The Nursery, November 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 5

One day my brother Richard brought a little pig in-doors from the farm-yard. "Squeak, squeak!" cried the little thing as it nestled in Dick's arms.

As soon as we all had looked at it, my mother wished Dick to take it back to the sow. "No," said Dick: "she has too many piggies to bring up. I think we must kill this one." We all begged him not to kill it; and after some talk it was settled that I should have it, and try to bring it up.

So I took piggy under my charge. I named him "Dob." I fed him on skim-milk with a wooden spoon; and he soon looked for his meal as regularly as I looked for my breakfast. I made him a bed in a basket with some hay and a bit of flannel; but he soon outgrew the basket, and we then made him a bed under the kitchen-stairs.

When he grew big enough, he was sent into the farm-yard to get his living among the other pigs; but he would always run after me, and follow me into the house like a dog. I had only to call out, "Dob, Dob!" at the gate, and Dob would be sure to come.

One day he followed me in-doors with a bit of hay in his mouth. He ran down stairs, and left this bit of hay where he used to sleep, under the kitchen-stairs. He then ran off, and soon returned with some more hay in his mouth, and put it in the same place. "Well, I declare!" said cook, "this pig has as much sense as a Christian. Now he has made his bed, I wonder whether he'll come and sleep in it?"

In the evening, when we were at tea, Dob came to the kitchen-door, crying, "Ugh, ugh!" and, when they let him in, he trotted off to his bed. We all thought this very clever on the part of Dob; and cook said, "He was the knowingest little piggy she ever seed!"

    T. C.

CAMPING OUT

Albert lives in the Far West. He is only seven years old. He has no brothers or sisters to play with him, so he has to amuse himself. He makes railroads and bridges and houses with bits of rock. He has a toy shovel and a pickaxe and a little axe that will cut. He is very happy playing with them for hours.

Sometimes he gets tired of his playthings, and says, "Mamma, what shall I do now?" Then his mamma tells him that he may read his lesson. If he has been a good boy, she reads some of the stories in "The Nursery" to him, which pleases him very much.

One day last autumn, his papa and mamma went over on the Neosho River, in the Indian Territory (you must look on the map and see where that is), to gather some hickory-nuts and walnuts. Of course they took Albert with them.

It was a bright sunny morning when they started off across the prairie. They saw a great many prairie-chickens, and two big gray wolves, as they went along. Albert was in great glee; but it was a long ride, and the little boy was very glad when they came in sight of the sparkling waters of the Neosho, just as the sun was setting.

Papa had just time to pitch a tent and build a big fire before it was quite dark. Then they all sat down by the fire, and ate their supper. Then mamma made up a nice bed with blankets and shawls, and put Albert into it. They were all glad to go to bed early.

The wolves barked at them several times during the night, but were too much afraid of the fire to venture very near. Albert slept as sweetly as if he had been in his own little bed at home, instead of being out under the starry sky, far away from a house. When he opened his eyes next morning, it was yet quite dusk; but papa was getting ready to go to a pond to shoot some ducks for breakfast. Albert wished to go too; and papa kindly consented. When they came to the pond, papa told Albert to sit down on a log a little way off, so that he would not scare the ducks, and wait until he called him.

Albert promised to do so, and waited for a while; but it seemed to him a very long time, and he began to grow tired and hungry. He called several times; but no one answered, as papa did not wish to scare the ducks. Then he thought he would go back to mamma at the camp.

He walked on bravely at first; but by and by, as he saw no sign of the camp, and the trees seemed to look all alike, he began to be afraid. He feared lest he might see a wolf or other wild animal; and then he began to cry, and to call loudly. Some Indians across the river called to him, and asked him what was the matter.

Albert was not afraid of them; but he did not stop crying. At last mamma heard him, and was just going to look for him, when papa overtook him, and brought him to the camp. He had scared the ducks so that they had none for breakfast, after all.

But mamma had the coffee-pot boiling by the fire; and the bread and butter, cakes, cold meat, and other things from the luncheon-basket, tasted very good in the cool autumn air.

Albert was much ashamed of having been such a coward, and promised never to be so foolish again. If he had done as his papa told him, he would not have got into such trouble.

After breakfast they all went to work in earnest, and soon had a fine lot of nuts. Albert also picked up some pretty shells by the river-brink. Then papa and mamma packed up the blankets, luncheon-basket, and other things, and, giving a parting look at the bright river, they turned the horses' heads towards home.

    Grace Moeren.

A FIELD-DAY WITH THE GEESE

Joseph wants to be a soldier; but, not having any boys to drill, he has to content himself with drilling his uncle's geese. See them on parade! He has opened the gate: he has cried out, "Forward, march!" and in come the geese, black and white, single file.

Joseph stands proudly aside, as a commander ought to, while reviewing his troops. He has a flag in his hand. His cousin Richard is the trumpeter. Mary looks on with admiration, and does not remark that Fido, the sly dog, is trying to find out what she has good to eat in her basket.

Now let me tell you a few facts about geese. They have the reputation of being stupid; but Richard has not found them so. That leading goose goes by the name of Capt. Waddle. He does not hold up his head as a captain should; but he minds a good deal that Richard says to him, for he is very fond of Richard, and tries to do all that he is told to do.

I have heard of a goose who became very fond of a bull-dog. Grim, for that was the dog's name, had saved her from the clutch of a fox; and after that it seemed as if the poor goose could not do enough to show her gratitude. Every day she would keep as near to Grim as she could; and, when he was chained to his kennel, she would stay by, and show her affection in many ways.

At last the bull-dog was sent off to a neighboring town; and then the poor goose lost her appetite, and seemed to pine so, that her owner, Mrs. Gilbert, who was a humane woman, and took a great interest in dumb animals, sent for Grim to come back.

It would have pleased you to see the meeting. The instant the goose heard Grim's familiar bark, she started up, and ran with outstretched wings to greet him. She came as near to embracing him as a goose could. Grim seemed well pleased with her delight, and barked his acknowledgments in a tone that could not be mistaken.

The goose soon regained her appetite, and was not again parted from her dear Grim. The best of this story is, that it is true. So you see that even geese are not so stupid but that they show gratitude to those who befriend them.

Indeed, geese seem to be constant in their affections. They know, also, how to show anger. I remember once seeing a boy tease some geese in order to make them angry. They ran after him in a rage, seized hold of his clothes, and nipped him smartly to punish him for the insult.

Once, in Scotland, a young goose became so fond of its master, that it followed him everywhere, no matter how great the distance, and even through the crowd and tumult of a city.

    Uncle Charles.

WHAT WILLY DID

When the gas was lighted,
Willy's mamma said,
"Maggie, feed the children,
And put them both to bed."

When the milk was eaten,
Maggie went for more:
So she put the baby
Down upon the floor.

Then the naughty Willy
Climbed up for a match,
And he lit it quickly
With a little scratch.

But it burnt his fingers
When the flame arose,
And suddenly he dropped it
On the baby's clothes.

Up it blazed so fiercely,
That, when Maggie came,
There was little baby
Screaming in the flame.

Maggie put the fire out,
And saved the baby too;
But Willy was so frightened
He knew not what to do.

He was sorry, too, for baby,
With arms all burnt and sore;
And so he never meddled