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قراءة كتاب The Nursery, January 1877, Volume XXI, No. 1 A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
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The Nursery, January 1877, Volume XXI, No. 1 A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
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What should the poor woman do? At first she thought she would take in washing, then that she would try to keep a little shop. While she was hesitating, Mr. Mason, a brisk old gentleman, came to the door, and asked, "Where is the boy who cuts these figures and faces in profile?"
One of his grandchildren had brought him home from school some specimens of Ernest's skill; and Mr. Mason saw at once that they were the work of a gifted and painstaking artist.
"You must mean my little Ernest," said the mother. "Poor little fellow! He little dreams what is coming. I shall soon have to take him away from school."
"Why so?" cried Mr. Mason. "Take him away from school? You shall do no such a thing. I'll not allow it."
"We are destitute, sir, and I have no means of support," said the mother with a sigh.
"No means of support! Nonsense! With a boy in the house who can cut figures like that, do you say you have no means of support?" exclaimed Mr. Mason. "Good woman, I will insure your boy good wages every week for the next year, if you will let him come between school-hours, and cut pictures under my direction."
The rest of my little story may soon be told. Ernest became the staff and stay of his family. The little talent he had cultivated so carefully and diligently was the means of giving him not only an honest employment, but a liberal support. He rose to distinction; and his productions were much sought after by all good judges of art.
St. Catherine's Rock, South Wales.IN THE WINTER.
There are some nice apples in the cellar, and William is going down with a light to get a dish full. He will pick out some that are as yellow as gold, and some that are as red as a rose.
This man is cutting a hole through the ice, so that the cows may drink. The stream is all frozen over. When the thick ice is broken, they can drink all they want. Walk up, old Brindle, and help yourself.
Here are the fowls, and each stands on one leg. The ground is covered with snow, and their toes are very cold. So they all hold their feet under their feathers, to keep them warm.
The old gray cat comes in the morning, and jumps up on the children's bed. Then she creeps towards them, and rubs her soft fur on the little boy's face, and wakes him up. She would like to say, "Good morning!" but she only says, "Mew, mew!"
MY LITTLE SISTER.
The picture shows you truly how I caught her up, and kissed her:
She is so sweet, so very sweet, that I am quite decided
If you could see her as she is you would do just as I did.
A LETTER TO MINNIE.
The following is an exact copy of a letter found in little Minnie's stocking last Christmas:—
My Dear little Minnie.
You must excuse my calling you by your pet name; but you see I'm so fond of all good children that I can't Master and Miss them, and they're all Tommie, and Johnnie, and Fannie, and Minnie, to me.
Your stocking is so small that I can't put much of any thing into it: but if that piano, with the nice white cloth on it, isn't for presents, then I'm mistaken.
I shall put yours there, and I hope I sha'n't crock that tablecloth; for your mamma wouldn't like to find my sooty marks all over it. Though I don't see how she could expect me to be clean when she has had a soft-coal fire burning in her grate all the evening, and that does make the chimney so black!
If you will look at the picture of me in your new book (they call me St. Nicholas there), you'll see how fat I am; and how do you suppose I get down such a small place? I never could if I didn't love children so much, and if I hadn't done it for so many hundred years. But I began, you see, before I grew so fat; and so now I know the easiest way to do it.
I hope you'll have all you wanted this year; but you all grow so fast, and have so many wants from year to year, that I sometimes fear that I sha'n't always be able to satisfy you. Still, as it's only the good little children that I visit, I fancy they will be pleased, whatever I bring.
I must confess, though, that it isn't all guesswork. I know pretty well what my little folks want. But if you knew the amount of listening at doors and windows and registers, that I do to find out all these wants, you'd be astonished.
And now, if I don't hurry off, you'll be waking up, and catch me here; besides, I've staid a deal longer than I ought, for I've lots to do before daylight. But, seeing your mamma's desk and writing-materials so handy, I really couldn't help sitting down to write you a letter.
Tell your brother Walter, that as I brought him presents ten years before you came, he mustn't expect quite so many now; for he can have no idea how many little folks I have to provide for. And if my reindeers weren't the kindest, and strongest, and fleetest of creatures, we never could get through the amount of work we have to do "the night before Christmas."
Wishing you, and your brother, and papa, and mamma, a "Merry Christmas," I remain, with a heart full of love, yours,