rest of the set is broken, and I have just kept this dish because it is so pretty. Now you may take it down into the nursery, and have it for a bath for Flora.”

Flora was a small doll, all china, and her clothes came off, so she could have a bath any time, and Johnny often gave her one. Now he gave her one in the rosy-posy dish, and it was just exactly the right size, and Johnny was so pleased, and said, “Oh, thank you, _dear_ Mamma!” without having to be told. (Sometimes he forgets to say “thank you,” but he is getting to be quite good about it.)

The next time Johnny went down-stairs, he took the doll’s bath to show to Maggie, and she said ’twas the pick of the world for a dish, and asked Johnny to lave her bake a cake in it; but Johnny said no, not now, though perhaps by and by, for now he must take it out to show to Muffy. Muffet was out in the sand-box, and when Johnny showed her the dish she mewed and rubbed against his legs, and seemed to want something very much.

“Maggie,” said Johnny, “Muffy wants something! What do you suppose it is?”

“Sure she might be wanting a sup o’ milk!” said Maggie. “Bring me here the grand dish and we’ll give the crature a sup in itself, and won’t she be the proud kitty!” that is the way Maggie talks; it is a nice, funny way, Johnny thinks.

Well! so Maggie filled the pretty dish with milk, and Johnny set it down in the sand box before Muffet, and she lapped it up, every single drop, purring all the time. Johnny was watching her when Mamma called him in to take his nap. Muffet had not quite finished, so he left the dish standing, and ran in to Mamma, and then he went for his nap. When he woke up it was raining hard, and it rained all the afternoon, so he did not go out again, but stayed in the nursery building a Choo Choo House. The next morning was bright and clear, and the very first thing Johnny thought of, when he had had his bath, and Mamma was dressing him, was the rosy posy dish.

“I wants my diss,” said Johnny, “to give Flora her bath!”

So Mamma looked for the dish, all over the nursery, but it was not to be found.

“Where did you leave it, Johnny Boy?” said Mamma. “Think a minute!”

So Johnny thought a minute, and then he remembered. “I left it in the sand box,” he said. “Muffy was very thirsty, and she was drinking out of it, and you called me, and she hadn’t finished, and so, you see—and so, you see—”

And Mamma said she saw. Then she looked out of the window, and said yes, there was the dish, right in the sand box, beside the red tin pail and the blue tin pail and the old kitchen spoon. Then she said, “Oh! oh, Johnny, come here and look!”

So Johnny went to the window, and stood on his tippy-toe-toes, and looked; and what do you think he saw? A little brown sparrow had come fluttering down, and was drinking out of the rosy posy dish. (You see, it had rained all night, so the dish was full of water.) He perched on the edge, and dipped his little beak in, and drank and drank; he must have been very thirsty. And then—oh! oh! what did he do but hop down _into_ the dish, and begin taking his bath! He splashed, and he shook himself, and rustled his feathers, and then he splashed again. “Oh!” said Johnny. “Oh! Mamma, he is doing it all himself. Nobody told him to, not one bit.”

“No, indeed!” said Mamma. “He likes to take his bath and be clean, just as Johnny does. He knows it feels good to be clean.”

“Mamma!” said Johnny. “I want to tell you something. Shall we have something else for Flora, and let the rosy posy dish be the sparrow’s bath, his ownty donty?”

“Suppose we do!” said Mamma. And they did.

LITTLE GIRL

When Little Girl wakes in the morning gay
Then everybody is glad;
The cat in the kitchen sits purring away,
And the puppy dog barks like mad.
The bell in the steeple turns head over heels,
That’s _his_ way of showing how glad he feels;
And all the wide world seems to say,
“Our dear Little Girl is happy to-day!”

When Little Girl wakes in the morning sad,
Then everybody must mourn;
The little birds sigh, and the big birds cry,
And the scarecrow sobs in the corn.
The fishes all pull their hankies out,
And go and weep with the poor hornpout,
And the clock says, “Tock! I’m sorry to say
Our dear Little Girl is sad to-day!”

So, Little Girl, when you go beddy at night,
Put a smile right under your pillow,
And when you wake up, just slip it on tight,
And wear it all day with a will, oh!
Then the sun will shine and the wind will blow,
And the bells will ring, “Ho! ho! ho! ho!”
For in all the wide world there’s naught can be
So sweet as a happy child to see!

HOW MR. PEACOCK WENT TO THE FAIR

(Adapted)

Mr. Peacock was proud. He had a fine long train, a splendid crest, and the gayest blue-green coat that ever was seen; and all day long he would strut up and down the barnyard and say: “See what a beauty I am!”

The geese and ducks and turkeys were much displeased at this. “Beauty, indeed!” they said. “Of what use is your beauty? Can it hatch eggs? Tell us that!” and they turned their backs and walked away.

“These are stupid creatures!” said Mr. Peacock. “Why should I stay among them? I will go to the Fair, for there people will see my beauty and admire it.”

So he spread his tail like a fan, raised his crested head and strutted off down the road to the Fair. Pretty soon he met some young men who also were going to the Fair. “Aha!” said Mr. Peacock. “These people will admire me!” and he strutted more than ever.

“Look!” said the young men. “What a fine peacock, and what splendid feathers he has! They are just what we want for our hats.” They surrounded Mr. Peacock, and, spite of his screams of rage and terror, tore out three or four of his finest tail feathers and went away laughing. Presently he fell in with a large flock of geese which a boy was driving to the Fair to sell. He spread his tail and tried to push his way to the head of the flock, but they took no notice of him and waddled steadily on, keeping close together.

“Make way, you stupid creatures!” said Mr. Peacock. “Keep your dirty feet off my fine train!”

“Quack!” said an old gray goose, the grandmother of the flock. “Keep your train out from under our feet, Mr. Strut! Who asked you to join our company?”

“Join your company, indeed!” cried Mr. Peacock. “Get out of my way, you rude, clumsy thing, and learn how to treat your betters!” and he gave the goose a hard peck.