The New Ship title
W
“WHERE are you off to, children?” said Mother. She was just stepping into the carriage to pay a round of visits when Geoffrey and his sister came running out of the house in a state of breathless excitement.
“We’re going down to the river to sail my ship, Mother,” said Geoffrey. “I’ll look after Rosie and see that she comes to no harm.”
“My dear boy, I couldn’t think of letting you go by yourselves,” said Mother. “Father will be home to-morrow, and then he will take you,” she added, as she saw the children’s eager faces begin to cloud over. Then she kissed them both, got into the carriage, and drove away.
Geoffrey and new ship with Rosie walking beside him
“It’s a jolly shame!” said Geoffrey crossly. “As if we should come to any harm! Why, I’m as well able to take careof you as Father. Of course I shouldn’t let you fall in.”
“Well, it’s no use,” sighed Rosie; “we can’t go, so we may as well think of something else to do.”
A rebellious frown gathered on Geoffrey’s face. “I’m going to the river,” he said; “I shall only stay a few minutes to see how the 'Dancing Polly’ sails. Mother will never know!”
Rosie hesitated a minute, but when she saw Geoffrey running down the drive without her, it was too much, and off she went after him.
For a whole hour the children spent a most delightful time sailing the “Dancing Polly,” but alas! the crew, which consisted of a wooden doll, fell overboard, and in stretching over to rescue it Rosie lost her balance and toppled into the river.
Geoffrey shrieked for help. “Rosie’s drowning! Rosie’s drowning!” he cried, and in a moment someone came dashing down the bank, there was a plunge, a moment of dreadful suspense, and then Rosie was lying on the grass with Father standing over her. Yes, it was Father, who wasa captain in the Royal Navy, and who had come home from sea a whole day before he was expected.
“However did your Mother come to let you two mites go off to the river by yourselves?” said Father on their way home.
Geoffrey hung his head for a moment, and then, like a brave little man, he told his Father all the truth.
“Ah! Geoff, my boy,” said his Father, “you’ll never make a sailor if you can’t obey orders!”
And what did Mother say?
Why, not one angry word, for no sooner did Geoffrey see her than he burst into tears, and Mother put her loving arms round him and whispered: “My darling, Iknowyou won’t disobey me again!”
And Geoffrey never did.
L. L. Weedon.
flowers and ribbon
The Happy Lily tittle and cherub illustration
T
THERE was once a beautiful white Lily who lived in a green garden, and had all the happiness of sun and dew that can come into a flower’s life. Only one thing saddened her; now and then the gardener would come and gather some of her sisters: he took them away, and she never saw them again. One dreadful day the gardener came with a sharp knife and cut the Lily’s stalk and carried her away in his hand. As she went she shed bitter tears, and the gardener said: “What a lot of dew there is in this Lily!”
When she was brought to the houseshe was placed in a tall green vase and set by the bedside of a little sick child. When the child saw her beauty his tired eyes lighted up with pleasure, and he cried: “Oh, the dear Lily! Mother, when can I go out to see the other lilies growing?” And from that moment he began to get better.
gardeher by gate
“It was the Lily did it,” said his Mother, with tears of happiness. “He was so tired that if the Lily had not come to cheer him, he might have gone to sleep and never wakened here again.”
The Lily tried hard not to fade. She held herself up bravely, and day by day the sick child looked at the Lily and grewstronger and stronger. And at last a day came when he was well enough to be taken into the garden to see the lilies growing, and when he was gone the Lily drooped and drooped, for she felt that the end of her pretty green and white life was near. But though she was sad, she was not sorry, for she felt that she had done some good with her life. And as she drooped there a white butterfly came fluttering in. “Oh, happy Lily!” he cried. And she looked sadly at him. “I am not sorry—only sad,” she said.
“Sad,” he said; “do not you know what happens to all flowers who are able to help and comfort any little child? When they die, they turn into fairies and can fly for ever through all the green gardens of the world. The other flowers will only be flowers next year, but you will be a fairy.”
And as he spoke the Lily died and became a fairy, and she and the butterfly spread their white wings and flew out into the sunshine together.
E. Nesbit.
Contented Charlie title
N
NO one bothered about Charlie; he was so happy and contented that the other children half thought he reallypreferredbroken toys to whole ones. He toddled through life with a happy smile on his face, made a gee-gee of the old bench in the back-yard, and never once envied Tommy his fine new Dobbin.
It was not only in the matter of toys that Charlie failed to receive his just share. When black Biddy had a brood of seven chicks, and each of the children claimed one as a special pet, it was the lame one that was called Charlie’s. One day, Mother found her little lad sitting by himself on the doorstep, with Hopperty, as the lame chick was called, huddled up in his pinafore. “What’s the matter, Charlie boy?” said she, for she noticed that the little cheeks were very white and the pretty blue eyes heavy.
“My head’s so funny, Mother!” said Charlie.
The next day there were six children playing in the field behind the house, and one little boy lay tossing on his bed upstairs.
Now, you would have thought that amongst so many children one would scarcely have been missed, butCharliewas. The children felt as though they could not play, now that he was not with them. Then they remembered what a sweet, unselfish little fellow he had been.
“We gave him the lame chicken!” said Dora regretfully.
“I never once offered him a ride on Dobbin,” sighed Tommy.
“I don’t think any of us wereverykind to him,” said Alice. “He was so contented that we thought anything would do for him.”
The week that Charlie was ill was the most miserable the children had ever spent, and when at the end of that time the Doctor said the worst was over and Charlie began to mend, there wasnothinghis brothers and sisters would not have given him, they were so thankful. The chickens were secretly carried up to Charlie’s bedside, but Mother said she couldnothave the sick-room turned into a poultry-yard.
“But we gave him the lame chicken,” the children pleaded; “and oh! Mother, weareso sorry!”
“Well,” said Mother, “he loves Hopperty best now; but, my darlings, Charlie will be down amongst you all soon, I hope, and then you must remember to try and be as unselfish to him as he has always been to you.” The children did not forget Mother’s words, and as for Charlie, he is the happiest little boy in the world, and the other children are all the happier too, I know, for having learnt to be a little more like their unselfish little brother.
L. L. Weedon.
Charlie on hobby horse
Our Cat’s Tale title
T
THIS is a true story, but you needn’t believe it unless you like. It happened to a cat I know, who has never said anything untrue in her life. One day when this cat had gone down to the sea to bathe, she was standing on the steps of her bathing-machine looking at the sea and wondering whether it would be cold—as I daresay you have often done—when she saw something golden and gleaming in the water. She thought it was a fish, and dived into the water at once. But it was no fish; it was a yellow sea-cat, with fins and a fish’s tail—a sort of cat-mermaid.
The cat who told me the story said that the sea-cat took her by the paw and led her down into the deep parts of thesea and showed her wonderful things. Everything in the sea-cat’s world is just the opposite of what it is here. Whatever is wet here—milk, for instance—is dry down there; and whatever is dry here—such as a cat’s bed—is wet there.
But I never allow my friend the cat to talk much of this adventure. Not because I don’t believe her; but because I think it may make her proud if she talks too long about the wonderful things she saw there. Anyhow, I don’t see how you can doubt a cat’s word. A cat hasn’t any words, do you say? No—that’s just it.
E. Nesbit.
Three cat faces each looking more surprised
Doing Nothing title
T
TOMMY would not learn his lessons. He wouldn’t do his sums, he upset the ink over his geography book, and smashed his slate. He tore a leaf out of his grammar and made a paper boat of it. He ought to have been punished, but he wasn’t, because his Mamma thought that dear Tommy must be ill or he wouldn’t behave so badly; so, thinking the fresh air would be good for him, she asked him to pick her a bunch of buttercups out of the meadow, but Tommy said he would rather not—he didn’t want to do anything ever again.
Tommy was not a bad little boy generally, but sometimes the idle fairy, who is no bigger than a grain of mustard-seed, though very strong, sat in his ear and whispered naughty things to him. He threw all his lesson-books in a heap on the school-room floor, and went out to the orchard, where he ate seven big apples one after the other,and lay on his back looking up at the apple-trees, and trying to feel glad that he had had his own way. Presently he sighed.
Fairy watching Tommy tried to get a ball
“What do you want?” said a voice, and Tommy saw a little red-cheeked man in a green cap, swinging on one of the apple boughs and looking at him.
“I only want to do nothing,” whined Tommy; “it’s very hard they won’t let me.”
“Oh, if that’s all,” said the little man, “come with me,” and, taking Tommy’s hand, he led him through a convenient little door which opened in the trunk of the apple-tree. It led straight into the most beautiful garden in the world.
“Now then,” said the little man, “do nothing as hard as you like.” And he plumped Tommy down on a grassy bank.
Presently a troop of merry children came by with balls and hoops. Tommy jumped up to catch a golden ball that rolled his way.
“Lie down, sir,” said the little man, for all the world as though he had been a dog, Tommy thought; “you wanted to do nothing, remember!”
“I meant no lessons,” said Tommy.
Tommy on a hook
“You didn’t say so,” said the little man. “Besides, all those children have done their lessons, or they would not be allowed to stay here.”
Some more children came by riding on white ponies. One pony had no rider. Tommy started up. It would be lovely to ride that long-tailed pretty little pony.
“Lie down, sir,” said the apple-mancrossly; “you came here to do nothing and I’m going to see that you do it.”
“I am doing something anyhow,” said Tommy suddenly. “I’m sitting down.”
“All right,” said the apple-man; “we’ll soon settle that;” and a strong hook suddenly caught Tommy by the back of his clothes and hung him up in the air. “Now you are not doing anything, anyway,” said the little man; “the hook is doing the work.”
Imagine being hung up by a hook just out of reach of everything, while long processions of little green men came and offered you all the things you wanted most in the world—cricket-bats and ferrets, paint-boxes and hard-bake, guinea-pigs, catapults, and white mice, marbles, buns, and sheaves of letters with valuable foreign stamps on them. Tommy cried with rage, but the little apple-man only laughed, and kept saying: “Howdo you like doing nothing, eh!—jolly, isn’t it?” Then he saw his Mother coming along the path, and to his horror he saw that a leopard was slinking after her. He called aloud, but she did not hear.
“Oh, let me go and drive the leopard away,” he cried to the little green man; “it will eat my Mammy—I know it will. Oh, Mammy, Mammy!” but she did not hear, and the little man said: “Oh, nonsense! if you haven’t got the pluck to master a simple addition sum, you can’t master a leopard, you know”; but Tommy struggled so hard that the hook gave way and he fell with a bounce on the orchard grass. He rushed off to find his Mother. To his delight she was safe, and there was no leopard about in the house or garden.
He threw his arms round her neck. “Mammy,” he said, “I do love you so. I’ll learn everything and do everything you tell me.”
“Ah!” thought his Mother, “the fresh air has done him good.”
But it was not the fresh air; it was the little apple-man.
E. Nesbit.
Greedy Toddles title
T
TODDLES was a greedy boy. If ever he had a cake or and orange, he would go away by himself to eat it, so that he might not have to give any away. He was averygreedy boy.
One day he sat on the fence at the end of his mother’s garden eating a slice of bread-and-butter, and an old crow flew down from a tree close by and looked at the food longingly.
“I’m hungry,” said the crow, for Toddles lived in the land where birds can talk. “Give me a few crumbs of your bread.”
But the greedy boy took no notice; he just went on eating the bread-and-butter and never offered the bird a crumb. Then the hungry crow turned upon him angrily, and pecked his bare legs until he screamed with pain. Down the garden path ran Toddles, and the crow ran after him. At each step the boy seemed to dwindle and grow smaller, whilst the crow grew and grew, until he was larger than the largest eagle.Then he made a peck at Toddles, caught him up in his beak, and flew away with him, and put him into a cage that hung from the topmost branch of the tallest tree. “There you shall stay,” he said, “until you have learned to be a better boy.”
crow chasing toddler
It was dreadfully uncomfortable in the cage, and Toddles cried and screamed until he made himself quite ill, and the crow sat on the branch beside him and teased him and laughed at him the whole day long. When the next morning came, the bird gave him a piece of bread and left him. He had just begun to eat it, when a little voice beside him piped, “Give me a crumb!”
It was a little Jenny Wren, and shelooked so pitifully at the boy that he broke off a corner of his food and gave it to her. Toddles could have eaten it up in no time, he was so hungry, but just as he had commenced he heard a little dog barking on the ground below. It was a thin, starved little creature, and Toddles, whose heart was growing much softer, broke his morsel of bread in two, and threw half to the dog. The next morning the little boy was very hungry indeed, and the food that was given him was less than ever. Just as he was going to eat it, he heard a child crying, and, peeping between the bars of his cage, he saw a little hungry child. She had had no food for days, she said, and Toddles was so sorry for her that he dropped her the whole of his breakfast. Then the crow came swooping back, opened the door of the cage, and taking the little fellow in his beak, flew back with him to his mother’s garden, and dropped him on the fence where he had first found him.
“You have learnt your lesson, Toddles,” said he, “so there is no need to punish you any more.” And Toddleshadlearnt a lesson, for he was never greedy again.
L. L. Weedon.
The Sandman title
W
“WILL you get out of my way, lumbering elf? This is the third night I have tumbled over you.”
“Softly, good Father Sandman, softly! If you were not so blind you would have seen me. Have you put all your children to bed, old Father Sandman?”
“Go along for a teasing, impertinent imp!”
Pipistrello laughed shrilly as he swung himself to and fro on the branch of a low shrub, chanting—
“Close, little eyelids, close up tight, for the Sandman’s come to town!”
The old fellow had gone into his cave; it was nearly dark now. Boum! An old brown shoe came flying out, and, catching the elf as he swung, toppled him neatly on to the grass beneath. He was not hurt, for the Sandman goes very softly shod, thatthe children may not hear him. But he was extremely angry. “Very good!” he cried, shaking his morsel of a fist; “to-day you, Father Sandman, and to-morrow me! Mark my words, you will be sorry for it before the moon is many nights older.”
A chuckle was heard coming from the cave, and that was all. Pip went off, meditating revenge. In the middle of supper he snapped his fingers gleefully. “The very thing,” he cried; and he began to hum; “Close, little eyelids, close up tight, for the Sandman’s come to town!”
Old Father Sandman was hunting about his cave in a fine state of mind. “Ach! where is my bag of sand? Where can it have gone? It is the children’s bedtime; the Nurses and the Mammas will be wondering where I am! My sand-bag, my precious sand-bag—oh, if I could but find it!” The poor old gentleman trotted to and fro, and seemed nearly distracted.
“I wish I could help you,” said a bat, who generally shared his cave; “I have been asleep all day, you know, and have seen no one.”
“If you will let me ride on your back,”cried the old fellow eagerly, “I might catch my brother Sandman, who lives the other side of the wood, before he goes out. He would lend me some sand, perhaps.”
“Come along then,” said the bat.
But the second Sandman declined to help. Poor Father Sandman got back to his cave, and there was Pip swinging on the same branch as before, and looking very malicious. “I believe,” gasped the old gentleman, “that it is you that stole my sack!”
Pip laughed, and skipped out of reach, crying: “My turn to-day, Father Sandman.”
But although mischievous, he was not a bad-hearted sprite, and presently he went and fetched the sand-bag. Then he made a bargain. “Father Sandman, will you say you are sorry?”
“Pipistrello, I will say I am sorry,” was the reply.
“And you won’t bear malice?”
“I will not bear malice—give me my bag.”
“One thing more. Will you let all the children sit up half an hour longer in winter, and an hour in summer?”
“It can’t be done—well, perhaps, if I must—yes, then; but the babies must go to bed a quarter of an hour earlier all the year round.”
“Please yourself about the babies,” said Pip. “Catch, Father Sandman!”
The next minute the old fellow, with his sack on his back, and a smile on his face, was trotting off to the town.
Sheila.
Sandman walking with candle in hand and bag of dust over his shoulder
Dodo's Kitten
Y
YOU mustn’t go into the morning-room, Dodo—don’t forget, will you?
“No, Mother,” Dodo answered, but she didn’t seem very pleased. It happened that she was a very curious little girl, and always liked to know what was going on, and she was quite certain that something interesting was taking place now.
Mary and Eric had just come out of the morning-room, whispering together, and if Eric, who was younger than Dodo, might go in, she thought it was very unkind of Mother not to let her.
Dodo was so cross that she sulked nearly all the afternoon, and was so tiresome when nurse was dressing her to go down to the drawing-room, that the other children were ready long before she was.
full color picture of Dodo with her back against a door and a little dog in front of her
But at last she trotted downstairs, with Spot at her heels—Spotalwayswaited forDodo—and as the two of them passed the morning-room door, they both stopped.
Strange to say, Spot was quite as curious as Dodo. He sniffed at the door, and whined, and wagged his short stumpy tail violently to and fro. The little girl’s hand was on the handle of the door. Should she turn it? Surely one little peepcouldn’tmatter?
It always seemed to Dodo that the handle turned of its own accord.Idon’t think it could have done so, but at any rate the door opened a little way, and out dashed a fluffy white kitten. In an instant Spot was after it, and chased it down the hall and out into the garden.
Spot chasing kitten
Dodo didn’t know what to do; she couldn’t very well run after Spot, because just at that moment Mary called her.
“Be quick, Dodo; Mother wants you,” she said. So Dodo went into the drawing-roomfeeling very guilty, and soon afterwards Spot came in, licking his lips.
“Had he eaten the kitten?” his mistress thought, but she didn’tdaresay anything.
The next morning when Dodo came down to breakfast, she found all sorts of nice presents laid out beside her plate.
“They can’t be for me,” she said, but Mother kissed her and said:
“Yes, they are, my pet. You surely haven’t forgotten that it is your birthday? I am so sorry that I have no present for you, but yesterday I bought you a little white kitten and shut it up in the morning-room. Some one must have let it out, for we can’t find it anywhere.”
You can think how Dodo felt then. She grew redder and redder, and then she burst out crying. After that she did the best thing she could have done. She told Mother all about it, and Mother kissed and comforted her, and forgave her, but she made her promise to try and not be so curious or so disobedient again.
And before breakfast was over, what do you think happened? Dick, the gardener’s boy, brought in a lovely white Persiankitten, that he had found in the tool-house. Of course, it was Dodo’s, and it was the very sweetest and dearest kitten in the world.
Spot was inclined to be jealous of the new pet, and was very naughty at first, barking and snapping at it in a very rude manner; but in the end evenhecouldn’t help liking the pretty little fluffy thing. Before a week had passed he and Snow became the very best of friends, and he wouldn’t have chased that kitten for the meatiest bone in a whole butcher’s shop.
L. L. Weedon.
Spot and kitten looking at each other
The Three Wishes title
T
THERE were once two little white rats who lived in a hutch with wide bars. They had plenty of soft hay to sleep in, and bread-and-milk at the proper times. But they were dull, for they never saw the world, and they had nothing to talk of in the long winter evenings. One winter day a Fairy knocked at their door.
“I am cold and hungry,” she said, “and Fairyland is a long way off; I can never get there in this snowy weather.”
“Come in,” said Mrs. Whiterat, and the Fairy crept in through the bars. Mr. Whiterat gave the Fairy some bread-and-milk, and Mrs. Whiterat sat close beside her in the hay—so that soon the Fairy felt quite warm and cheerful again. And she lodged with the white rats all the winter, and they were all three as happy as could be.
Then when spring came, and the daffydowndillies were waving their yellow headsin the sun, the Fairy said: “I must go home now. You have been very good to me. You may have three wishes.” And she waved her little wand and flew away.
Mr. and Mrs. Whiterat
Now, the white rats had often longed to be free, to run about under the haystacks, and bring up large lively families, like the brown farm rats. So now they said—
“Oh! I wish we were out of the hutch!” And in a minute they found themselves among the hayricks.
“Oh! how big and beautiful the world is,” they said.
And then a dreadful thing happened. A great brown rat jumped out at them.
“Get along with you!” it said. “We don’t want any toy-rats here.” And it showed its sharp teeth and looked so fierce that Mrs. Whiterat trembled to the end of her grey tail, as she cried out—
“Oh! I wish we were safe in the hutch!” And the same instant, there they were at home again.
And the third wish? Well, they haven’t made up their minds about that yet. It gives them something to talk about in the winter evenings!
E. Nesbit.
Rats and the Fairy
The Fashionable Fur title
M
MR. and Mrs. Stoat lived with their children in a comfortable home. They were very well off—they always had plenty to eat, and their fur coats always fitted beautifully and were never shabby.
Every day, when Mrs. Stoat was busy with the house work, she used to send the children out for a walk, and one day, when the children were walking in the wood, they saw two ladies coming down the path.
The little Stoats hid in a hole in the mossy root of a tree, and as the ladies went by, one of them said: “I wonder what fur will be worn next winter?”
“They say,” answered the other lady, “that nothing will be worn except——”
But the little Stoats could not hear what fur it was that was to be worn next winter. They did not like to think of other people wearing fur, for fear their own furcoats should be taken from them. “Oh! how cold we should be without our coats!” they said, shivering; but then the most sensible Stoat said: “It can’t matter to us what big people wear! Our coats wouldn’t fitthem, you know.”
But the smallest Stoat of all felt quite anxious to know what fur would be worn, because she was a vain little person, and felt it would be very sad if Stoat-fur coats were not the fashion.
So when she went home to dinner she asked Mrs. Stoat the question.
“Mother dear, you know everything. Do tell us what fur will be worn next winter.”
Color picture of two children in a garden
“Why, Stoat-fur, of course,” the Mother answered, laughing; “unless——” She stopped short and looked at Mr. Stoat, who nodded and then they both laughed, and everyone sat down to dinner. But that silly smallest Stoat of all couldn’t sleep for thinking of that “unless.” What could it mean but that perhaps some other fur would be worn? And thenunfashionable!It was a dreadful thought. Before morning she had made up her mind to go out into the great world and find out what fur was to be worn nextwinter. So she said nothing to anybody, but she started off alone; and perhaps she would soon have seen how silly she was and have come running back again, but, alas! she was caught in a trap, and the keeper who caught her would have killed her, only his little daughter begged so hard that the keeper agreed to spare the little creature’s life. So the smallest Stoat of all was kept in a hutch.
And there she stayed for weeks and weeks; and when it grew very cold the hutch was put in the stable, so that she was always warm; but she longed to get home again.
“I don’t think I should care about not being in the fashion,” she said sadly to herself, “if only I could go back to my dear Mammy and the old home!”
Now, one day two ladies took refuge from a snowstorm in the keeper’s house, and as they passed the stable the smallest Stoat of all heard one of them say: “You see, I was right. Nothing is being worn butermine!”
And the little person in the hutch recognised the voices of the two ladies she had seen in the wood. So now she had found out the great secret! And it so happened that the very next day someone left the door of her hutch open, and she slipped out very cautiously, lifting up her little head and turning it from side to side, and sniffing to make sure that there was no danger near.
Then she started to run across the snowy fields to her old home. But as she ran she heard feet behind her—and ran faster and faster—a little brown streak on the snow. And the feet came faster too. They were a dog’s feet—and she heard the dog’s quick breathing close behind her asshe rushed into the old home, and knew she was safe. As soon as she had got over her fright enough to look about her, she received another shock; she was in the midst of a number of strangers all dressed in creamy white fur dresses who were only like her as to their neat black tails.
Little Stoat runs into her family who are all dressed in ermine
“I’m sure I beg your pardon,” she said; “I thought this was the house where my Father and Mother lived.”
“So it is,” cried the white furry people, laughing. “Don’t you know us?” And then she saw that these were really her own relations, only their dresses were new.
“We are wearing ermine now,” said Mrs. Stoat proudly.
“Oh, Mother, can’t I have an ermine dress too?” cried the youngest Stoat of all. “Nothing is being worn but ermine. I heard them say so.”
“Something else is being worn byyou, at any rate,” said Mrs. Stoat sternly. “You’ve been living in some warm nasty place. If you’d stayed here in the cold like a good little Stoat, instead of running away from home, you would have had an ermine dress like everyone else.”
“Don’t you know, silly child,” said Mr. Stoat, “that we always get ermine coats in very cold winters? Then dogs can’t see us so well in the snow. It’s very cold still. If you try hard perhaps you can get an ermine coat like the rest of us.”
But the smallest Stoat of all never got her ermine coat, for the spring came quite soon, and there has not been a really hard winter since.
E. Nesbit.
dog
Nell's Secret title
N
NELL had disappeared, and no one could find her anywhere. Poor Baby cried till his pretty eyes were all swollen and red, for Nell was his favourite playmate, and he missed her dreadfully.
“Never mind, old man,” said Mother, kissing him. “She’ll come back again some day.” And so she did.
One day a little half-starved ragged-looking dog came creeping up to the nursery, and Baby uttered a shout of joy. “Mamma, Mamma,” he cried, “Nell’s come back.”
The good little dog licked Baby’s hands and face, and wagged her tail by way of saying, “How are you, darling Babs, after all this long time?”
But, when Mother set a dish of food before her, she gobbled it up in no time, and then, scarcely waiting to say “Thankyou,” she ran out of the nursery, downstairs, and after that no one knew what had become of her, for she was lost again.
However, the next day she came back again, and the next, and the next, and one fine morning she trotted up to the nursery, dragging with her the sweetest little puppy you ever saw.
Poor doggie! she was very proud of her little son, but oh! so frightened lest any harm should come to him.
Mother picked up the fat little fellow and put him on a chair, and then lifted Baby up to look, and Nell jumped upon the chair beside her son, and looked piteously up into Mother’s face.
“All right, old dog,” said Mother; “I wouldn’t harm your baby for anything, because you are always so good to mine.” Nell understood in a moment what Mother had said, jumped down from the chair, and ran towards the door, whining and looking back.
Mother, baby and dog
Mother knew she was meant to follow; so she and Baby went with the little dog, who led them down the garden towards the stables, and then up into the hayloft, andthere, behind a large truss of hay, they found four other dear little puppies, just like the one Nell had brought to the nursery.
They carried them into the house, and Baby was allowed to keep one, which he trained to become a very clever doggie, and the others were sent to the Home Farm.
And why do you think Nell had kept her secret so well? She had been afraid that someone would rob her of her darlings; so she had hidden them up until they were old enough to trot about nicely, and were so sweet and pretty that she was sure no one would have the heart to harm them.
L. L. Weedon.
Girl holding hoop for dog
Hide and Seek title
H
HIDE-AND-SEEK is a jolly game when you play it out of doors and there are a good many of you; but when you have to play it indoors and there are only two of you, you have to make the dolls play too. Molly and I used to each be captain of a side; she had nine dolls and I had only seven; so our side had much more looking to do than hers.
One very snowy day, when we couldn’t play in the garden, we had tried all the games we could think of, and Molly was getting crosser and crosser because she could not draw Selina properly, when I said: “Let’s play hide-and-seek.” Molly said: “All right, only I don’t know where half my dolls are. You must lend me some of yours. I’ll have the talking one and the one that shuts its eyes.”
I didn’t like this very much, but I gave in. “And our side will hide first,”said Molly. I didn’t like that either, but I gave in again.
I said good-bye to my dear Rosalie and Selina, and handed them over to Molly; then I turned my pinafore over my head and waited while she hid them.
“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” cried Molly, as a signal that all were hidden.
I soon found Molly; she was behind the window curtain, and made it stick out, of course; and I soon found her dolls and my Selina. Molly had hidden her in the coal-scuttle, and though she had wrapped her in a piece of paper, I didn’t think it was quite nice of her; but I couldn’t find Rosalie, the squeaking doll, anywhere. I looked in Nurse’s work-basket, I looked in the doll’s house, I looked everywhere you could think of—noRosalie! Just then Molly had to go and have her dress “tried on.”
Hide-and-seek is no fun by yourself, but I couldn’t bear to think of Rosalie being hidden somewhere all alone, so I went on looking. It was beginning to get dark, and Nurse had gone down to her tea, and I felt very miserable and forsaken, when suddenly in the quiet Nursery I heardRosalie’s well-known squeak. The dear doll, she was calling to me! The sound came from the chest-of-drawers. The drawers themselves we were forbidden to open, but I pulled out Nurse’s work-drawer, and there, lying on the cut-out flannel petticoats, was my precious Rosalie. What I had so often wished had come true, no doubt. Rosalie had squeaked by herself. If she could squeak she could talk, and what interesting talks we should have! I told Nurse all about it when she came up from her tea.