The Nursery, November 1877, Vol. XXII. No. 5 A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers

Excerpt

STEERING FOR HOME.

LOW, thou bitter northern gale;
Heave, thou rolling, foaming sea;
Bend the mast and fill the sail,
Let the gallant ship go free!
Steady, lad! Be firm and steady!
On the compass fix your eye;
Ever watchful, ever ready,
Let the rain and spray go by!
We're steering for home.

Let the waves with angry thud
Shake the ship from stem to stern;
We can brave the flying scud,
It may go, it may return:
In the wind are cheerful voices,
In the waves a pleasant song,
And the sailor's heart rejoices
As the good ship bounds along.
We're steering for home.

Standing on the briny deck,
Beaten by the blinding spray,
Fearing neither storm nor wreck,
Let us keep our onward way.
Loving hearts for us are yearning,
Now in hope, and now in doubt,
Looking for our swift returning,
How they try to make us out!
We're steering for home.

Fainter blows the bitter gale,
And more peaceful grows the sea;
Now, boys, trim again the sail;
Land is looming on the lee!
See! the beacon-light is flashing,
Hark! those shouts are from the shore;
To the wharf home friends are dashing;
Now our hardest work is o'er.
Three cheers for our home!
Tom Bowling.

My name is Sarah. I live in Bristol, Conn., and am not quite five years old. I have taken "The Nursery" ever since I was two.

About three years ago a lady gave me a little trunk, and I have kept my magazines in it ever since. Last winter, when snow was on the ground, and I had to stay in the house a good deal, I used to get my trunk and sit down on the floor by mamma, and look my "Nursery" through almost every day. So mamma thought she would like to have my picture taken just in that way.

Now I must introduce you to my dog Beauty, who sits by my side in the picture. You see he is a Spitz; but do not be frightened: he will never have hydrophobia. I cannot think of having him muzzled, for one of his charms is the way he opens and shuts his mouth when he barks. Oh, no, Beauty! I will never hurt your feelings by making you wear a muzzle.

My grandma gave me this dear dog a year ago last Christmas. He had two beautiful red eyes then; now he has none. He had two long silky ears then; now he has but one. He had four legs, and a bushy tail curled over his back; now he has but two legs, and no tail. But I love him just as well as ever.

The dolly you see sitting up against the trunk is my daughter Nannie. I have four other children.

Nellie is a fair-haired blonde, but is getting rather past her prime. You know blondes fade young.

Rosa Grace once had lovely flaxen curls, and very rosy cheeks; but now her curls are few and far between, her cheeks are faded, and her arms and feet are out of order.

Next comes Florence, who has joints, and can sit up like a lady anywhere. My papa brought her from San Francisco. She has yellow hair, and is dressed in crimson silk.

My youngest is not yet named. She is quite small, has black hair and eyes, and is rather old-fashioned looking. If you can think of a name just right for her, I wish you would please let me know....