Children's periodicals Books

BABY, BEE, AND BUTTERFLY. BY MARY D. BRINE. aby, Bee, and Butterfly,Underneath the summer sky. Baby, bees, and birds together,Happy in the pleasant weather; Sunshine over all around,In the sky, and on the ground; Hiding, too, in Baby's eyes,As he looks in mute surprise At the sunbeams tumbling overMerrily amid the clover, Where the bees, at work all day,Never find the time for play. Happy little... more...

There were George and Bert, Sarah and the baby. "And you and I have pretty good appetites, Bert," George would say, whenever the Fieldens' finances were discussed, which, since the father's death, had been pretty often. "If we could only have staid on in the house in Fayetville! The garden was getting along so nicely, and now to think all the fruit and vegetables will be picked... more...

A HUNTING ADVENTURE. I had been travelling in the interior of Africa, in company with a Portuguese ivory trader, for several weeks, greatly enjoying the wild and exciting life we were compelled to lead. The exercise had steadied and braced my nerves, which before setting out were in a shattered condition from the effects of a severe and long attack of fever. Constant practice had also made me an expert... more...

"Dick, Uncle Fritz'll never come!" exclaimed Poddie Monell, with an impatient stamp of his foot, and once more he peered anxiously through the bars of the gate at the South Ferry. "Hold on; don't be so sure, old fellow; there he comes now," said Dick; "look just beyond the Elevated. Let's go meet him." "Keep cool, boys, keep cool; don't rush; there's... more...

In this dreadful crisis, Walter pressed as hard as he could against the rocky crag, having but one hand at liberty to defend himself against the furious attack of the bird. It was quite impossible for him to get at his axe, and the force with which he was assaulted caused him nearly to let go his hold. He tried to seize the vulture's throat and strangle it; but the bird was too active, and made... more...

A LITTLE TOO CLEVER. By the Author of "Pen's Perplexities" "Margaret's Enemy," "Maid Marjory" &c. CHAPTER XII.—AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND. For the first time since she had left home, Elsie felt thoroughly frightened and miserable. Even when she had stayed in the crofter's cottage she had not felt worse. For this little attic, right at the top of a tall house full... more...

"As we have already," began the Professor, "had a talk about the stars in general, let us this morning give a little attention to our own particular star." "Is there a star that we can call our own?" asked May, with unusual animation. "How nice! I wonder if it can be the one I saw from our front window last evening, that looked so bright and beautiful?" "I am sure it... more...

JOHN KERZAR, HANNAH DUSTIN, AND THE INDIANS. It was in August, 1692. John Kerzar, who lived on the banks of the Merrimac, a few miles from the sea, went out into his meadow with his scythe to cut grass. He took his gun along with him to shoot a bear if he saw one in his corn, or an Indian if one made his appearance. He leaned his gun against a tree, and went on with his mowing, not knowing that an... more...

There was one boy in the Merrit Academy who never joined in any of the games; never went skating; never went swimming; never made a snow man or threw snow-balls; never came to the meetings of the debating society, where such questions as, "If a fellow ask a fellow for a bite of a fellow's apple, which is the politer way to give it to a fellow—to bite off a piece yourself, or let a fellow... more...

"I say, Tad Murray, what's made you so late with your cows this morning?" "Late? Well, I guess you'd be late if you'd had such a time as I did. It was all old Ben's fault." "Ben's? Why, there he is now, chasing the brindled heifer. If she'd only turn on him, she could pitch him over the fence like a forkful of hay." "He's a better cow-dog... more...