The Nursery, October 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 4

THE TIDE COMING IN

Julia and Rose were on a visit to their uncle, who lived near the seaside. They came from Ohio, and did not know about the ebb and flow of the tide of the ocean. They ran down on the sandy beach, and seated themselves on a rock.

Their cousin Rodney was not far off, engaged in fishing for perch. All at once there was a loud cry from Julia, the elder of the two sisters. The water had crept up all round the rock on which they sat, thus forming an island of it; and they did not know what to make of it.

"The water has changed its place," shouted Rose.

Rodney was alarmed, and began to blame himself for neglecting, in his eagerness to catch a few fish, the little girls under his charge.

He took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his pantaloons, and ran into the water over the sandy bottom to the rock. Taking Rose in his arms, he told Julia to follow.

"But I shall wet my nice boots," said Julia.

"Then, wait on the rock," said Rodney, "while I carry Rose, and set her down on dry land. I will then come for you, and carry you pickback to the shore."

"No, Cousin Rodney," said Julia: "I think I will not ride pickback. I should be too heavy a load. I must not mind wetting my boots and stockings."

"Then, place your hand on my shoulder, and come along," said Rodney. "The tide is gaming on us very fast."

"I don't know what you mean by the tide," said Julia.

"Why, cousin," said Rodney, "you must know that the tides are the rise and fall of the waters of the ocean. It will be high tide an hour from now; then the water will cover all these rocks you see around us. After that, the water will sink and go back till we can see the rocks again, and walk a long way on the sand; then it will be low tide. But we must not stay here talking: the water will soon be too deep for us."

So Rodney took Rose in his arms, and Julia placed her left hand on his right shoulder; and in this way they went through the water to the dry part of the beach.

"We must look out for this sly tide the next time," said little Rose as she ran to tell papa of their adventure.

    Uncle Charles.

SUNRISE

Come and see the sunrise,
Children, come and see;
Wake from slumber early,
Wake, and come with me.
Where the high rock towers,
We will take our stand,
And behold the sunshine
Kindling all the land.

You shall hear the birdies
Sing their morning lay;
You shall feel the freshness
Of the new-born day;
You shall see the flowers
Opening to the beams,
Flooding all the tree-tops,
Flashing on the streams.

    Emily Carter.

LETTER TO GEORGE.—No. 2

Dear George,—When I sat by the door last evening, a great toad hopped up on the door-step. A bug flew along, and he caught it. He looks very ugly; but he will not hurt you.

The dog Prince sits and watches the little new chickens every day. I suppose he wonders what they are. He knows it is wrong to touch them, because I have told him so.

But he thought he would like to just smell of one: so he put his nose close to the little soft bunch, and smelt of it. But the chicken's mother put her head out of the coop, and pecked him so that he cried.

Prince found a bone, and hid it in the ground. But he was afraid the pig would find it: so he dug it up, and carried it behind the wagon, in the wagon-house.

The colt is very cunning; but he is naughty. One day the clothes were hung out on the line to dry. The colt got in the yard, and tore the clothes all in pieces with his teeth. He ought to know better.

    W. O. C.

PEEPY'S PET

There was a little girl who was called Peepy; but why she was called so I do not know: perhaps it was because, when a baby, she used to peep from behind a curtain or a door, and cry, "Peep-O!"

She was a good little girl; but, when she was five years old, her mother had to go to Europe for her health, and Peepy was sent to board in the family of a farmer whose name was Miller.

One day Mr. Miller made her a present of a bright silver quarter of a dollar. Peepy had been taught to sew by Susan Miller; and so Peepy put her work-box on a chair in her little room, and sat down and made a little bag in which to keep the bright silver coin.

Then she took a walk near the grove, and saw two boys who had caught a robin, and were playing with it. They had tied a string to its legs; and, when the poor bird tried to fly away, they pulled it back again, and laughed at its struggles.

At last the little robin was so tired and frightened, that it lay on the ground, panting, with its feathers ruffled, and its beak wide open, and its eyes half closed. It seemed ready to die. Then the rude, cruel boys pulled the string to make it fly again.

"Please don't be so cruel," said little Peepy. "How can you be so cruel?" And she ran to the poor bird, and took it up very gently.

"You let our bird alone!" one of the boys cried out. But Peepy still held it, and was ready to cry when she felt its little heart beating with fear.

"Do give it to me, please," said Peepy. "I will thank you for it very much." But the boys laughed at her, and told her roughly to let the bird alone. "We caught the bird, and the bird is ours," said one of them.

"Will you sell me the bird?" asked Peepy, taking her bright quarter of a dollar out of its bag, and offering it.

"Ah! now you talk sensibly," said the larger of the boys. "Yes: we'll sell it."

So Peepy parted with her money, but kept the precious bird. The boys ran off, knowing they had done a mean thing, and fearing some man might come along, and inquire into it.

Peepy took the bird home; and Mrs. Miller told her she had done right, and helped her to mend an old cage into which they could put the poor little bruised bird. Soon it took food from their hands, and grew quite tame.

Peepy named it Bella, and kept it in her chamber where she could hear it sing. Bella loved Peepy, and would fly about the room, and light on her head, and play with her curls.

But as summer came on, and the weather grew warm and pleasant, Peepy thought to herself, "Bella loves me, and is grateful for all my care; but liberty is as sweet to birds as to little girls. I will not selfishly keep this bird in prison. I will take it into the grove, and set it free."

So Peepy took it into the grove, and set it free; and Bella lighted on a bough, and sang the sweetest song you ever heard. It then flew singing round Peepy's head, as if to say, "Thank you! thank you a thousand times, you dear little girl!" If Bella's song could have been translated into words, I think they would have been these:—

"Darling little Peepy,
When you're sad or sleepy,