Periodicals Books

HUM, THE SON OF BUZ. At Rye Beach, during our summer's vacation, there came, as there always will to seaside visitors, two or three cold, chilly, rainy days,—days when the skies that long had not rained a drop seemed suddenly to bethink themselves of their remissness, and to pour down water, not by drops, but by pailfuls. The chilly wind blew and whistled, the water dashed along the ground, and... more...

Where many a cloud-wreathed mountain blanchesEternally in the blue abyss,And tosses its torrents and avalanchesThundering from cliff and precipice,There is the lovely land of the Swiss,—Land of lakes and of icy seas,Of chamois and chalets,And beautiful valleys,Musical boxes, watches, and cheese.Picturesque, with its landscapes green and cool,Sleek cattle standing in shadow or pool,And dairy-maids... more...

"TRY, TRY AGAIN." T is a true story that I am going to tell you now. It is about a little boy whose name was William Ross. Having had a present of a pencil, he thought he would make use of it by trying to draw.His first attempts were poor enough. One day, when he had been playing ball with a young friend, he stopped, and, taking out his pencil, began to draw a picture on the wall. "What do... more...

THE VIOLIN VILLAGE.By Edith Hawkins.On the borders of the Tyrol and the lovely district known as the "Bavarian Highlands," there is a quaint little village called "Mittenwald," which at first sight appears shut in by lofty mountains as by some great and insurmountable barrier. The villagers are a simple, industrious people, chiefly occupied in the manufacture of stringed musical... more...

ONE SATURDAY BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG. It was an autumn day in the Indian summer time,—that one Saturday. The Grammar Room class of Budville were going nutting; that is, eight of them were going,—"our set," as they styled themselves. Besides the eight of "our set," Bob Trotter was going along as driver, to take care of the horses and spring wagon on arrival at the woods, while the... more...

FERN-SEED.By Celia Thaxter.She filled her shoes with fern-seed,This foolish little Nell,And in the summer sunshineWent dancing down the dell.For whoso treads on fern-seed,—So fairy stories tell,—Becomes invisible at once,So potent is its spell.A frog mused by the brook-side:"Can you see me!" she cried;He leaped across the water,A flying leap and wide."Oh, that's because I asked... more...

"CLEAR THE COAST!"CLEAR the coast! clear the coast!" cried Albert and Frank, as they came down hill swiftly on Frank's new sled."Look out for that woman!" cried little Harry, who was standing at the top of the hill. A poor German woman was crossing the road. She had a large basket full of bundles, which she carried on her head. In her right hand she had an umbrella and a tin... more...

THE MOTHER'S PRAYER. NCE there was a good mother whose chief prayer for her little boy in his cradle was that he might have a loving heart. She did not pray that he might be wise or rich or handsome or happy or learned, or that others might lovehim, but only thathemight love.When that little boy, whose name was Edward, grew up, it seemed as if his mother's prayer had been answered, and that,... more...

A DAY AT THE BEACH. HERE are few of the little readers of "The Nursery" who could not tell of pleasant days spent among green fields and woods, or on the seashore. But in almost every large city, there are many children who have never been out of sight of brick walls.Their homes are in close rooms in narrow streets, and there they live from one year's end to the other. In winter they are... more...

"WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?" HAT was the question, "Why did Elfrida go to sleep?" She had been sent to the grocer's in the village; and the grocer's was only half a mile off from Brook Cottage, where she lived with her aunt and five cousins. She had been sent to buy a pound of sugar, half a pound of coffee, and five small rolls of bread.Usually she would go to the shop and... more...