Coosie and Carrie ran up, and licked my hand as I said good-by. Now, were they not dear little pets?
A. F. A.
THE FOURTH OF JULY CAKE
Fred.—Oh! look here, Bessy and Maggy: come and see the splendid Fourth of July cake that mother has made!
Bessy.—You must not touch it, Fred: mother will be displeased if you touch it.
Fred.—I want to see if she has salted it well. Look at the currants and the raisins!
Bessy.—And how nicely it is sugared and frosted!
Maggy.—Me see; me see!
Fred.—There! Maggy has put her whole hand in. What will mother say?
Bessy.—It will do no harm now for me to taste it.
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.