Periodicals Books

TIRED OUT. NE day Miss Lily Macnish heard the door-bell ring. She put down her spelling-book, and asked, "Who can that be, mamma?" Before mamma could give an answer, Jane the housemaid entered, and handed her a note."Why, this is not for me: it is for you, my dear," said Mrs. Macnish, giving the note to Lily. "For me!" said Lily, while her cheeks flushed; for it was the first... more...

THE BIOGRAPHY OF A BUBBLE. HE papa who writes this biography of a bubble never wrote a biography before in all his life. This is his first printed work. Perhaps some old person will criticise it severely."Why use such big words as 'biography' and 'criticise'?" this old person may ask. "Are you not writing for little people? Is not your subject a poor little bubble that... more...

"CHRISTMAS PRESENTS MADE HERE." BOUT a year ago, Edwin had a Christmas present of a jig-saw. If Santa Claus brought it, then Santa Claus did a good thing for himself; for last Christmas his pack was loaded down with presents of Edwin's manufacture.Nice little brackets to set up against the wall, nice little bedsteads, book-shelves, toy-houses, frames for pictures, card-baskets,—these are... more...

EBONY AND LUCY. BONY is the name of Lucy's black dog. I will leave you to guess why he is so called.On a bright, cold winter day, when no wind was stirring, and the ice of the pond was smooth as glass, Lucy went out, followed by Ebony. Such joyful barking as there was! Her father knew that the good dog would pull her out of the water, if the ice should break through. But the day was so cold, there... more...

THE MORNING AFTER THE PARTY.MARY (angrily). Tommy, you deceiver!You've turned a regular thiever:I've let the light in on your deeds,You needn't sneak away.You thought it mighty pleasantTo devour that dainty pheasant;Which cook and I for breakfast meantTo have this very day. TOM (calmly).Miss Mary, I assure youYou're entirely mistaken:I was finishing my supper—Don't call me... more...

THE STORY OF THE SPARROWS. E are little English sparrows. We have been two years in America. We were brought over by Mr. Wakefield's gardener. He let us loose in the grove; and there we have been ever since.Mr. Wakefield has built little houses for us, and put them on the boughs of the trees. We go into these houses when it rains hard or blows. Once the doors of our houses were all blocked up with... more...

THE CHILDREN AT GRANDMOTHER'S. HERE was once a grandmother who had fourteen little grandchildren. Some of them were cousins to one another; and some were brothers and sisters. This grandmother lived in an old, old cottage not far from the sea-beach. The cottage had a long sloping roof; and there was an elm-tree in front of it.One fair day in June, the boys went down to the sea-beach to bathe, and... more...

THE WILD BEES' HOME.Wildbees of the wood are we;But our hive you must not see:Here behold our happy home,Where we labor, where we roam.Brooks that on their shining bosomsCatch the overhanging blossoms;Banks all bright with clustering flowers,—Here is where we pass our hours. Seldom on this solitudeDoes a girl or boy intrude;Few among you are awareWhat a home is ours, so fair!In the brook are... more...

ARTHUR'S NEW SLOOP. OW, boys," said Uncle Martin, "if you were at sea in a vessel like this, what should you do when you saw a squall coming up?""I should take in all sail, and scud under bare poles," said Arthur. "But what if you did not want to be blown ashore?" "Then I should leave out the first reef, so as to catch as much wind as I could risk, and steer for the... more...

WORK AND PLAY. O you want your sidewalk shovelled?" This was the question asked of Mr. Prim, as he sat reading his newspaper, one New Year's morning. The question came through a servant who had just answered the door-bell. Mr. Prim looked out of the window. The snow was still falling. So he sent out word, "No shovelling wanted till the storm's over," and went on with his... more...