FIELD MOUSE.   “What is my little Alfred crying for?” asked his mother, Mrs. Clifford, as she entered the room where Alfred stood weeping by the table. Come here, and tell me what is the matter with you.” Alfred slowly advanced towards his mother, and wiped away his tears with her apron. Alfred was but a little boy, or he would not have cried for such a simple thing as he did. “Well, Alfred, and what is it?”... more...

EXPLANATION OF THE NEW MAP This is a new map of the Deep Woods, showing a good many new things. The three spots on the Edge of the World, away down, show where the Hollow Tree people and Mr. Rabbit sat when they told their star stories. Mr. 'Coon leaned against the tree, so his spot does not show. The little bush is the one that Mr. 'Possum curled his tail around when he wanted to take a nap, to keep from falling over into the Deep Nowhere.... more...

How Spring was Coming. “Hallo, old Yellowbill! what’s brought you out so early?” said a fine fat thrush, one bright spring morning, stopping for a moment to look at his companion, and leaving the great broken-shelled snail he had rooted out of the ivy bush curling about upon the gravel path. “Hallo, old Yellowbill! what’s brought you out so early?” “What’s that to you, old snail-crusher?”... more...

1. UP TO LONDON. 1. In the reign of the famous king Edward the Third, there was a little boy named Dick Whitt-ing-ton, whose father and mother died when he was very young. 2. He knew nothing about them, and he was left, a poor little ragged, dirty fellow, to run about the streets of a small country village. 3. As poor Dick was not old enough to work, he was in a sad state; he got but little for his dinner, and often had nothing at all for his... more...

Introduces the Hero. To be generally helpful was one of the chief points in the character of Charlie Brooke. He was evidently born to aid mankind. He began by helping himself to everything in life that seemed at all desirable. This was natural, not selfish. At first there were few things, apparently, that did seem to his infant mind desirable, for his earliest days were marked by a sort of chronic crossness that seemed quite unaccountable in... more...

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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...

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...

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...