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CHAPTER I In Which Zip Is Introduced to the Reader   Zip belongs to Dr. Elsworth, who lives in the big, white house with the green blinds on the edge of the village of Maplewood. And at the present minute he is asleep on the front porch on a soft cushion in an old-fashioned rocking-chair that is swaying gently to and fro, dreaming of the days when he was a puppy chasing the white spot on the end of his tail, thinking it was something... more...

CHAPTER I: Whitefoot Spends A Happy Winter In all his short life Whitefoot the Wood Mouse never had spent such a happy winter. Whitefoot is one of those wise little people who never allow unpleasant things of the past to spoil their present happiness, and who never borrow trouble from the future. Whitefoot believes in getting the most from the present. The things which are past are past, and that is all there is to it. There is no use in... more...

PREFACE In the essay and especially in poetry the cat has become a favourite subject, but in fiction it must be admitted that he lags considerably behind the dog. The reasons for this apparently arbitrary preference on the part of authors are perfectly easy to explain. The instinctive acts of the dog, who is a company-loving brute, are very human; his psychology on occasion is almost human. He often behaves as a man would behave. It is therefore... more...

I. GRANDPAPA'S HOUSE. "Now for the dear, dear country,Its trees and meadows fair,Its roses, cowslips, violets,Whose sweetness fills the air. "'Tis there we hear the musicOf lark's and blackbird's song,And merry little finches,Singing the whole day long."—C. H. One bright spring day, not so very long ago, three little children arrived at their grandfather's house. They had come to pay a long visit, as their parents were travelling... more...

CHAPTER I. SIR BEVIS. One morning as little "Sir" Bevis [such was his pet name] was digging in the farmhouse garden, he saw a daisy, and throwing aside his spade, he sat down on the grass to pick the flower to pieces. He pulled the pink-tipped petals off one by one, and as they dropped they were lost. Next he gathered a bright dandelion, and squeezed the white juice from the hollow stem, which drying presently, left his fingers stained with... more...


THE OLD GARRET Boys are not apt to forget a promise of a story. Frank and Harry did not fail to call upon their mother for the history of the old musket. "It appeared to me," said the mother, "that the old musket was not very willing to tell his story. He had a sort of old republican pride, and felt himself superior to the rest of the company in character and importance. When he had made himself heard in the world hitherto, it had always been... more...

CHAPTER I—THE TRAIL OF THE MEAT Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway.  The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light.  A vast silence reigned over the land.  The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of... more...

Whiffet, Skiffet and Skud were three little red squirrels who lived with their father and mother in a tiny brown house in the old chestnut tree. First, I must tell you how the Squirrel family came to live in this dear little house. You see it happened this way. Father and Mother Squirrel started out very early one morning in the spring, to hunt a new home as they did not feel safe any longer living under the old pine stump, with the children... more...

WHAT THE ANIMALS DO AND SAY. "Could you not tell us a traveller's story of some strange people that we have never heard of before?" said Harry to his mother, the next evening. After a moment or two of thought, Mis. Chilton said, "Yes, I will tell you about a people who are great travellers. They take journeys every year of their lives. They dislike cold weather so much that they go always before winter, so as to find a warmer climate." "They... more...

Wee Peter Pug My Dame has lost her shoe and knows not where to find it.       ow if you had seen the eager smile on the face of Wee Peter Pug you might have suspected that he had something to do with the loss of Dame’s shoe—and you would have been right. What pup could have resisted such a nice red fluffy shoe?       So he marched with it triumphantly into the garden   and hid it... more...