The Nursery, August 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 2

Fred.—Isn't it nice?

Maggy.—Me want plum.

Bessy.—Maggy mustn't stick her hand in. She will spoil mamma's nice cake.

Maggy.—Me want taste. You and Fred taste.

Fred.—Hark! I hear mother's step on the stairs. Now scatter, all three! Lick your fingers clean, and run.

Bessy.—I wish we hadn't touched the cake.

(Enter Mother.)

Mother.—What's this? Who has been at my cake,—my cake that I took so much pains to make handsome?

Bessy.—Fred wanted to see if it was properly salted.

Mother.—Here's the mark of Maggy's hand! And here's a deep hole which Fred's naughty finger must have made! And here, Bessy, are your marks. I'm ashamed of you all. Meddling with my nice cake without leave.

Bessy.—I'm very sorry I touched it, mother.

Fred.—So am I; but I wanted to see if it was well seasoned.

Mother.—Well seasoned, sir? You deserve to be well seasoned with a rod. Now, your punishment shall be, not to taste a crumb of this nice cake, any one of you. I shall give it to the poor family opposite.

Fred.—Hoo-oo-oo-oo! Oh, don't!

Maggy.—Don't, mamma; don't!

Bessy.—Such a beautiful cake!

Mother.—The cake shall be given to the poor; and you must be contented with your bread and water.

Fred.—Forgive us this once, mother. Remember it's the Fourth of July,—a day when we all want to be jolly.

Mother.—They who would be jolly, must begin by being good. The cake goes to those who need it much more than we do.

(The children all cry.)

    Alfred Selwyn.

HOW OUR SCHOOL CAME TO HAVE THE

NURSERY

There are fifty little boys and girls who go to the Blank street Primary School. Brown heads, black heads, yellow heads, all shades of heads, may there be seen studying their A, B, C. Some are very pretty, and some are very plain; but they are all good children. I think so, and I ought to know; for I am their teacher.

Well, they read and sing and spell; and some of the larger ones write a little. But we all get tired of doing the same thing day after day; and I felt that my little pupils needed a change.

So, one day, I said to them, "If you will each of you learn a little verse so as to say it very nicely, we will have a good time next Saturday morning. There shall be no lessons,—nothing but speaking and singing."

Some of the little children looked as if they did not know what I meant. But the older ones came to me, one after another, and said, "Please find a piece for me to learn."

So I undertook to find pieces for them all. I thought that was an easy thing to do; but, when I came to try it, it proved to be a hard task. I looked through all my books and papers, without finding much of any thing to suit me.

I was almost ready to give up the whole plan, when a bright little boy handed me a book with a green cover, and said, "I think there are some nice pieces in this."

I took the book, and looked it through. First I looked at the pictures; and they pleased me so well, that I turned back to the first page, and began to read. The more I read, the better I liked it; and, before I got to the end, I was delighted.

"Why, Johnny," said I, "I thank you for bringing me this. It is the very thing we want."

I sent out at once, and bought twelve back numbers of "The Nursery;" and, before Saturday morning came, each of the children had learned a piece from them by heart.

Since then "The Nursery" has been in regular use in our school; and we depend upon having a new number every month. Every one of the children wishes to be the owner of a copy: so I think we shall soon make up quite a large club.

    E. H.

WHERE THE DANDELIONS WENT

When Willy was two years old, he lived in a red farmhouse with a yard in front of it. The dandelions were very thick there; so that the yard looked yellow, instead of green.

One bright morning Willy's mamma put on his straw hat, and sent him out in the yard to play. She knew the yard had a high fence; and he could not open the gate; so he was safe.

When it was time for him to have a nap, and mamma went to call him, she noticed that a great many of the dandelions were gone. She wondered where they were; but, as Willy could not talk much, she did not ask him about them.

A short time after, while Willy was asleep in his crib, his mamma went out to draw some water. When the bucket came up full of water, the top was all yellow with dandelions. Looking down into the well, she could see no water at all, only dandelions.

It was no wonder, then, where the blossoms had gone. Willy had been very busy trying to fill up the well!

    L. W. Gay.

THE BIRD'S-NEST

Last summer little Josie, with her papa and mamma, went into the country to spend a few weeks with her grandmother. Grandmother lives on a farm; and Josie had many happy times, tumbling about in the hay, hunting hens' eggs in the barn, and watching the birds and squirrels.

One day her papa told her that he had found a bird's-nest in the orchard, with some queer little birds in it. Of course, Josie was very anxious to see it; but papa was too busy to go with her then: so mamma said that she would go.

Josie clapped her hands, and said, "Oh! you are a good mamma;" and they started at once for the orchard. A pair of kingbirds had built a nest on a low branch of an apple-tree; and in the nest were two little baby-birdies. As soon as the old birds saw Josie and her mamma coming, they began to scold, and fly about in great alarm.

I guess the father-bird said, "Oh, dear! here come some giants; and, if we are not very fierce, they will steal away our babies. So, mother-bird, you just sit here on this cherry-tree, and scream, while I stand ready on the apple-tree to fly at them if they come near our nest."

Josie and her mamma walked slowly along, not knowing how angry the kingbirds were getting, until they came to the apple-tree. "Here is the nest, Josie," said mamma; and they went close to the tree. But the mother-bird began to scream, and fly about, and seemed to feel so badly, that mamma said, "We will go away from the nest, Josie; for we are making the old bird unhappy." But Josie said, "Oh! do let me take just one peep at the little birdies. Do, mamma, hold me up to the nest just once!"

Now, all this time the father-bird had kept so still that they did not know he was on the tree just above their heads; but, as soon as mamma lifted Josie so that she might look into the nest, he flew straight down at them, pecked at Josie's hands, pulled mamma's hair, and beat her face with his wings. Josie was frightened, and began to cry; but mamma held her close in her arms, and ran away from the tree as fast as she could.

When they reached the gate, and stopped to rest, they heard the old birds talking it over. I guess the father-bird said, "There! I've driven those wicked thieves away. They'll never dare to come here again." And the little birds began to cry, "Tweet, tweet!" And the mother-bird sat down in the nest, and said, "There, darlings, just tuck your little heads under my wings and go to sleep. No one shall harm my dear babies."

Josie says, "I think they were real cross not to let a little girl just look at their babies." But I think they were brave birds to take such good care of their little ones. What do you think about it, little "Nursery" folks?