Our Little Ones
and
THE NURSERY

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CONTENTS.

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Remittances are at risk of the Publishers only when sent by Postal Order, Check, or Registered Letter. Checks, Drafts and Money Orders should be made payable to the

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SPECIAL OFFER:—We will send you these 9 Books (one of each) for $1.00 and five 2-cent stamps.

The Retail Price of these 9 Books is $2.21.

Send $1.10 for all and sell those you don't want at the retail prices. Circulars free.

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The fastening is made from a single piece of metal, having a wedged-shaped opening, into which a small fold of the stocking is inserted and pulled down between the converging sides, which hold it firmly without cutting or tearing.

"The Warren" is especially desirable for children, as there is nothing to stick into them in case of a fall, and any child can adjust it as readily as a button to a button-hole.

Different arrangements of straps adapted for all ages are also made, as follows:

Inquire for it at the Dry Goods Stores. If not found, samples will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any part of the U.S. on receipt of price.

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A New Preparation of pure unsweetened Concentrated Swiss Milk. Imported in glass bottles only. It keeps for years in any climate, and is for Infants and Invalids the safest, most digestible, nourishing and fortifying food known. Seven medals already awarded, and highest testimonials from physicians. It is the perfect preventive and cure Infantile Marasmus, Diarrhœa, Sore Mouth, Colic, Summer Complaint, Deficient Vitality, Painful and Retarded Dentition. It undergoes in digestion the same changes as human milk, and cannot cause flatulency. For all purposes superior to new milk. Excellent for Housekeepers, Travellers, etc. Superior for Coffee, Cocoa, Tea, Ice Cream, and all Fine Cooking. Indispensable on shipboard.

Send for circular. For sale by Druggists and Grocers.

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The Hartford Mattress is the most comfortable, healthful, luxurious, durable and economical bed in the world. More than 350,000 now in use in the United States. Can be sent in knock down shape, and is easily set up, or may be forwarded set up, at low rates. It is the cleanliest, easiest cared for, most durable mattress ever invented. It will last a lifetime. One-third of life is spent in sleep, Large discounts to the trade. The Hartford Company also manufacture an extensive line of Woven Wire Cots, iron Brass Bedsteads, Sofa-Lounges, Cribs, etc., at low prices.

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This beautiful poem is reproduced in fac-simile of the original manuscript, and decorated throughout with colored illustrations by Isaac Sprague. Chromo-lithographed cover, with heavy silk fringe and tassel.

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Reproduced in fac-simile of the author's handwriting, and illustrated with beautiful colored designs by Alexander Pope. Decorated covers, with silk fringe.

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This charming little poem is tastefully and artistically reproduced, each verse being enclosed in an elaborate colored design illustrative of the subject.

The above books are handsomely bound and enclosed in neat boxes.

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class="adtitle3">THE "BIOGEN" SERIES.

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We clip the following from the Boston Herald of June 4th:

For advertisements to be continued three months or longer, a special estimate will be furnished on application.

To insure a good position in our next issue, copy should be in our hands by the 28th of the present month.

The right is reserved to decline any advertisement that we may consider to be objectionable.

Correspondence solicited, advertisements prepared, estimates furnished, and all enquiries cheerfully answered by

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A PICTURE.

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NAUGHTY NASNA.

Nasna was a coati-mondi, a cousin of the raccoon family. She was about the size of a cat, with thick, coarse fur, brown on the back and sides, and shading from yellow to orange underneath. She had a head and four legs, and a fat body; but the two most important

parts of her, in her own opinion at least, were her nose and her tail. The tail was certainly very handsome, long, and bushy, with black and yellow rings round it. The nose was long, too,—long and sharp, and always poking, poking itself everywhere. There never was such an inquisitive nose. Now it was lifting the lid of a pot on the kitchen fire (for Nasna was tame, and a great pet of her master's), and scalding itself with the steam; now it was sniffing at a bottle of strong ammonia, without seeming to be troubled in the least by the smell; now it was in her master's pocket, trying to find out what it was that went "Tick! tick!"

But what do you think the nose did one day? oh! what do you think it did? You never could guess, and so I must tell you.

The old cat had been asleep beside the kitchen fire. She had had a long, long nap,—the sleepy old cat,—and when she woke up she felt that she needed a long, long stretch before she was quite herself again. Now, the way in which the old cat stretched herself was this: she put her four feet close together, and humped her back just as high as she could possibly hump it; then she stretched herself, and opened her mouth to its fullest extent, and said, "Mu-aw-yu-aouw!"

This was a singular performance. Nasna had never seen it before, and when she saw the red mouth open, wide, wider, widest, she immediately said to herself, "Dear me! how very odd! I wonder what there is inside that red cavern? I'm going to look!" and the next moment the long, velvety nose was poked right into the old cat's mouth, and almost down her throat.

Did the old cat shut her mouth? She did, indeed, my child; and who can blame her for doing so? But there was a sound of woe in the air, and a squealing as of a coati in despair, and the next moment Nasna was crouching in the farthest corner of the room, holding her wounded nose in both hands, and sneezing violently.

But do not think that this was a lesson to Nasna; nothing of the kind! The very next morning she managed to find her way into the dining-room when the master and mistress were at breakfast. She climbed up at once into the mistress' lap, and poked her nose at the shining coffee-pot. Ah! it was hot. Pop went the nose into the cup of coffee that was steaming beside the mistress' plate. Oh! that was hotter.

"I won't stay here any longer, to be treated so!" cried Nasna; and down she jumped to the floor.

Buzz! buzz! what is that by the window? Something small, flying about, with a black and yellow jacket on. See, now it is crawling on the floor, and Nasna can catch it. Nasna does catch it, putting her soft paw on it. Mr. Wasp extends his sting, as the utmost he has to offer. Nasna squeaks wofully, but does not understand yet, so puts her nose down instead of her paw. This time there is no doubt about the matter, and she retires in great anguish to the kitchen.

One day as she was playing about, tettered by a string to a chair, her master took an egg and placed it on the floor, at a very provoking distance. Nasna could just touch it with one paw, but could not get hold of it. She tried with fore paws, she tried with hind paws; but all in vain: she only succeeded in rolling the egg a little further off. What was to be done? She sat down and looked at the egg long and thoughtfully. At last she put her head on one side and winked: she had an idea. She turned her back on the coveted treasure, and backed towards it as far as she could. Then she grasped her tail with one paw, stiffened it and curved the tip almost into a hook, and, touching the egg with this hook, slowly and cautiously rolled it round in front of her, till she could reach it with her fore paw. Then, in triumph and much pride, she sat up on her haunches, cracked the egg, and sucked it, without spilling a drop. Clever Nasna! I think she deserved a good breakfast, don't you?

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"CHOW-CHOW."

"Chow-Chow" was not a pickle, but a chicken, and a real funny one, too.

I made friends with him when he was no bigger than a robin. He was an only child; of course his mother had enough to do to pet and fuss over him. But he would leave her any time when we called "Chow-Chow." We gave him this funny name because he was a great talker. All he said was "C-h-o-w-C-h-o-w," and then "Chow-Chow-Chow-Chow" as fast as he could talk.

His mother was a beautiful buff Shanghai, but he was a long-legged Brahma, dressed in a speckled black and gray suit. As the days got chilly, in the fall, it seemed as if he suffered dreadfully from cold feet. He was always cuddling down in the warm feathers on his mother's back, even when he was a pretty big fellow.

One day I said, "Come, 'Chow-Chow,' don't trouble your mother. I'll give you a good warming by the kitchen fire." I carried him into the kitchen, opened the oven door, and gave his cold feet a good toasting. Oh, how he enjoyed it! He opened and shut his claws as he lay on my lap, and chow-chowed, and pecked at the buttons of my dress.

The next day it was pretty cold, and the first thing I heard when I went into the kitchen was a tapping at the window-pane. There was "Chow-Chow" on the window-sill, pecking at the glass, and holding up one foot, and then the other. He was talking, or rather scolding, at the top of his voice.

I let him in. He went straight to the stove, and waited for me to take him in my arms and warm his feet. He seemed to think it was ever so much nicer than his mother's feathers.

One cold morning I was busy when he came in. The stove was very hot, and "Chow-Chow"—silly bird!—couldn't wait for me to attend to him. He flew up on the top of the stove. Then he gave a scream, and landed on the table. That was the first and last time he tried to warm his feet without my help.

My sister always said that "Chow-Chow" was a hen. I felt sure he was a rooster. She said, "The first we know 'Chow-Chow' will lay an egg." I said, "The first we know 'Chow-Chow' will crow."

After a while I saw some bright red whiskers under his chin. Then such a pretty coral comb. Still he only talked "Chow-Chow-Chow."

But one morning he came into the kitchen in a great hurry. He jumped upon the table, flapped his wings, and stretched his long neck, opened his mouth, and, oh! such a queer noise! It was

a squeak and a roar. I ran upstairs to my sister. "It is a rooster. Didn't you hear 'Chow-Chow' crow?"—"Do you call that a crow? Why, I heard an awful noise, and wondered what it was."

But our chicken grew up one of the handsomest birds I ever saw. And in a few weeks not a rooster in the neighborhood had such a musical, splendid crow as our "Chow-Chow."

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POLLY'S BABY.