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قراءة كتاب The Nursery, September 1881, Vol. XXX A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
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The Nursery, September 1881, Vol. XXX A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
"It's ten times more beautiful, and a hundred times dearer than papa wrote about."
HOW THE SHEEP FOUND BO-PEEP.
Her eyes opened wide and wider;
For she found herself seated on the grass
With an old sheep standing beside her.
"Little Bo-peep," said the good old sheep,
"How glad I am that we've found you!
Here we are—rams and sheep and lambs—
All flocking up around you."
"You blessed sheep," said little Bo-peep,
"I've been worried to death about you."
"We've been searching for you," said the good old sheep:
"We wouldn't go home without you."
THE LITTLE FLOWER-GIRL.
ELEN GRAHAM was spending the winter with her mother in Nice. This is a charming place in the south of France, on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, and their home there was in a pretty villa.
One morning, as Helen was watering and trimming her plants at the open window,—for the air is warm and pleasant in Nice, even in winter,—she heard a soft voice calling just underneath, "Mademoiselle, achetez mes fleurs, s'il vous plait?" In English this means, "Please buy my flowers, miss?"
Helen looked down, and there stood a little barefooted, dark-eyed girl, a good deal smaller than herself, holding up a bunch of roses and violets. Her face was so sweet and smiling, that Helen could not refuse her: so she said in French, "How much are they, little girl?"
"Dix centimes seulement" ("only two cents"), she replied.
"Come round to the door, and I will buy them," said Helen.
The girl ran quickly to the door. When Helen learned from her that her mother was very poor, she gave her more than the price of her flowers; and the little girl's face fairly beamed with delight when she went away.
MABEL AND THE BUST.
Gazing, with wonder and delight,
Upon a marble bust. She cons it o'er,
With visage keen and bright,
Till cautiously upon the stone she lays
Her dimpled fingers white.
She scans the image with a rueful stare,
Then turning from it with a quivering lip,
The fickle baby wails in deep despair.
"What is it that disturbs my little pet?"
She cannot pull his hair!
FEEDING THE DUCKS.
PEAK for it if you want it," said little Johnny, holding out a piece of bread to the old duck.
She had just come in with her large family from a swim in the pond.
"Quack, quack!" said the duck, waddling up, and opening her great bill.
"Don't let the old duck swallow your finger, Johnny!" said Ellen.
Johnny dropped the bread. The greedy duck snatched it, and in less than half a minute she opened her great bill again, and quacked for more.
Meanwhile grandma had been throwing out meal to the ducklings. But one pert little duckling was not satisfied with that.
He lifted up his head, and fluttered his little bits of wings, and opened his mouth, and tried to quack, as much as to say,—
"I don't like meal and water. I want to have what ma has. Give me some too."
This made Ellen laugh: it was so like some children that she had seen!
"TIT FOR TAT."
Holds a conversation with a consequential frog.
"Little Tommy Tompkins," says that frog, says he,
"Yesterday I saw you fling a stone at me.
"I had my new green coat on: you nearly ruined that!
Little Tommy Tompkins, I believe in 'tit for tat.'"
"Please, I didn't mean to," cries Tommy in affright,
"I know—boo-hoo—'twas wrong. I know it wasn't right."
"Little Tommy Tompkins," the dreadful frog replies,
"Dry your tears, and stop your noise, and from that log arise.
"The sport of being stoned you shall have a chance to see;
I hope it will be fun for you; 'twill be jolly fun for me."
Then on a sudden Tommy goes tumbling with a splash
Down to the muddy water, while froggie makes a dash,
And, sitting on the log, oh many a stone throws