Read Ebook: The Nursery August 1881 Vol. XXX A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers by Various

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Ebook has 228 lines and 17435 words, and 5 pages

THE

NURSERY

FOR YOUNGEST READERS.

BOSTON: THE NURSERY PUBLISHING COMPANY, NO. 36 BROMFIELD STREET. 1881.

IN PROSE.

PAGE The Young Fisherman 225 A slight Mistake 227 Two Games 231 More about "Zip Coon" 232 Sam and his Goats 234 Mary's Squirrel 240 Drawing-Lesson 241 The Chimney-sweep 244 Billy and Bruiser 246 "If I were only a King" 248 Use before Beauty 249 Ten Minutes with Johnny 251 A Cat Story 252 Tom's Apple 254

IN VERSE.

The Hen-Yard Door 228 Toy-Land 238 A Turtle Show 242 Two Little Maidens 247 Summer Rambles 250 See-Saw 256

THE YOUNG FISHERMAN.

WHEN Charley was eight years old, his father gave him, for a birthday present, a nice fishing-line.

The little boy was greatly pleased. He had fished often in a tub of water with a pin-hook; but now, for the first time, he had a real fishing-line and pole, and was able to go a-fishing in earnest.

The very first pleasant day, he got leave from his father to go to the pond and try his luck.

"Be sure to bring home a good mess of fish, Charley," said his father.

"Oh, yes! papa," said Charley, and with his fishing-pole on his shoulder out he went.

What fun it was! First he dug some worms for bait; then he baited his hook nicely; then he took his stand on a little platform, made on purpose for the use of fishermen, and threw out his hook.

There he stood, in the shade of the old willow-tree, and waited for the fish to bite. As he looked down into the calm, clear water, he saw a boy, just about his own size, looking up at him. He had no other company.

He kept close watch of the pretty painted cork, expecting every moment to see it go under water. But for a long, long time it floated almost without motion.

Charley's patience began to give out. "I don't believe there are any fish here," thought he. Just then the cork dipped a little on one side. Then it stopped. Then it dipped again.

"Hurrah!" said Charley, and he pulled up the line with a jerk. Was there a fish on it? Not a bit of one. But the bait was all gone.

"Never mind!" said Charley, "I'll catch him next time." He baited the hook, and threw it out again. The sport was getting exciting.

Pretty soon the cork bobbed under, as before. "Now I have him!" said Charley. He pulled up once more, and this time with such a jerk that he tossed the hook right over his head, and it caught in the weeds behind him. But there was no fish on it.

"The third time never fails," said Charley, as he threw out his line again. He waited now until the cork was pulled clear under water; then he lifted it out, without too much haste, and, sure enough, he had caught a fish.

How long do you suppose it had taken him to do it? Pretty nearly all the forenoon. No matter! he had one fish to carry home, and he had had a real good time besides.

Charley has caught many a mess of fish since then; but I doubt if he has ever enjoyed the sport more than he did in catching that one fish.

UNCLE SAM.

A SLIGHT MISTAKE.

A DONKEY walking with a lion, fancied himself a lion also, and pretended not to know his own brother.

THE HEN-YARD DOOR.

WHEN careless Tommy fed the fowls, He did not shut the door; Out came the rooster and the hens; Out came the pullets four; Out came old Speckle-wings, with six Bewitching little Bantam chicks.

At once the hens began to cluck, The cock began to crow, And here and there, and everywhere, They seemed possessed to go; They pecked the turnips; in a patch Of spinach they began to scratch: And when to drive them in we tried They straightway to our neighbors hied.

Upon our right, a new-made lawn Was just with grass-seed sown; Upon our left, a garden-plot With pinks and lilies shone. In rushed our right-hand neighbor's son, With flaming face, and said, "'Shut up your hens,' my father says, Or he will shoot them dead." Our left-hand neighbor wrote a note,-- "I all the spring have toiled To rear the lovely flowers I find Your roving fowls have spoiled."

To get them home, the livelong day We tried, till evening gathered gray: Then back to roost returned the cock, But some were missing from his flock. Four hens were with him; where were two? Perhaps our right-hand neighbor knew! Back came the pullets, having fed On dainty pinks, and roses red; Back came old Speckle; of her six The cat had caught three little chicks.

We shut the door, and made it fast; We all were glad the day was past: We'd lost our hens, and lost our friends; Our neighbors smile no more; And all because our careless Tom Forgot to shut the door!

MARIAN DOUGLAS.

TWO GAMES.

HERE is a boy, full ten years old, playing with a peg-top. What a sight! He might find some better game, I should think. Why is he not out of doors playing baseball? He is big enough to use his arms and legs?

This girl could teach him a much better game than peg-top. She is out on the lawn, all ready to play croquet. She will have fun and fresh air at the same time. Those are two things that all girls and boys need.

C. B. A.

MORE ABOUT "ZIP COON."

"ZIP COON: he bites!" This is what I told you was printed in large red letters on the door of Zip's house, after he had grown so cross and snappish that he had to be chained up in the wood-shed.

A big countryman came one day with a load of potatoes. Zippy was inside his house, pretending to take a nap. The man saw the printed letters on the little door, and said to himself, "Zip Coon! where is he? I'd like to see him." So he stooped down, and thrust his hand into the house.

You know you can never catch a coon asleep any more than you can a weasel. Zippy's bright little eyes were wide open: so, when the countryman's big hand came bouncing in at the door, Zip, quick as lightning, seized it in his teeth, and gave it a terribly hard bite.

"Goodness, gracious sakes!" cried the man, pulling out his bleeding hand. "What surprisin' chaps them coons be!" He hadn't seen Zippy; but he felt enough of him: so he hurried down cellar with his potatoes, and when he came back had the empty bag wound about his smarting hand.

Zip Coon was very fond of raw eggs. He would take one up in both his hands, and pound it down hard on the wood-house floor. This would crack the shell. Then he would turn the egg around, hold it to his mouth, and suck the inside out, just as you would suck an orange. After he had sucked the shell clean, he would put one little hand inside, scrape the empty shell, and then lick his fingers so as to eat every bit of the egg-meat.

One day, Isabella's sister Ellen gave Zippy a nice, large, fresh egg. He was very glad to get it, you may be sure, and ate it as I have told you. Then he wanted another, just as you sometimes want another orange. So he took hold of Ellen's hand with one of his hands, and with the other felt way up her sleeve and peeped up with his sharp eyes.

When he found no egg in the sleeve he was angry. He looked up in Ellen's face in a very wicked way, then stooped down and buried his teeth in her wrist. Then he turned and ran into the house, clanking his chain after him.

Zippy was not always so wicked as this, even after he had to be chained up; but he was very mischievous. Once, the servants in the kitchen heard a terrible racket in the wood-house. They went out there and found Zippy on a high shelf where the blacking-brushes were kept. He was throwing the blacking-boxes and brushes down, as fast as he could, and there they lay scattered about the floor. His chain was so long, that he had climbed up on the shelf and was having a good time.

But, after a while, Zip Coon became so fierce that Isabella didn't know what to do with him. She was afraid he would do something terrible to somebody: so she gave him to a man who carried him way off where Isabella and her sisters never saw him any more. And this is all I have to tell you about Zip Coon.

HELEN MARR.

SAM AND HIS GOATS.

SAM was a boy about five years old. He lived in the country, and had a nice little black-and-tan dog, Jack, to play with him. Sam wanted a goat. He thought that if he could only have a goat, he would be perfectly happy.

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