Chapter II: Part 2

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When the other geese, who loved their grandmother, saw this, they all fell upon Mr. Peacock and beat and pecked and hustled him till he ran screaming away, dragging his tail behind him.

He was now in a sad way, covered with dust, and many of his finest feathers were torn and broken; but still, when he came to the Fair he spread his tail, reared his crest and made as much of himself as he could.

“I am still handsomer than any one else!” he said, “and people will be sure to admire me.”

“Look there!” said a man. “There is a peacock. Let us kill and stuff him and add him to our show.” And he chased Mr. Peacock, who ran off screaming with terror. Coming around a corner he ran into a large dog who was coming the other way.

“Get out of my way!” screamed Mr. Peacock.

“Get out of mine!” growled Mr. Dog, and he grabbed Mr. Peacock by the neck, shook him hard and tore out a great mouthful of feathers.

More dead than alive, the poor Peacock ran and ran and ran, and never stopped till he got home.

The geese and turkeys looked at him in great surprise. “Who is this wretched, shabby bird?” they asked each other. “It cannot possibly be Mr. Peacock?”

“Yes,” sobbed the poor creature, “it is I; but I have left my pride behind. If you will only let me stay with you I will do my best to hatch eggs.”

But he never could.

LITTLE BOY

Mother, the hen is cackling;
What is she trying to say?
She says, “Cluck! cluck! I humbly beg
To tell you all I’ve laid an egg
For Little Boy to-day!”
Oh! oh! is it so?
Truly now, I did not know!
But in return what shall I give?
“Be kind, be kind, to all that live!”

Mother, the cow is lowing;
What is she trying to say?
“Milk and cream and butter and cheese,
Good people, I have brought you these
For Little Boy to-day.”
Oh! oh! is it so?
Truly now, I did not know!
But in return what shall I give?
“Be kind, be kind, to all that live.”

Mother, the sheep is bleating;
What is she trying to say?
She says “I’ll give my fleecy wool
To make warm clothes for play and school
For Little Boy to-day.”
Oh! oh! is it so?
Truly now, I did not know!
But in return what shall I give?
“Be kind, be kind, to all that live.”

FAITHFUL TRUSTY

(Adapted)

“Where are you going in such haste, friend?” said Trusty, the shepherd’s Dog, to a great wolf that was jogging along the same road.

“If I were sure you would not betray my secret,” said the Wolf, with a sly leer, “I would let you know.”

“You need not fear me; I shall tell no one a word of the matter,” said Trusty.

“Well, then,” said the Wolf, “you must know, as I was prowling around yonder cottage I saw the farmer’s wife put a fine baby into the cradle, and heard her say: ‘Lie still, my darling, and go to sleep, while I run down to the village to buy bread for your father’s supper.’ As soon as the babe is asleep I shall go and fetch it: it is fair and fat, and will make a nice supper for me and my cubs.”

“Then,” said Trusty, “I would advise you to wait a little longer, for I saw the baby’s mother step into the next house to speak to a neighbor: take care lest you are seen.”

The Wolf thanked the Dog for his good advice, for he did not know that the baby belonged to Trusty’s master; and he said he would take heed and keep close.

Then Trusty ran home with all the speed he could. The door was ajar, and the innocent baby was fast asleep in the cradle; so he lay down on the mat behind the door and listened for the coming of the Wolf. It was not long before he heard the tread of the Wolf’s feet on the gravel path, and in another minute the savage beast was in the room and stealing with cautious steps to the cradle; but just as he was preparing to seize the poor baby Trusty sprang upon him and after a fierce struggle laid him dead on the floor.

The first thing the mother saw on her return was the Wolf dead at the foot of the cradle, while the baby, unhurt, lay soundly sleeping on his little pillow, and faithful Trusty watching beside him. She flew to look the little one all over, to make sure that he was safe and sound, and then, oh! how she patted and fondled the good Dog who had saved her darling’s life! She called in all the neighbors, and told them what Trusty had done, and from that time he became the pet of the whole village, and all the mothers wished they had such a dog to watch over their children.

THE GRATEFUL CRANE

(Adapted)

Once a poor Crane was caught in a net, and could not get out. She fluttered and flapped her wings, but it was of no use, she was held fast.

“Oh!” she cried, “what will become of me if I cannot break this net? The hunter will come and kill me, or else I shall die of hunger, and if I die who will care for my poor little young ones in the nest? They must perish also if I do not come back to feed them.”

Now Trusty (the same Trusty who saved the baby’s life) was in the next field and heard the poor Crane’s cries. He jumped over the fence, and seizing the net in his teeth quickly tore it in pieces. “There!” he said. “Now fly back to your young ones, ma’am, and good luck to you all!”

The Crane thanked him a thousand times. “I wish all dogs were like you!” she said. “And I wish I could do something to help you, as you have helped me.”

“Who knows?” said Trusty. “Some day I may need help in my turn, and then you may remember me. My old mother used to say to me:

“To do a kind deed wherever we can,
Is good for bird and beast and man.”

Then Trusty went back to mind his master’s sheep, and Mrs. Crane flew to her nest and fed and tended her crane babies.

Some time after this she was flying homeward and stopped at a clear pool to drink. As she did so she heard a sad, moaning sound, and looking about, whom should she see but good Trusty, lying on the ground, almost at the point of death. She flew to him. “Oh, my good, kind friend,” she cried, “what has happened to you?”

“A bone has stuck in my throat,” said the Dog, “and I am choking to death.”

“Now, thank Heaven for my long bill!” said Mrs. Crane. “Open your mouth, good friend, and let me see what I can do.”

Trusty opened his mouth wide; the Crane darted in her long, slender bill, and with a few good tugs loosened the bone and finally got it out.

“Oh! you kind, friendly bird!” cried the Dog, as he sprang to his feet and capered joyfully about. “How shall I ever reward you for saving my life?”

“Did you not save mine first?” said Mrs. Crane. “Shake paws and claws, friend Trusty! I have only learned your mother’s lesson, which you taught me, that

“To do a kind deed wherever we can,
Is good for bird and beast and man.”

THE KING OF THE FEN

(Adapted)

“I will be King of the Fen!” said Croaker the Frog, leaping out of the brook upon the dry land.

“You King, indeed!” said Slyboots, a fine, fat Field Mouse with a long tail and bright eyes, jumping out of his hole at the foot of a hazel bush which grew near. “I am larger than you, and I will be King, and the frogs shall be my subjects and cut rushes and bring me dry moss to line my nest.” And Slyboots strutted about and gave himself a great many airs.

“I will never consent to be ruled by a Mouse,” replied the Frog with a disdainful air. “How finely King Slyboots would sound!”

“Quite as well as King Croaker!” retorted the Mouse.

Then the Frog flew into a great passion and hopped so high and croaked so loud that the Mouse crept a little farther from him (for frogs, like children, look very ugly when they are out of temper); and Slyboots did not much like the idea of being touched by his cold paws, and he said to himself: “In spite of this Frog’s looking so fierce and talking so loud I should not wonder if he were a coward at heart.”

So he turned to the Frog and said: “As we both wish to be King of the Fen I know of no way of ending the dispute but by fighting, and the one that wins the fight shall be King over the other.”

Then the Frog said: “Very well! We will each bring a friend to see fair play. To-morrow at twelve o’clock I shall be ready to take the field; and if you fail to meet me here I shall be King of the Fen, and the mice shall be my servants.” For Croaker thought Slyboots was braver in word than in deed, as cowards are often the foremost to talk of fighting.

Then the Frog retired among the bulrushes and the Mouse ran home to his hole under the nut tree.

The two rivals awoke next morning by break of day to prepare for the combat, which was to take place at noon. The Frog was very much afraid of Slyboots’s sharp teeth and claws, so he fell to work and made a shield from the bark of an old willow tree, and then he plucked a long bulrush for a spear. “Now,” said he, “I am well armed: I have a shield to defend myself and a spear to attack the enemy with. If I had but a brave friend to be my second in the fight I should do very well.”

“I will be your second,” said a great Pike, raising his head above the water; “I will lie close to the bank among these rushes, and if you break your spear come to me and I will procure you another.”

The Frog was well pleased at this offer. “I shall beat Slyboots in a little time,” said he, “with such weapons and so good a friend.”

Slyboots in the meantime was not idle; he sharpened his teeth and his claws and chose a light twig from the hazel bush and said: “I only want now a friend to be my second and see fair play.” A great Hawk, which was hovering near, said: “Mr. Slyboots, you may command my services at any hour you please to name.”

Now Slyboots was somewhat afraid of the Hawk, for he thought he had rather a hungry look about the eyes and beak, but he dared not refuse his offer lest he should give offence; so he thanked him for his kindness, and at the appointed hour they went to the spot where the Frog was waiting for them. The Pike lay in the hole among the rushes and the Hawk sat on the bough of a tree close by.

The Frog and the Mouse looked at one another for a few minutes and shook their weapons. At last the Hawk and the Pike gave signal for the fight to begin. The battle was long and fierce on both sides, and for some time it was doubtful which would win. At last the Frog seemed to gain ground, but at the very minute that he seemed to be winning his spear broke in pieces.

“Alas!” croaked he in a tone of dismay, “what shall I do? Who will give me another weapon?”

“Here is one,” cried his friend, the Pike, from among the rushes.

The Frog gave a leap of joy and sprang toward the Pike, who, opening his mouth, quickly put an end to the battle by swallowing the hapless Frog at one mouthful.

“I am King of the Fen now!” cried Slyboots with a joyful squeak. “Long live your Majesty!” exclaimed the crafty Hawk. As he spoke he darted from the tree and, pouncing upon the new monarch, bore him away in his claws and put an end to his reign and his life at the same moment.

THE SWING

Hey, the old swing!
And ho! the old swing!
And hey, the old swing in the orchard!
It groans and it creaks,
It squawks and it squeaks,
You’d think ’twas most cruelly tortured.

Hey! the old swing,
And ho! the old swing,
All under the apple trees swaying:
“Oh dear! how they shake me!
They surely will break me!”
It seems to be constantly saying.

Hey! the old swing,
And ho! the old swing;
For all its lamenting and sighing,
Just give it a push,
And it’s off with a rush,
Up into the apple-boughs flying.

Hey! the old swing,
And ho! the old swing;
It’s off and away with a will now;
Old swing, stop your moaning,
Your dreary o-honing!
I’m sure you’re enjoying it still, now!

THE TREES

“Summer is gone!” said the Trees. “The fall of the year is come, and it is time for us to dress up and be gay.”

“I shall wear red!” said a Maple. “Sunset red is my color.”

“Yellow for me!” said another. “My dress shall be like pure gold.”

“I choose purple!” said the Ash. “It is the color of Kings, and suits me very well.”

“What will you wear?” they all said to the little Fir.

“I have no other dress!” said the Fir sadly. “I must wear my plain green frock.”

“Te hee!” laughed the Maples and Birches and Ash trees, rustling their leaves and nodding their heads. “She has but one dress! What a poor thing she is!”

But the old Pine waved his dark branches and said: “Hush! hush! I know what I know!”

“We know, too,” cried the Maples. “We know that in snow-time Santa Claus comes, and chooses the finest tree, and dresses it in gold and silver and hangs stars all over it. That is why we wish to be fine and gay.”

“Hush! hush!” said the old Pine. “I know what I know.”

So the trees put on their gay robes, gold and red and purple, and each one was finer than the rest; only the little Fir and the great old Pine stayed just as they were, in their plain green dresses.

Now it grew cold, and a bleak wind blew through the forest. The trees shivered and drew their bright robes close around them. Colder still it grew, and snow fell, and the wind moaned; one day Jack Frost came in his silver coat and touched the bright leaves with his shining brush, and they curled up and turned brown, and, one by one, fell rustling to the ground. Soon the poor Maples and Birches and the purple Ash who thought he looked like a King stood all bare, and the wind blew through their branches, and they shook with the cold. They looked at the Fir and wished that they had her warm, green dress. Now came Santa Claus, driving his reindeer team through the forest, cracking his whip and jingling his bells. He looked at the trees with his bright eyes.

“Ho! ho!” he said as he saw the Maples and Birches. “What a beggarly set! Why, they have not a cloak among them to keep them warm. These will never do for me.”

But now he saw the little Fir, and a smile came over his face.

“This is the tree for me!” he cried. “Will you come with me, little Fir, and be the children’s tree, and make many hearts glad?”

“That I will!” said the little Fir gladly.

So Santa Claus took her away and dressed her in gold and silver and hung bright stars all over her; and she became the Christmas Tree, and many hearts were glad because of her.

“Hush! hush!” said the old Pine. “I knew what I knew.”

THE LEPRECHAUN

“Come tell, Uncle Shaun,” says Rafferty’s Pat,
“On Patrick’s Day what would they be at
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say?
Would they have the procession, as we do here,
Banners and shamrocks far and near,
Or would they do annything annyways queer,
In Ireland o’er the say?”

“Musha now! wisha now! mind what ye’re at!
Lind me the ears of ye, Rafferty’s Pat!
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say,
One thing on St. Patrick’s Day does be,
If a boy should be havin’ the luck to see,
He’s safe to climb to the top of the tree,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“For my ould grandmother told me so,
And wisha! but she was the one to know,
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say.
‘To make your fortune now, Nelligan’s Shaun,
There’s just one place where you must be gaun,
And that’s to the dance of the Leprechaun,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“‘The Leprechaun’s the height o’ me thumb;
He’s sharp as a pin and complate as a crumb;
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say,
On Patrick’s Night he be givin’ a dance,
And oh! it’s the boy would be havin’ the chance
Could he hold him still wid the stren’th of his glance,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“‘He be askin’ all manner of beastie and bird,
And faix! they be comin’, I give ye me word;
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say,
The rabbit would come wid his new shillelagh,
The fox and the goat would be footin’ it gaily,
The squirrel be there wid his bush for a taily,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“‘The pig brought the music, and he for to play
On a fine concertina’ (my grandmother say),
‘In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say,
Himself would be dancin’ to bate all the rest,
For all the world knows how the pig do be blest
Wid St. Patrick, long life to him, likin’ him best,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“‘The Leprechaun he be judge of the dance,
And while he be watchin’ it, then is your chance,
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say;
For fix him once wid the stren’th of your eye,
Ye can hold him there till he’s like to die,
And he’ll give ye gold for your life’s supply,
In Ireland o’er the say.’”

“And oh! Uncle Shaun,” says Rafferty’s Pat,
“And did ye be goin’ there? tell about that,
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland o’er the say!”
“Musha now! wisha now! sure but I tried,
And I lay all night on the cold hill-side,
But ’twas only mesilf that was like to have died,
In Ireland o’er the say.

“But mind what I’m tellin’ ye, Rafferty’s Pat!
Ye’d always be thinkin’ of what ye were at,
In Ireland, in Ireland,
In Ireland by the say.
And on Patrick’s Night if ye hear the pig play,
Or meet wid a rabbit a-dancin’ so gay,
Sure the Leprechaun is not far away,
In Ireland o’er the say.”

THE DEER AND THE CROW

(Adapted)

Once upon a time in a deep wood lived a Deer and a Crow, who were great friends and loved each other dearly. One day, as the Deer was roaming about alone, he met Small-Wit, the Jackal.

Small-Wit was hungry, and when he saw the fine fat Deer he said to himself: “Oho! if only I could have this fat Deer for my supper!” So he went up to the Deer, hanging his head and looking very sad.

“Who are you, Friend?” asked the Deer, “and why do you look so sad?”

“My name is Small-Wit,” said the Jackal; “and I am sad because I have not a friend in the world. Ah! if I could win your friendship how happy I should be!”

“Very well,” said the Deer, who was very good-natured. “Come with me, and we will be friends.”

He led the way to his home, and the Jackal followed him. As they drew near, Sharp-Sense, the Crow, called from the tree where he was perching: “Who is this number two, Friend Deer?”

“It is Small-Wit, the Jackal,” said the Deer. “He is lonely, and wishes to be our friend.”

“Friendship with stranger,
Friendship with danger!”

said the Crow.

“Nay!” said the Deer. “I like this rhyme better:

“Foe is friend, and friend is foe,
As our actions make them so.”

“Very good,” said Sharp-Sense: “as you will.”

Next morning they went off hunting, and the Jackal said to the Deer: “I know a field of sweet corn, and I will take you there.”

So the Deer followed Small-Wit, and, sure enough, they came to a field of sweet young corn.

“You are a friend indeed!” cried the Deer, and he feasted till suddenly he fell into a snare which the farmer had laid.

“Alas!” cried the Deer, “Friend Small-Wit, here am I caught by the feet, and cannot move. Come, I pray you, and gnaw these cords with your sharp teeth and set me free!”

The Jackal came and looked at the snare. “That will hold you fast enough,” he said. “To-day is a fast day, but to-morrow I will have a fine feast on your fat carcass, my foolish friend.” And off he went.

Presently came along Sharp-Sense, the Crow, who had been looking for his friend. “Alas!” he cried, “how did this happen, Friend Deer?”

“Through not minding what you said,” replied the Deer.

“Well,” said the Crow, “we must do what we can. Here comes the farmer. Do you lie still and pretend to be dead until I croak: then spring up and be off.”

The farmer came along and saw our friend lying perfectly still. “Aha!” he cried, “this fellow will eat no more of my corn.”

He stooped down and untied the cords of the snare, meaning to carry off the dead Deer; but at that moment the Crow gave a loud “Caw!” Up sprang the Deer and in a moment was safe in the forest. The farmer flung a club after him; it hit Small-Wit, the Jackal, who was lurking near by hoping to have a share of the spoil, and killed him; and the two friends went home happy.

LITTLE GOLDSTAR

(Adapted)

In a southern garden lived a family of green lizards, under the roots of a palm-tree. They were merry little creatures, and their parents loved them dearly.

One day Father Lizard said to his children: “Your mother and I must go away this morning; now be good children; stay close together, and be sure that one of you keeps watch for fear of snakes and hawks!”

The little lizards promised; and for some time they were very careful; first one kept watch, and then another; but at length Sprightly said: “There is no danger near. Why should we not all play together, just for a little while?”

Oh dear! they forgot their promise, and see what came of it! While they were playing merrily, a great snake glided quietly out from the grass, seized poor Sprightly, and carried her off to his den.

The other lizards fled in terror. Swiftfoot ran up the tree, Longtail hid in the nest, and Goldstar ran away and away, to the farthest end of the garden. She did not dare to go home again, but found a hole in the bank near a summerhouse, and slipping into it, stayed all night, weeping for the death of her dear Sprightly.

Next day she tried to find her way home, but the garden was large, and she was too afraid of snakes to go far; so she decided to stay where she was, and make her home in the hole by the summerhouse.

One day, as she was lying in the sun, Goldstar saw a boy standing near her, with a cane in his hand. At first she was afraid to move, fearing he might strike her; but Carlos (for that was the boy’s name) was fond of lizards, and would not have hurt one for the world. He spoke softly to Goldstar, and she soon saw that he was kind and good. He stroked her gently, first with a green leaf, then with his hand, and Goldstar lay still, and was not afraid any more.

They became great friends, and Carlos came every day to see his pretty lizard and play with her. One day, as he was coming down the garden walk, he saw a large hawk hovering in the air near the summerhouse, just about to dart down on something. “Oh! my lizard! my lizard!” cried Carlos; and he ran as fast as he could to the spot, shouting and waving his arms. The hawk flew screaming away, and Goldstar ran to Carlos, and crept inside his jacket. She could not speak, but he knew that she was glad, and perhaps was trying to thank him in her own way.

One very hot day, Carlos was taking a nap in the summerhouse, when he was waked by something running over his face. He brushed it away without opening his eyes, but it came again, and still again. In fact, he could not get rid of it. At last he sat up, wide awake and very angry, and found that it was Goldstar. He tried to shake her off, but she ran into his bosom. He was going to pull her out in a pet, when, looking down, he saw a large snake, with head raised and glittering eyes, gliding slowly toward him. He knew its bite was fatal, and he sprang up with a loud cry. The snake stopped, and then turning, glided away into the bushes.

Very gently, Carlos drew his little pet from his bosom, and stroked her green and golden back. “Dear Goldstar,” he said, “if I saved you from the hawk, you have saved me from the serpent. I will love you and take care of you as long as you live.” And so he did.

THE BROOM

Swish! swish! swish! swish!
A servant does my lady wish?
Here I hang against the wall,
Spruce and slender, straight and tall.
Take me down, and then, you know,
Swiftly to my work I’ll go.

Steady, even strokes and strong!
So I sweep the dust along.
Throw the windows wide, that so
Out the dusky cloud may go.
Swish, and swish! now whirl away!
No more dust for us to-day!

In the corners now I rout,
Poking every atom out.
At the ceiling now I dash:
Lurking spiders feel my lash.
Cobweb, fly, and spider grey,
Out you come! away! away!

Swish, swee! swish, swee!
Sweeping is the game for me!
If, my little maid, you mean
Still to keep things neat and clean,
Trim and shining in your room,
Come to me, your friend the Broom!

THE CLEVER CROWS

(Adapted)

A pair of crows had their nest in a certain tree. It was a fine tree, and suited them well, but they had a bad neighbor, a black snake, who often stole and ate their young ones.

“Husband,” said Mrs. Crow, “we must leave this pleasant home of ours; we shall never be able to rear our children while that bad snake is there.”

“My dear,” replied Mr. Crow, “think no more about him. I have had enough of Black Snake, and I am going to get rid of him.”

“What can you do against a huge snake like that?” asked Mrs. Crow.

“Listen!” said Mr. Crow. “As you know, the Prince comes every day to bathe in the fountain under our tree. He has a fine gold chain, and he takes it off before he goes into the water, and lays it on a stone. To-morrow, when he does this, do you take the chain in your beak (for I shall be away getting food for the babies), and drop it into the hollow of the tree, taking care to give some good loud ‘Caws’ while you do so. Then wait and see what happens!”

Sure enough, next morning the young Prince came as usual to bathe in the clear fountain. He took off his gold chain and laid it on a stone, just as Mr. Crow said he would; then he began to take off his robes. Just then down flew Mrs. Crow, took the chain in her yellow bill, and flew up into the branches with it. “Oh! my chain! my chain!” cried the Prince. “That crow has flown away with it!”

“Have peace, your Highness!” replied his servant. “The bird has not flown far; she has this instant dropped the chain into a hole in the tree, and I will climb up and get it.”

Up climbed the servant, and looked down into the hole.

“Do you see my chain?” cried the Prince.

“Yes,” said the servant, “I see it, shining in the hole, but I see something else that is not so pretty; the head of a great ugly black snake. If your Highness will throw me up a stone, I will kill the creature, for it is a poisonous snake.”

So the Prince threw up a stone, and the servant caught it, and killed the snake with it. Then he reached down into the hole, pulled out the gold chain, and took it back to his master, who thanked him kindly.

“Ah!” said Mrs. Crow. “He is glad to get back his fine jewel; but I am far happier, for I have my babies safe and sound. See what it is to have a clever husband! I must be sure to have everything he likes best for supper to-night.”

So she did! I do not know what crows like best for supper, so I cannot tell you; but they had a wonderful feast, and the little ones picked the bones, and there was no happier family in all the forest than the Crow Family.

“TWICE ONE IS TWO,
WE MAKE OUR BOW TO YOU.”
]

THE JOHN-BETTY TABLE

Twice one is two,
We make our bow to you.

Twice two is four,
We dance upon the floor.

Twice three is six,
We build a house with bricks.

Twice four is eight,
We swing upon the gate.

Twice five is ten,
We chase the neighbor’s hen.

Twice six is twelve,
In mud we dig and delve.

Twice seven is fourteen,
We hear old Piggy snorting.

Twice eight is sixteen,
We have some little chicks seen.

Twice nine is eighteen,
We see our nursie waiting.

Twice ten is twenty,
We’ve bread and jam in plenty.

Twice eleven is twenty-two,
I’m put to bed, and so are you.

Twice twelve is twenty-four,
Put out the light, and shut the door.

Three times three is nine,
I’ll give you help of mine.

Three times four is twelve,
This axe has lost its helve.

Three times five is fifteen,
Ugh! Father’s pipe I’ve whiffed in.

Three times six is eighteen,
We think we’ll go a-skating.

Three times seven is twenty-one,
We buy ourselves a plummy bun.

Three times eight is twenty-four,
We eat it up, and ask for more.

Three times nine is twenty-seven,
John is a horse, and must be driven.

Three times ten is thirty.
Dear Betty’s face is dirty.

Three times eleven is thirty-three,
We sing “high diddle, diddle dee!”

Three times twelve is thirty-six.
We play our nursie pleasant tricks.

Four times four is sixteen.
The dolly’s leg we’ve fixed in.

Four times five is twenty,
Miss Betty’s frock is dainty.

Four times six is twenty-four.
We like to thump upon the door.

Four times seven is twenty-eight.
We draw some beasts upon the slate.

Four times eight is thirty-two.
We break the chair and tumble through.

Four times nine is thirty-six.
With milk and mud our dough we mix.

Four times ten is forty.
I _think_ dear John is naughty.

Four times eleven is forty-four.
He says he’ll do it never more.

Four times twelve is forty-eight,
And now we think it’s getting late.

Five times five is twenty-five.
We go with dear Papa to drive.

Five times six is thirty.
We see our Cousin Gerty.

Five times seven is thirty-five.
We see some bees around the hive.

Five times eight is forty.
We want a little more tea.

Five times nine is forty-five.
We teach the puppy how to dive.

Five times ten is fifty.
The snow is very drifty.

Five times eleven is fifty-five,
When we are bad, we never thrive.

Five times twelve is sixty.
We feel a little mixed-y.

Six times six is thirty-six.
We must not touch the candle wicks.

Six times seven is forty-two.
What do you think we’d better do?

Six times eight is forty-eight.
We’ll fish, and take the sponge for bait.

Six times nine is fifty-four.
We’ve caught a thousand whales and more.

Six times ten is sixty.
Nurse says we’ve made a pigsty.

Six times eleven is sixty-six,
We’re such unlucky little chicks.

Six times twelve is seventy-two.
Boo hoo! boo hoo! boo hoo! boo hoo!

Seven times seven is forty-nine.
Dear John, you _know_ this doll is mine.

Seven times eight is fifty-six.
You might just give me half your bricks!

Seven times nine is sixty-three.
You’re just as cross as you can be.

Seven times ten is seventy.
Now kiss and be forgiven-ty.

Seven times eleven is seventy-seven.
Let’s play we are the fox and raven.

Seven times twelve is eighty-four.
No! let’s be lions. Roar! roar! roar!

Eight times eight is sixty-four.
Dear John now keeps a grocery store.

Eight times nine are seventy-two.
Dear Betty comes to buy some glue.

Eight times ten is eighty.
My bundle’s very weighty.

Eight times eleven is eighty-eight.
Please pay me, quick! I cannot wait.

Eight times twelve is ninety-six.
Make out the change, and play no tricks!

Nine times nine is eighty-one.
A tea-party will be such fun!

Nine times ten is ninety.
Dear Betty makes such fine tea!

Nine times eleven is ninety-nine.
Will you have beer, dear John, or wine?

Nine times twelve is one hundred and eight.
Our table-cloth is far from straight.

Ten times ten is one hundred.
Sure, one of us has blundered.

Ten times eleven is one hundred and ten.
We’ll try to mend it up again.

Ten times twelve is one hundred and twenty.
Let’s play we’re making some frumenty.

Eleven times eleven is one hundred and twenty-one.
We hang our washing in the sun.

Eleven times twelve is one hundred and thirty-two.
Our nursie says, “Be quiet, do!”

Twelve times twelve is one hundred and forty-four.
Dear John and Betty can do no more.

THE LITTLE GRAY DOVES

There are many old, old stories about the dear Christ Child when he was little. Not all of them are true, but all are sweet and lovely; listen now, and you shall hear one.

It had been raining in Nazareth, and the ground, which had long been parched and dry, was turned to wet clay. This was a wonderful thing for the children, and they all ran to play with the clay, just as you boys and girls do now. Some dug canals and wells, some built houses and towers; while others took the soft clay in their hands and moulded it into shapes of men and animals. The little Jesus joined this last group, and while they made dogs and cats, horses and lions, he made little gray doves, and set them one by one on the edge of the fountain.

Presently sweet Mary the Mother came to the door and looked out, to see what the children were doing.

“See!” cried one little boy. “Mary Mother, see my dog! he can almost wag his tail and bark.”

“Look at my lion!” cried another. “He is so big and strong, he could eat up your dog in a minute.”

“Ho!” said a third. “My man here could whip your dog, and kill your lion with his sword, so he is the best of all.”

Mary Mother smiled, and praised the dog, the lion, and the man. Then she said, “And what has my little Jesus to show me?”

“I have made some little gray doves,” said Jesus. “See! here they are!”

“And what can they do, my little one?” asked sweet Mary, as she stroked the boy’s curly head.

“I think they can fly!” said little Jesus. “Fly, pretty doves!”

He clapped his hands, and up flew the doves like a soft gray cloud. Then fluttered round the child’s fair head, and lighted for a moment on his shoulders and his hands; then they spread their gray wings and flew up into the sky, and were seen no more.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

“What is going on to-day, Little Cat?” asked Little Dog. “Every one seems so happy and merry. I had chicken-bones for breakfast, with ever so much meat on them!”

“I had creamed fish,” said Little Cat; “and it was real cream. Look! Little Girl tied a red ribbon round my neck, and said I was a beauty. Am I, Little Dog?”

“Yes, for a cat!” said Little Dog. “Am I?”

“Yes, for a dog!” said Little Cat.

“I have a new collar, you see,” said Little Dog. “And your girl has on a new blue dress, and my boy a velvet jacket. And they are not going to say one cross word all day; I heard them tell their mother so.”

“I was in the nursery this morning,” said Little Cat. “The children’s stockings were full of toys and sugar-plums, and they kissed each other and said, ‘Merry’—something! What can it all mean?”

“Let us ask Great Old Dog!” said Little Dog. “He knows almost everything, and he can surely tell us.”

Great Old Dog was asleep, but he woke up and heard their story patiently. “It was ‘Merry Christmas!’ that the children said,” he told them. “This is Christmas Day.”

“What does it mean?” asked Little Cat.

“I don’t understand all about it,” said Great Old Dog; “but it is the best day in the whole year, for everybody is happy and kind, and tries to do pleasant things for everybody else. I think some one was born who brought kindness into the world.”

“Well,” said Little Dog; “if everybody is going to be good we must be good, too. Little Cat, I will not growl at you once to-day, even if they put our dinner on the same plate!”

“Nor I at you,” said Little Cat, “even if there is only one cushion by the fireside.”

“Nice Little Cat!” said Little Dog.

“Good Little Dog!” said Little Cat.

Just then in came Little Girl in her blue dress and Little Boy in his velvet jacket. “Merry Christmas!” they cried: “Little Cat and Little Dog, and dear, good Great Old Dog!”

“We wish you Merry Christmas,
And a happy New Year;
A pocket full of money,
And a heart full of cheer!”

“Merry Christmas!” said Little Dog (but it sounded like “Yap! yap!”).

“Merry Christmas!” said Little Cat (but it sounded like “Purrrrrrrrrrr!”).

“Merry Christmas!” said Great Old Dog, deep down in his great old throat (but it sounded like “Wuff! _Wuff!_ WUFF!”).

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

“Mother,” said Jack, “may I have some money to buy Christmas presents with?”

“Dear,” said his mother, “I have no money. We are very poor, and I can hardly buy food for us all.”

Jack hung his head; if he had not been ten the tears would have come to his eyes, but he was ten.

“All the other boys give presents!” he said.

“So shall you!” said his mother. “All presents are not bought with money. The best boy that ever lived was as poor as we are, and yet he was always giving.”

“Who was he?” asked Jack; “and what did he give?”

“This is his birthday,” said the mother. “He was the good Jesus. He was born in a stable, and he lived in a poor workingman’s house. He never had a penny of his own, yet he gave twelve good gifts every day. Would you like to try his way?”

“Yes!” cried Jack.

So his mother told him this and that; and soon after Jack started out, dressed in his best suit, to give his presents.

First, he went to Aunt Jane’s house. She was old and lame and she did not like boys.

“What do you want?” she asked as she opened the door.

“Merry Christmas!” said Jack. “May I stay for an hour and help you?”

“Humph!” said Aunt Jane. “Want to keep you out of mischief, do they? Well! you may bring in some wood.”

“Shall I split some kindling, too?” asked Jack.

“If you know how!” said Aunt Jane. “I can’t have you cutting your foot and messing my clean shed all up.”

Jack found some fresh pine wood and a bright hatchet, and he split up a great pile of kindling and thought it fun. He stacked it neatly, and then he brought in a pail of water and filled the kettle.

“What else can I do?” he asked. “There are twenty minutes more.”

“Humph!” said Aunt Jane. “You might feed the pig.”

Jack fed the pig, who thanked him in his own way.

“Ten minutes more!” he said. “What shall I do now?”

“Humph!” said Aunt Jane. “You may sit down and tell me why you came.”

“It is a Christmas present!” said Jack. “I am giving hours for presents. I had twelve, but I gave one to Mother, and another one was gone before I knew I had it. This hour was your present.”

“Humph!” said Aunt Jane. She hobbled to the cupboard and took out a small round pie that smelt very good. “Here!” she said. “This is _your_ present, and I thank you for mine. Come again, will you?”

“Indeed I will!” said Jack, “and thank you for the pie!”

Next Jack went and read for an hour to old Mr. Green, who was blind. He read a book about the sea, and they both liked it very much, so the hour went quickly. Then it was time to help Mother get dinner, and then time to eat it; that took two hours, and Aunt Jane’s pie was wonderful. Then Jack took the Smith baby for a ride in its carriage, as Mrs. Smith was ill, and they met its grandfather, who filled Jack’s pockets with candy and popcorn and invited him to a Christmas Tree that night.

Next Jack went to see Willy Brown, who had been ill for a long time and could not leave his bed. Willy was very glad to see him; they played a game, and then each told the other a story, and before Jack knew it the clock struck six.

“Oh!” cried Jack. “You have had two!”

“Two what?” asked Willy.

“Two hours!” said Jack; and he told Willy about the presents he was giving. “I am glad I gave you two,” he said, “and I would give you three, but I must go and help Mother.”

“Oh, dear!” said Willy. “I thank you very much, Jack. I have had a perfectly great time, and it has driven the pain away; but I have nothing to give you.”

Jack laughed. “Why, don’t you see,” he cried, “you have given me just the same thing? I have had a great time, too.”

“Mother,” said Jack as he was going to bed, “I have had a splendid Christmas, but I wish I had had something to give you besides the hours.”

“My darling,” said his mother, “you have given me the best gift of all, yourself!”

“NOW THE DOORS WIDE OPEN THROW,
THAT WE INTO CHURCH MAY GO.”
]

CHURCH-BELLS

(Adapted from the German of Froebel. Air: “The Bells of Aberdovey”)

Through the window, sunbeams bright
Fill the church with radiant light.
Now the doors wide open throw,
That we into church may go.

Chorus. Ding-dong! ding-dong! hark, the bell!
Oh, lovely things to us ’twill tell,
As we walk to church together.

In the church so calm, so still,
Gentlest thoughts our heart must fill.
Lifted high, our spirit learns
Why with holy love it burns.