Title: The Sandman's Hour - Stories for Bedtime
Author: Walker, Abbie Phillips, 1867-
Language: English
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[Illustration: Cover]



                           The Sandman’s Hour

                         Stories _for_ Bedtime


                        By Abbie Phillips Walker

                    _Illustrated by_ Rhoda. C. Chase



                     Harper & Brothers, Publishers



                       [Illustration: Title page]



                           The Sandman’s Hour

                 Copyright, 1917, by Harper & Brothers
                Printed in the United States of America



                               *CONTENTS*


Where the Sparks Go
The Good Sea Monster
Mother Turkey and Her Chicks
The Fairies and the Dandelion
Mr. ’Possum
The Rooster That Crowed Too Soon
Tearful
Hilda’s Mermaid
The Mirror’s Dream
The Contest
The Pink and Blue Eggs
Why the Morning-Glory Sleeps
Dorothy and the Portrait
Mistress Pussy’s Mistake
Kid
The Shoemaker Rat
The Poppies
Little China Doll
The Disorderly Girl
The Wise Old Gander
Dinah Cat and the Witch
The Star and the Lily
Lazy Gray
The Old Gray Hen
The Worsted Doll



                          *THE SANDMAN’S HOUR*



[Illustration: Headpiece to Where the Sparks Go]


                         *WHERE THE SPARKS GO*


One night when the wind was blowing and it was clear and cold out of
doors, a cat and a dog, who were very good friends, sat dozing before a
fire-place.  The wood was snapping and crackling, making the sparks fly.
Some flew up the chimney, others settled into coals in the bed of the
fireplace, while others flew out on the hearth and slowly closed their
eyes and went to sleep.

One spark ventured farther out upon the hearth and fell very near Pussy.
This made her jump, which awakened the dog.

"That almost scorched your fur coat, Miss Pussy," said the dog.

"No, indeed," answered the cat.  "I am far too quick to be caught by
those silly sparks."

"Why do you call them silly?" asked the dog.  "I think them very good to
look at, and they help to keep us warm."

"Yes, that is all true," said the cat, "but those that fly up the
chimney on a night like this certainly are silly, when they could be
warm and comfortable inside; for my part, I cannot see why they fly up
the chimney."

The spark that flew so near Pussy was still winking, and she blazed up a
little when she heard the remark the cat made.

"If you knew our reason you would not call us silly," she said.  "You
cannot see what we do, but if you were to look up the chimney and see
what happens if we are fortunate enough to get out at the top, you would
not call us silly."

The dog and cat were very curious to know what happened, but the spark
told them to look and see for themselves.  Pussy was very cautious and
told the dog to look first, so he stepped boldly up to the fireplace and
thrust his head in.  He quickly withdrew it, for his hair was singed,
which made him cry and run to the other side of the room.

Miss Pussy smoothed her soft coat and was very glad she had been so
wise; she walked over to the dog and urged him to come nearer the fire,
but he realized why a burnt child dreads the fire, and remained at a
safe distance.

Pussy walked back to the spark and continued to question it.  "We cannot
go into the fire," she said. "Now, pretty, bright spark, do tell us what
becomes of you when you fly up the chimney.  I am sure you only become
soot and that cannot make you long to get to the top."

"Oh, you are very wrong," said the spark.  "We are far from being black
when we fly up the chimney, for once we reach the top, we live forever
sparkling in the sky.  You can see, if you look up the chimney, all of
our brothers and sisters, who have been lucky and reached the top,
winking at us almost every night. Sometimes the wind blows them away, I
suppose, for there are nights when we cannot see the sparks shine."

"Who told you all that?" said the cat.  "Did any of the sparks ever come
back and tell you they could live forever?"

"Oh no!" said the spark; "but we can see them, can we not?  And, of
course, we all want to shine forever."

"I said you were silly," said the cat, "and now I know it; those are not
sparks you see; they are stars in the sky."

"You can call them anything you like," replied the spark, "but we make
the bright light you see."

"Well, if you take my advice," said the cat, "you will stay right in the
fireplace, for once you reach the top of the chimney out of sight you
go.  The stars you see twinkling are far above the chimney, and you
never could reach them."  But the spark would not be convinced.  Just
then some one opened a door and the draught blew the spark back into the
fireplace. In a few minutes it was flying with the others toward the top
of the chimney.

Pussy watched the fire a minute and then looked at the dog.

"The spark may be right, after all," said the dog. "Let us go out and
see if we can see it."

Pussy stretched herself and blinked.  "Perhaps it is true," she replied;
"anyway, I will go with you and look."



[Illustration: Headpiece to The Good Sea Monster]


                         *THE GOOD SEA MONSTER*


On an island of rocks out in the ocean lived a sea monster.  His head
was large, and when he opened his mouth it looked like a cave.

It had been said that he was so huge that he could swallow a ship, and
that on stormy nights he sat on the rocks and the flashing of his eyes
could be seen for miles around.

The sailors spoke of him with fear and trembling, but, as you can see,
the sea monster had really been a friend to them, showing them the rock
in the storm by flashing his eyes; but because he looked so hideous all
who beheld him thought he must be a cruel monster.

One night there was a terrible storm, and the monster went out into the
ocean to see if any ship was wrecked in the night, and, if possible,
help any one that was floating about.

He found one little boy floating about on a plank. His name was Ko-Ko,
and when he saw the monster he was afraid, but when Ko-Ko saw that the
monster did not attempt to harm him he climbed on the monster’s back and
he took him to the rocky island. Then the monster went back into the sea
and Ko-Ko wondered if he were to be left alone.  But after a while the
monster returned and opened his mouth very wide.

Ko-Ko ran when he saw the huge mouth, for he thought the monster
intended to swallow him, but as he did not follow him Ko-Ko went back.

The monster opened his mouth again, and Ko-Ko asked, "Do you want me to
go inside?" and the monster nodded his head.

"It must be for my own good," said Ko-Ko, "for he could easily swallow
me if he wished, without waiting for me to walk in."

So Ko-Ko walked into the big mouth and down a dark passage, but what the
monster wanted him to do he could not think.  He could see very faintly
now, and after a while he saw a stove, a chair, and a table. "I will
take these out," said Ko-Ko, "for I am sure I can use them."

He took them to a cave on the island, and when he returned the monster
was gone; but he soon returned, and again he opened his mouth.

Ko-Ko walked in this time without waiting, and he found boxes and
barrels of food, which he stored away in the cave.  When Ko-Ko had
removed everything the monster lay down and went to sleep.

Ko-Ko cooked his dinner and then he awoke the monster and said, "Dinner
is ready," but the monster shook his head and plunged into the ocean.
He soon returned with his mouth full of fish.  Then Ko-Ko knew that the
monster had brought all the things from the sunken ship for him, and he
began to wish that the monster could talk, for he no longer feared him.

"I wish you could talk," he said.

"I can," the monster replied.  "No one ever wished it before.  An old
witch changed me into a monster and put me on this island, where no one
could reach me, and the only way I can be restored to my original form
is for some one to wish it."

"I wish it," said Ko-Ko.

"You have had your wish," said the monster, "and I can talk; but for me
to become a man some one else must wish it."

The monster and Ko-Ko lived for a long time on the island.  He took
Ko-Ko for long rides on his back, and when the waves were too high and
Ko-Ko was afraid the monster would open his mouth and Ko-Ko would crawl
inside and be brought back safe to the island.

One night, after a storm, Ko-Ko saw something floating on the water, and
he jumped on the monster’s back and they swam out to it.

It proved to be a little girl, about Ko-Ko’s age, who had been on one of
the wrecked vessels, and they brought her to the island.

At first she was afraid of the monster, but when she learned that he had
saved Ko-Ko as well as her and brought them all their food she became as
fond of him as Ko-Ko was.

"I wish he were a man," she said one day, as she sat on his back with
Ko-Ko, ready for a sail.  Splash went both children into the water, and
there in place of the monster was an old man.  He caught the children in
his arms and brought them to the shore.

"But what will we do for food, now that you are a man?" asked Ko-Ko.

"We shall want for nothing now," replied the old man.  "I am a sea-god
and can do many things, now that I have my own form again.  We will
change this island into a beautiful garden, and when the little girl and
you are grown up and married you shall have a castle, and all the
sea-gods and nymphs will care for you.  You will never want for anything
again.

"I will take you out on the ocean on the backs of my dolphins."

Ko-Ko and the little girl lived on the enchanted island, and all the
things that the old sea-god promised came true.



[Illustration: Headpiece to Mother Turkey and Her Chicks]


                     *MOTHER TURKEY AND HER CHICKS*


Mother Turkey believed in the old adage taught to her by her
grandmother, "The early bird catches the worm," and every night when the
sun set she took her little chicks to the highest branch they could
reach in an old apple-tree and sang them to sleep with this lullaby:

    "Close your eyes, my little turkey chicks;
      Hide your heads, don’t peep.
    Mother knows the bogy fox’s tricks,
      And she’ll watch while you sleep."


Mother Turkey had told them about the bogy fox that lived in a hole on
the other side of the hill, and it did not need more than the mention of
that name to make them obey.

"I do wish we could get just a look at him," said one chick, as his
mother came to the end of the verse. "I should not know him if I met
him."

"Oh yes, you would," replied his mother.  "He has a very long tail, and
a sharp nose, and his teeth! Oh, dear me!" she exclaimed, as she flapped
her wings at the thought of them.

"Will you wake us if he comes to-night?" asked another chick.

"I shall not need to do that," replied Mother Turkey; "you will hear us
talking.  He is a very sly fellow, and always very polite and says nice
things. But you cover your heads; it is getting late," and she began to
sing:

    "Close your eyes, my little turkey chicks;
      Hide your heads, don’t peep.
    Mother knows the bogy fox’s tricks,
      And she’ll watch while you sleep."


By the time Mother Turkey reached the end of the verse this time all the
chicks were fast asleep.

Mother Turkey stretched out her wings once or twice and turned her head
in all directions, and then she settled herself for a nap.

The moon was shining brightly when she awoke, and she saw not far off
what looked like a large black dog walking cautiously toward the tree.
Mother Turkey took another look and saw the bushy tail, and she perched
herself more firmly on the limb and looked to see if her children were
safe on there, too, for she knew that the bogy fox had come to take one
of her chicks back to his hole if he could.

"Good evening, Mr. Fox," she said, as the fox came near enough to hear
her.  "I was sure that I knew your splendid figure; you certainly make a
most remarkable picture in the moonlight."

Mr. Fox was somewhat taken aback at this compliment paid him in such a
pleasant manner, for usually he was the one to make remarks and the
turkeys listened, not daring to move or speak.

He recovered from his surprise by the time he was under the tree, and
said: "You are most flattering, Mistress Turkey, and I can only return
the compliment by telling you that you are a picture yourself in the
moonlight, sitting so stately on that limb, but if you would enjoy to
the full extent this beautiful evening you must come from the tree and
take a walk over the hill."

"No doubt you are right," replied Mrs. Turkey, "but I could not think of
leaving my children alone."

"I should be very glad to take care of the little dears while you are
gone," said Mr. Fox, "and if you will have them come down beside me I
will tell them a story which I am sure will keep them interested until
you return."

By this time the turkey chicks were awake and listening to what the fox
was saying.  He seemed so nice and polite that they quite forgot to be
afraid, and when he spoke of telling them a story one of them said: "Oh,
please do go, mother, and let him tell us a story.  We’ll be very good
if you will."

"You see, my dear madam," said the fox, "the little dears are quite
willing to stay with me.  Do go and enjoy the moonlight."

Mother Turkey looked at her children in a way that plainly said to them,
"Be quiet," and then she said to Mr. Fox: "I appreciate your kind offer,
and were my children well should be very glad to leave them with you,
but they have been sick, and are so lean that I have to be very careful
that they sleep and eat well, or they will not be fat by next
Thanksgiving, and that would be a disgrace, you know."

When the fox heard this he was not so anxious to have the chicks come
down, so he said, "I know just how anxious you must feel, Mistress
Turkey, and if you will come down where I can talk with you without
being heard I will tell you the very thing to give them to make them
fat."

"If he cannot get the chicks he will take me," thought Mrs. Turkey, "but
I am too old a bird to be caught even by this sly fellow."

Mrs. Turkey did not reply to this last remark. She was thinking of a
trap she saw her master set the day before.  "I wish you would walk
around a little so my children can see what a beautiful bushy tail you
have," she said.  "They have never seen so handsome a fellow as you
are."

Mr. Fox was very proud of his tail, so he walked out from the shade of
the tree and strutted about.

"Tell him how handsome he is," whispered Mother Turkey to her chicks.

"Oh, isn’t he handsome!" said one, and another said, "I wish we had such
bushy tails, instead of these straight feathers," while Mrs. Turkey
said, "You are quite the handsomest creature I have ever seen, and I
have seen many in my time."

By this time the fox was so pleased with their admiration that he was
ready to do anything to display his charms, so when Mrs. Turkey said, "I
wish you would run and show them how you can run and jump," he asked
what he could jump on to show his nimbleness.

"The top of that hogshead would be a good place," said Mrs. Turkey,
knowing well that the cask had no head and that it was nearly full of
water.

Away ran Mr. Fox, and splash he went into the hogshead.  He tried to get
out, but it was no use; the cask was too high, and then the farmer,
hearing the noise, came out and soon put an end to Mr. Fox.

The little turkeys sat wide-awake and trembling beside their mother, but
when the farmer went into the house she began to sing:

    "Close your eyes, my little turkey chicks;
      Hide your heads, don’t peep.
    Mother knows the bogy fox’s tricks,
      And she’ll watch while you sleep."


And in a few minutes all was quiet again in the yard.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Fairies and the Dandelion]


                    *THE FAIRIES AND THE DANDELION*


The Fairies say that a long time ago the dandelion did not have a yellow
blossom or the fluffy white cap it wears after the yellow has been taken
off.

They tell the story that one night, a long time ago, while they were
holding one of their revels in a field, sounds of weeping and moaning
were heard.

The Fairy Queen stopped the dance and listened. "It comes from the
ground," she said, "down among the grasses.  Hurry, all of you; find out
who is in trouble and come back and tell me."

Away went the Fairies into the fields and gardens and lanes.  Darting in
and out among the blades of grass, they found queer-looking weeds with
leaves resembling a lion’s tooth.  They were crying and chanting a
sing-song tune:

    "Here we grow so bright and green,
    The color of grass, and can’t be seen.
    O bitter woe, but we’ll not stop
    Till the Fairies give us a yellow top."


Back flew the Fairies to their Queen and told her what they had heard.

"If only they had asked for some other color!" she said.  "There are so
many yellow blossoms now. The buttercup, the goldenglow, and the
goldenrod will all be jealous if another yellow flower enters their
bright circle.  Go back and ask them if they will be quiet if we give
them a white top."

The Fairies danced away to the crying dandelions with the Queen’s
message.

"The Queen will give you a white top," they said.

"No, no!" they cried.  "Yellow is the color we should wear with our
green leaves.  It is the color of the sun and we wish to be as near like
him as we can," and they all began to cry:

    "O bitter woe, we will not stop
    Till the Fairies give us a yellow top."


They made such a noise that the Fairies put their fingers in their ears
as they flew back to the Queen.

The grass-blades stood up higher and looked about. "Do quiet those noisy
weeds," they said to the Queen; "give them the yellow top for which they
are crying, and let us go to sleep.  We have been kept awake since
sunset and it will soon be sunrise."

"What shall we do?" said the Queen.  "I do not know where to get the
yellow they want."

"If we could get some sunbeams," said one Fairy, "we could have just the
color they are crying for. Of course, we cannot venture into such a
strong light, but the Elves might gather them for us."

So they went to the Elves and asked them to gather the sunbeams for the
next day, and bring them to the valley the next night.

The Elves were very willing to help them, but the sun shone very little
the next day, and they were able to gather only a few basketfuls of the
bright golden color.

When the Queen saw the quantity she was in despair. "This will never go
around," she said, "and those that are left without a yellow top will
cry louder than ever."

"Why not divide it among them?" said one Fairy. "It will last for a
little while and we can give them our fluffy white caps when that is
gone.  We shall take them off soon and the dandelions can wear them the
rest of the season."

The face of the Queen brightened.  "The very thing," she said, "if only
the noisy little weeds will agree.  Go to them and say they can wear
yellow of the very shade they most desire half the season if they are
willing to accept our fluffy white caps for the other half."

The Fairies hurried to the dandelions and told them what the Queen had
said.  The dandelions stopped crying and said they would be satisfied,
and the Queen rode through the meadows, fields, gardens, and lanes,
dropping gold upon each weed as she passed along.

In the morning when the sun beheld his own bright color looking up at
him he was so surprised that he almost stood still.

The Fairies kept their promise, and when it was time to take off their
fluffy white caps they went among the dandelions and hung a cap on each
stem.

The dandelions did not cry again, and the grass sleeps on from sunset to
sunrise, undisturbed.



[Illustration: headpiece to Mr. ’Possum]


                             *MR. ’POSSUM*


Mr. ’Possum lived in a tree in the woods where Mr. Bear lived, and one
morning just before spring Mr. ’Possum awoke very hungry.

He ran around to Mr. Squirrel’s house and tried to get an invitation to
breakfast, but Mr. Squirrel had only enough for himself.  He knew that
Mr. ’Possum always lived on his neighbors when he could, so he said: "Of
course you have been to breakfast long ago, Mr. ’Possum, you are such a
smart fellow, so I will not offer you any."

Mr. ’Possum of course said he had, and that he only dropped in to make a
call; he was on his way to Mr. Rabbit’s house.

But he met with no better success at Mr. Rabbit’s, for he only put his
nose out of the door, and when he saw who was there, said: "I am as busy
as I can be getting ready for my spring planting.  Will you come in and
help sort seeds?"

Mr. Rabbit knew the easiest way to be rid of Mr. ’Possum was to ask him
to work.

"I would gladly help you," replied Mr. ’Possum, "but I am in a great
hurry this morning.  I have some important business with Mr. Bear and I
only stopped to say how-do-you-do."

"Mr. Bear, I am afraid, will not be receiving to-day," said Mr. Rabbit.
"It is rather early for him to be up, isn’t it?"

"I thought as the sun was nice and warm he might venture out, and I
thought it would please him to have me there to welcome him," said Mr.
’Possum. "Besides that, I wish to see him on business."

Now, Mr. ’Possum knew well enough that Mr. Bear would not be up, and he
wanted to find him sleeping, and soundly, too.

He went to the door and knocked softly, then he waited, and as he did
not hear any moving inside he went to a window and looked in.  There was
Mr. Bear’s chair and pipe just as he left them when he went to bed.  He
looked in the bedroom window and he could see in the bed a big heap of
bedclothes, and just the tiniest tip of Mr. Bear’s nose.

Mr. ’Possum listened, and he trembled a little, for he could hear Mr.
Bear breathing very loud, and it sounded anything but pleasant.

"Oh, he is sound asleep for another week!" said Mr. ’Possum.  "What is
the use of being afraid?"  He walked around the house until he came to
the pantry window; then he stopped and raised the sash.

He put in one foot and sat on the sill and listened. All was still, so
he slid off to the floor.  Mr. ’Possum looked around Mr. Bear’s
well-filled pantry.  He did not know where to begin, he was so hungry.

He became so interested and was so greedy that he forgot all about that
he was in Mr. Bear’s pantry, and he stayed on and on and ate and ate.

Then he fell asleep, and the first thing he knew a pair of shining eyes
were looking in the window and a big head with a red mouth full of long
white teeth was poked into the pantry.

Mr. ’Possum thought his time had come, so he just closed his eyes and
pretended he was dead, but he peeked a little so as to see what
happened.

The big head was followed by a body, and when it was on the sill Mr.
’Possum saw it was Mr. Fox, and the next thing he knew Mr. Fox came off
the sill with a bang and hit a pan of beans and then knocked over a jar
of preserves.

The noise was enough to awaken all the bears for miles around, and Mr.
’Possum was frightened nearly to death, for he heard Mr. Bear growling
in the next room.

While Mr. Fox was on the floor and trying to get up on his feet Mr.
’Possum jumped up and was out of the window like a flash.  Mr. Fox saw
something, but he did not know what, and before he could make his escape
the door of the pantry opened and there stood Mr. Bear with a candle in
his hand, looking in.

"Oh, oh!" he growled, "so you are trying to rob me while I’m taking my
sleep," and he sprang at Mr. Fox.

"Wait, wait," said Mr. Fox.  "Let me explain, my dear Mr. Bear.  You are
mistaken; I was trying to protect your home.  I saw your window open and
knew you were asleep, and when I got in the window the thief attacked me
and nearly killed me and now you are blaming me for it.  You are most
ungrateful. I shall know another time what to do."

Mr. Bear looked at him.  His mouth did not show any signs of food, and
Mr. Fox opened his mouth and told him to look.

"I wonder who it could have been?" he said, when he was satisfied that
Mr. Fox was not the thief.  "It may have been that ’Possum fellow.  I’ll
go over to his house in the morning."

The next morning Mr. Bear called on Mr. ’Possum. He found him sleeping
soundly, and when he at last opened the door he was rubbing his eyes as
though he was not half awake.

"Why, how do you do?" he said, when he saw Mr. Bear.  "I did not suppose
you were up yet."

"You didn’t?" asked Mr. Bear, and then he stared at Mr. ’Possum’s coat.
"What is the matter with your coat?" he asked.  "You have white hairs
sticking out all over you, and the rest of your coat is almost white,
too."

Now Mr. ’Possum had a black coat before, and he ran to the mirror and
looked at himself.  It was true; he was almost white.  He knew what had
happened. He was so frightened when he was caught in Mr. Bear’s pantry
by Mr. Fox, and heard Mr. Bear growl, that he had turned nearly white
with fright.

"I have been terribly ill," he told Mr. Bear, going back to the door.
"And I have been here all alone this winter.  It was a terrible
sickness; I guess that is what has caused it."

Mr. Bear went away, shaking his head.  "That fellow is crafty," he said.
"I feel sure he was the thief, and yet he certainly does look sick."

After that all the opossums were of dull white color, with long, white
hairs scattered here and there over their fur.  They were never able to
outgrow the mark the thieving Mr. ’Possum left upon his race.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Rooster that Crowed too Soon]


                   *THE ROOSTER THAT CROWED TOO SOON*


Red Rooster felt it was time he showed the new drake that had come to
live in the barnyard that he was a very brave rooster, as well as the
ruler of the barnyard.

So the next time he saw the drake he said: "I suppose you have been in
many battles, and no doubt the home you have just come from will miss
your protection as well as your company.’

"No," replied the drake; "I never was in a battle. I do not quarrel with
any one.  I believe in living in peace with all around me."

"Oh, well, that is all very well for you, perhaps," said the rooster;
"but for me, it is a different matter. I have to protect all the hens
and chickens and I also protect myself.  I can whip any rooster around
here, and no one dares come into my yard."

The drake did not reply, for just then a strange rooster came into the
yard, and Red Rooster ran at him with sweeping wings.

He pecked at the intruder and spurred him until he was glad to run away.

"There, what did I tell you?" said Red Rooster, coming back to the
drake.  "I am the greatest fighter around this part of the country.  I
am not afraid of anything."

"Oh, don’t talk so much about it," said the dog from his house near-by.
"I think there are a few things even you are afraid of, Mr. Rooster.  I
guess you would run from a fox."

"I am not afraid of a fox," said Red Rooster.  "I can scare him by
crowing loudly.  Master knows when I make a great noise it is time for
him to find the cause. Oh, I am very brave and can take care of myself."

Red Rooster felt so brave that he thought the highest place he could get
on the wall would be a good place to talk about his bravery, so he flew
up on the wall by the gate, and then to the top of the hen-house.

Madam Pig was in her pen on the other side. "Madam Pig," he said, "did
you see me whip that impudent rooster that came through our yard?"

Madam Pig grunted that she did not, as she could not see over the wall.

"You surely missed a great sight," said the rooster, stretching his neck
and strutting along the roof. "I am a brave fellow.  I never allow any
one to come around here that does not belong here.  I have just been
telling the new drake about my prowess and bravery.

"Mr. Drake," he called, as the new drake and his family waddled past the
hen-house, "if you need protection at any time do not hesitate to call
upon me."

A robin perched upon the roof not far from him, and Red Rooster flew at
him.  "Go away," he said. "I am very fierce and brave, and if you were
as large as a cow I should attack you just the same.  I am not afraid of
anything."

Red Rooster strutted up and down, crowing and thinking how brave he was,
and so intent was he upon his greatness that he did not heed the warning
cries that came from the fowls in the yard below him.

In a moment more a big hawk swooped down and held Red Rooster in his
claws.  He started to fly just as the shot from a gun sounded, and Red
Rooster fell to the ground.

He jumped up and shook himself, and looked in time to see his master
pick up the dead hawk.

"I guess that hawk won’t show himself around here again," he said.
"That was a very hard fight, but I won, even if I did get a tumble."

"Well, if you are not a conceited fellow!" laughed the dog; "but I was
not the only one that saw the hawk start off with you, and we all know
that if master had not shot it you would not be here to crow to-morrow
morning."

"No," piped the robin from a tree; "you were telling me how brave you
were, and the hawk was not half as large as a cow.  You were not very
brave when he came upon you.  You did not do a thing.  Oh, dear! it was
so funny to hear you crowing about your bravery and then to see you
caught up so soon by a hawk that is only a little larger than you."

The drake and all his family were listening, and Madam Pig had put her
head over the wall to listen. Poor Red Rooster felt that it was no time
to crow about his bravery, so he walked away with all the dignity he
could muster.

"He crowed too soon," said the drake.

"He crowed too much," said the dog.

"He crowed too loud," said the robin, "or he would have heard the
warning cries from the hens and chickens."



[Illustration: headpiece to Tearful]


                               *TEARFUL*


Once upon a time there was a little girl named Tearful, because she
cried so often.

If she could not have her own way, she cried; if she could not have
everything for which she wished, she cried.

Her mother told her one day that she would melt away in tears if she
cried so often.  "You are like the boy who cried for the moon," she told
her, "and if it had been given to him it would not have made him happy,
for what possible use could the moon be to any one out of its proper
place?  And that is the way with you; half the things for which you cry
would be of no use to you if you got them."

Tearful did not take warning or heed her mother’s words of wisdom, and
kept on crying just the same.

One morning she was crying as she walked along to school, because she
wanted to stay at home, when she noticed a frog hopping along beside
her.

"Why are you following me?" she asked, looking at him through her tears.

"Because you will soon form a pond around you with your tears," replied
the frog, "and I have always wanted a pond all to myself."

"I shall not make any pond for you," said Tearful, "and I do not want
you following me, either."

The frog continued to hop along beside her, and Tearful stopped crying
and began to run, but the frog hopped faster, and she could not get away
from him, so she began to cry again.

"Go away, you horrid green frog!" she said.

At last she was so tired she sat on a stone by the roadside, crying all
the time.

"Now," replied the frog, "I shall soon have my pond."

Tearful cried harder than ever, then; she could not see, her tears fell
so fast, and by and by she heard a splashing sound.  She opened her eyes
and saw water all around her.

She was on a small island in the middle of the pond; the frog hopped out
of the pond, making a terrible grimace as he sat down beside her.

"I hope you are satisfied," said Tearful.  "You have your pond; why
don’t you stay in it?"

"Alas!" replied the frog, "I have wished for something which I cannot
use now that I have it.  Your tears are salt and my pond which I have
all by myself is so salt that I cannot enjoy it.  If only your tears had
been fresh I should have been a most fortunate fellow."

"You needn’t stay if you do not like it," said Tearful, "and you needn’t
find fault with my tears, either," she said, beginning to cry again.

"Stop! stop!" cried the frog, hopping about excitedly; "you will have a
flood if you keep on crying."

Tearful saw the water rising around her, so she stopped a minute.  "What
shall I do?" she asked. "I cannot swim, and I will die if I have to stay
here," and then she began to cry again.

The frog hopped up and down in front of her, waving his front legs and
telling her to hush.  "If you would only stop crying," he said, "I might
be able to help you, but I cannot do a thing if you cover me with your
salt tears."

Tearful listened, and promised she would not cry if he would get her
away from the island.

"There is only one way that I know of," said the frog; "you must smile;
that will dry the pond and we can escape."

"But I do not feel like smiling," said Tearful, and her eyes filled with
tears again.

"Look out!" said the frog; "you will surely be drowned in your own tears
if you cry again."

Tearful began to laugh.  "That would be queer, wouldn’t it, to be
drowned in my own tears?" she said.

"That is right, keep on smiling," said the frog; "the pond is smaller
already."  And he stood up on his hind legs and began to dance for joy.

Tearful laughed again.  "Oh, you are so funny!" she said.  "I wish I had
your picture.  I never saw a frog dance before."

"You have a slate under your arm," said the frog. "Why don’t you draw a
picture of me?"  The frog picked up a stick and stuck it in the ground,
and then he leaned on it with one arm, or front leg, and, crossing his
feet, he stood very still.

Tearful drew him in that position, and then he kicked up his legs as if
he were dancing, and she tried to draw him that way, but it was not a
very good likeness.

"Do you like that?" she asked the frog when she held the slate for him
to see.  He looked so surprised that Tearful laughed again.  "You did
not think you were handsome, did you?" she asked.

"I had never thought I looked as bad as those pictures," replied the
frog.  "Let me try drawing your picture," he said.

"Now look pleasant," he said, as he seated himself in front of Tearful,
"and do smile."

Tearful did as he requested, and in a few minutes he handed her the
slate.  "Where is my nose?" asked Tearful, laughing.

"Oh, I forgot the nose!" said the frog.  "But don’t you think your eyes
are nice and large, and your mouth, too?"

"They are certainly big in this picture," said Tearful.  "I hope I do
not look just like that."

"I do not think either of us are artists," replied the frog.

Tearful looked around her.  "Why, where is the pond?" she asked.  "It is
gone."

"I thought it would dry up if you would only smile," said the frog; "and
I think both of us have learned a lesson.  I shall never again wish for
a pond of my own.  I should be lonely without my companions, and then,
it might be salt, just as this one was.  And you surely will never cry
over little things again, for you see what might happen to you, and then
you look so much prettier smiling."

"Perhaps I do," said Tearful, "but your pictures of me make me doubt it.
However, I feel much happier smiling, and I do not want to be on an
island again, even with such a pleasant companion as you were."

"Look out for the tears, then," said the frog as he hopped away.



[Illustration: headpiece to Hilda’s Mermaid]


                           *HILDA’S MERMAID*


Little Hilda’s father was a sailor and went away on long voyages.  Hilda
lived in a little cottage on the shore and used to spin and knit while
her father was away, for her mother was dead and she had to be the
housekeeper.  Some days she would go out in her boat and fish, for Hilda
was fond of the water.  She was born and had always lived on the shore.
When the water was very calm Hilda would look down into the blue depths
and try to see a mermaid.  She was very anxious to see one, she had
heard her father tell such wonderful stories about them--how they sang,
and combed their beautiful long hair.

One night when the wind was blowing and the rain was beating hard upon
her window Hilda could hear the horn warning the sailors off the rocks.
Hilda lighted her father’s big lantern and ran down to the shore and
hung it on the mast of a wreck which lay there, so the sailors would not
run their ships upon it.  Little Hilda was not afraid, for she had seen
many such storms.  When she returned to her cottage she found the door
was unlatched, but thought the wind had blown it open.  When she entered
she found a little girl with beautiful hair sitting on the floor. She
was a little frightened at first, for the girl wore a green dress and it
was wound around her body in the strangest manner.

"I saw your light," said the child, "and came in. The wind blew me far
up on shore.  I should not have come up on a night like this, but a big
wave looked so tempting I thought I would jump on it and have a nice
ride, but it was nearer the shore than I thought it, and it landed me
right near your door."

"Oh, my!"  How Hilda’s heart beat, for she knew this child must be a
mermaid.  Then she saw what she had thought a green dress was really her
body and tail curled up on the floor, and it was beautiful as the lamp
fell upon it and made it glisten.

"Will you have some of my supper?" asked Hilda, for she wanted to be
hospitable, although she had not the least idea what mermaids ate.

"Thank you," answered the mermaid.  "I am not very hungry, but if you
could give me a seaweed sandwich I should like it."

Poor Hilda did not know what to do, but she went to the closet and
brought out some bread, which she spread with nice fresh butter, and
filled a glass with milk.  She told her she was sorry, but she did not
have any seaweed sandwiches, but she hoped she would like what she had
prepared.  The little mermaid ate it and Hilda was pleased.

"Do you live here all the time?" she asked Hilda. "I should think you
would be very warm and want to be in the water part of the time."

Hilda told her she could not live in the water as she did, because her
body was not like hers.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" replied the mermaid.  "I hoped you would visit me
some time; we have such good times, my sisters and I, under the sea."

"Tell me about your home," said Hilda.

"Come and sit beside me and I will," she replied.

Hilda sat upon the floor by her side.  The mermaid felt of Hilda’s
clothes and thought it must be a bother to have so many clothes.

"How can you swim?" she asked.

Hilda told her she put on a bathing-suit, but the mermaid thought that a
nuisance.

"I will tell you about our house first," she began. "Our father,
Neptune, lives in a beautiful castle at the bottom of the sea.  It is
built of mother-of-pearl. All around the castle grow beautiful green
things, and it has fine white sand around it also.  All my sisters live
there, and we are always glad to get home after we have been at the top
of the ocean, it is so nice and cool in our home.  The wind never blows
there and the rain does not reach us."

"You do not mind being wet by the rain, do you?" asked Hilda.

"Oh no!" said the mermaid, "but the rain hurts us.  It falls in little
sharp points and feels like pebbles."

"How do you know how pebbles feel?" Hilda asked.

"Oh, sometimes the nereids come and bother us; they throw pebbles and
stir up the water so we cannot see."

"Who are the nereids?" asked Hilda.

"They are the sea-nymphs; but we make the dogfish drive them away.  We
are sirens, and they are very jealous of us because we are more
beautiful than they," said the mermaid.

Hilda thought she was rather conceited, but the little mermaid seemed to
be quite unconscious she had conveyed that impression.

"How do you find your way home after you have been at the top of the
ocean?" asked Hilda.

"Oh, when Father Neptune counts us and finds any missing he sends a
whale to spout; sometimes he sends more than one, and we know where to
dive when we see that."

"What do you eat besides seaweed sandwiches?" asked Hilda.

"Fish eggs, and very little fish," answered the mermaid.  "When we have
a party we have cake."

Hilda opened her eyes.  "Where do you get cake?" she asked.

"We make it.  We grind coral into flour and mix it with fish eggs; then
we put it in a shell and send a mermaid to the top of the ocean with it
and she holds it in the sun until it bakes.  We go to the Gulf Stream
and gather grapes and we have sea-foam and lemonade to drink."

"Lemonade?" said Hilda.  "Where do you get your lemons?"

"Why, the sea-lemon!" replied the mermaid; "that is a small mussel-fish
the color of a lemon."

"What do you do at your parties--you cannot dance?" said Hilda.

"We swim to the music, circle around and dive and glide."

"But the music--where do you get musicians?" Hilda continued.

"We have plenty of music," replied the mermaid. "The sea-elephant
trumpets for us; then there is the pipefish, the swordfish runs the
scales of the sea-adder with his sword, the sea-shells blob, and
altogether we have splendid music.  But it is late, and we must not talk
any more."

So the little mermaid curled herself up and soon they were asleep.

The sun shining in the window awakened Hilda next morning and she looked
about her.  The mermaid was not there, but Hilda was sure it had not
been a dream, for she found pieces of seaweed on the floor, and every
time she goes out in her boat she looks for her friend, and when the
whales spout she knows they are telling the mermaids to come home.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Mirror’s Dream]


                          *THE MIRROR’S DREAM*


"The very idea of putting me in the attic!" said the little
old-fashioned table, as it spread out both leaves in a gesture of
despair.  "I have stood in the parlor down-stairs for fifty years, and
now I am consigned to the rubbish-room," and it dropped its leaves at
its side with a sigh.

"I was there longer than that," said the sofa. "Many a courtship I have
helped along."

"What do you think of me?" asked an old mirror that stood on the floor,
leaning against the wall.  "To be brought to the attic after reflecting
generation after generation.  All the famous beauties have looked into
my face; it is a degradation from which I can never recover.  This young
mistress who has come here to live does not seem to understand the
dignity of our position.  Why, I was in the family when her husband’s
grandmother was a girl and she has doomed me to a dusty attic to dream
out the rest of my days."

The shadows deepened in the room and gradually the discarded mirror
ceased to complain.  It had fallen asleep, but later the moonlight
streamed in through the window and showed that its dreams were pleasant
ones, for it dreamed of the old and happy days.

The door opened softly and a young girl entered. Her hair was dark and
hung in curls over her white shoulders.  Her dark eyes wandered over the
room until she saw the old mirror.

She ran across the room and stood in front of it. She wore a hoop-skirt
over which hung her dress of pale gray, with tiny pink ruffles that
began at her slender waist and ended at the bottom of her wide skirt.

Tiny pink rosebuds were dotted over the waist and skirt, and she also
wore them in her dark curls, where one stray blossom bolder than the
others rested against her soft cheek.

She stood before the mirror and gazed at her reflection a minute; then
she curtsied, and said, with a laugh, "I think you will do; he must
speak to-night."

She seemed to fade away in the moonlight, and the door opened again and
a lady entered, and with her came five handsome children.

They went to the mirror, and one little girl with dark curls and pink
cheeks went close and touched it with her finger.  "Look," she said to
the others, "I look just like the picture of mother when she was a
girl."  And as they stood there a gentleman appeared beside them and put
his arm around the lady and the children gathered around them.  They
seemed to walk along the moonlight path and disappear through the
window.

Softly the door opened again and an old lady entered, leaning on the arm
of an old gentleman. They walked to the mirror and he put his arms
around her and kissed her withered cheek.

"You are always young and fair to me," he said, and her face smiled into
the depths of the old mirror.

The moonlight made a halo around their heads as they faded away.

The morning light streamed in through the window and the mirror’s dream
was ended.

By and by the door opened and a young girl came in the room.  Her dark
hair was piled high on her head, and her dark eyes looked over the room
until they fell upon a chest in the corner.  She went to it and opened
it and took out a pale-gray dress with pink ruffles.  She put it on;
then she let down her hair, which fell in curls over her shoulders.

She ran to the old mirror and looked at herself. "I do look like
grandmother," she said.  "I will wear this to the old folks’ party
to-night.  Grandfather proposed to grandmother the night she wore this
dress."  Her cheeks turned very pink as she said this, and she ran out
of the room.

Then one day the door opened again and a bride entered, leaning on the
arm of her young husband. There were tears in her eyes, although she was
smiling. She led him in front of the old mirror.  "This old mirror," she
said, "has seen all the brides in our family for generations, and I am
going far away and may never look into it again.  My brother’s wife does
not want it down-stairs, and I may be the last bride it will ever see,"
and she passed her hand over its frame caressingly.

And then she went away and the old mirror was left to its dreams for
many years.  Then one day the door opened again and a lady entered; with
her was a young girl.

The lady looked around the attic room until she saw the mirror.  "There
it is," she said.  "Come and look in it, dear."  The young girl followed
her. "The last time I looked into this dear old mirror," the lady said,
"was the day your father and I were married.  I never expected to have
it for my own then.  But your uncle’s wife wants to remodel the house,
and these things are in the way; she does not want old-fashioned things,
and they are willing I should have them."

"Oh, mother, they are beautiful!" said the girl, looking around the
room.  "We will never part with them; we will take them to our home and
make them forget they were ever discarded."

And so the mirror and the sofa and the table and many other pieces of
bygone days went to live where they were loved, and the old mirror still
reflects dark-haired girls and ladies, who smile into its depths and see
its beauty as well as their own.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Contest]


                             *THE CONTEST*


The old white rooster was dead.

The hens stood in groups of threes and fours all around the yard, the
turkeys were gathered around the big gobbler and seemed to be talking
very earnestly.

The ducks stood around the old drake, who was shaking his head
emphatically as he talked.

The geese were listening very attentively to the gander, and he was
stretching his neck and seemed to be trying to impress them with its
length.

"I see no reason now why I should not be king of the yard," he was
saying.  "White Rooster is dead and there is no other rooster to take
his place.  I am going to see the hens and ask them what they think.

"White Rooster is dead," he said to them, "and I think I should be king
of the yard.  My neck is very long and I can see over the heads of all
the fowls; I see no reason why I should not take the place of White
Rooster."

The turkeys and the geese, seeing the gander approach the hens, ran as
fast as they could to hear what he was saying.

The turkey gobbler, hearing the last part of the gander’s remark, said:
"How can you say that you can see over all heads?  Have you forgotten me
and my height?  And as for being king," he said, "the rooster never
should have been cock of the walk.  I am a much more majestic-looking
bird than any rooster. No, indeed, you should never think of ruling, Sir
Gander.  I should be king of the yard."

The gobbler walked away, spreading out his wings and letting them drag
on the ground and gobbling very loudly.

The ducks and the drake stood listening to all this talk, and as the
gobbler walked away the drake said: "I cannot understand why any one
should think of being king when I know so much of the world.  I am the
one to rule, for I have been all around the pond, and it is very large;
because of my knowledge I think I should be king."

"He must not be king," whispered one old hen to another; "he would make
us go in the water, and we will all be drowned."

They had talked a long time without reaching any decision, when the dog
happened along.  "What is the matter?" he asked.

"The old white rooster is dead," said the gobbler, who had returned with
his family to hear the discussion, "and I think I should be king, and
the drake and the gander think they should, but, of course, you can see
that I am best suited to rule the yard."

"You can settle that very easily," said the dog. "You can all take a
turn at being king, and in that way you will know who is best suited to
rule."  And so it was decided, and the gobbler was the first one to go
on trial.  The poor hens tagged along after the turkeys, for the gobbler
insisted upon parading all around the yard.  The gander and the drake
would not follow behind, so the gander and his family walked on one side
of the gobbler, and the drake and his family on the other.

The poor hens wept as they followed behind.  "I never was so humiliated
in my life," said one old hen, "and it is not right."

The next day there was so much dissatisfaction because of the gobbler’s
overbearing way that the dog decided that the drake must take his turn.

"Everybody must learn to swim," said the drake as soon as he was
appointed ruler.  "Come down to the pond," and off he started, his
family waddling after him.

"What did I tell you?" said the old hen.  "This will be the end of us."

The geese did not mind being in the water part of the time, but the
turkeys set up such a gobble and the hens cackled so loudly that the dog
had to decide right there that the drake was not a suitable king.

The gander, knowing that his time had come, stretched his neck and
looked very important.

"You need not go near the pond," he said to the hens, "but you must
learn to fly," and he spread out his wings as he spoke and flew over the
fence, the geese following him.

The turkeys flew to the top of the fence and roosted there, but the hens
and ducks stood on the ground, looking up at them in the most
discouraged way, and at the gobbler, who gobbled at them, saying, "You
are to be pitied, for you do not see all the sights we do and you never
can fly to the top of this fence.

"There is the master," he said.  "He is coming down the road and he has
something under his arm. I’ll tell you what it is when he gets nearer."

The hens were trying to look under the fence and through the holes.

The gobbler looked for a minute, and then he said: "I do believe--" then
he stopped.  "Yes, it is," he continued, looking again; "it’s a
rooster."

The gobbler flew down and the turkeys followed and the master drove the
gander and his family back to the yard.  "You will get your wings
clipped to-morrow," he said, and then from under his arm he released a
big yellow-and-black rooster, which flew to the ground, looked about,
spread his wings and crowed in a way that plainly said: "I am cock of
this walk and king of this yard.  Let none dispute my rights."

The drake collected his family and started for the pond, and the gander
and geese followed along behind.

The turkey spread his wings and held his head high as he strutted away
with his family.  But he did not impress the new rooster; he was ruler
and he knew it.

"Now the sun will know when to rise," said one hen, "and we shall know
when to awake."

"Yes," said another, "and we have had a narrow escape; it looked for a
while as if our family were to lose its social standing, but now that we
have a new king we can hold up our heads again and look down on the
others, if we have to go to the top of the wood-pile to do it."

The dog laughed to himself as he walked away. "I knew all the time," he
said, "that the new rooster was coming, but I thought it would do them
good to know they were only fitted to care for their own flock."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Pink and Blue Eggs]


                        *THE PINK AND BLUE EGGS*


"I tell you I saw them with my own eyes," said old White Hen, standing
on one foot with her neck outstretched and her bill wide open.  "One was
pink and the other was blue.  They were just like any other egg as far
as size, but the color--think of it--pink and blue eggs.  Whoever could
have laid them?"  Old White Hen looked from one to the other of the
group of hens and chickens as they stood around her.

"Well, I know that I didn’t," said Speckled Hen.

"You needn’t look at me," said Brown Hen.  "I lay large white eggs, and
you know it, every one of you.  They are the best eggs in the yard, if I
do say it."

"Oh, I would not say that," said White Hen. "You seem to forget that the
largest egg ever seen in this yard was laid by me, and it was a little
on the brown color; white eggs are all well enough, but give me a brown
tone for quality."

"You never laid such a large egg as that but once," replied Brown Hen,
"and everybody thought it was a freak egg, so the least said about it
the better, it seems to me."

"It is plain to understand how you feel about that egg," said White Hen,
"but it does not help us to find out who laid the blue and pink eggs."

"Where did you see them?" asked Speckled Hen.

"On the table, by the window of the farm-house," said old White Hen.  "I
flew up on a barrel that stood under the window, and then I stretched my
neck and looked in the window, and there on the table, in a little
basket, I saw those strange-looking eggs."

"Perhaps the master had bought them for some one of us to sit on and
hatch out," said Brown Hen.

"Well, I, for one, refuse to do it," said White Hen. "I think it would
be an insult to put those gaudy things into our nests."

"I am sure I will not hatch them," said Speckled Hen.  "I would look
funny hiking around here with a blue chick and a pink chick beside me,
and I a speckled hen.  No!  I will not mother fancy-colored chicks; the
master can find another hen to do that."

"You do not think for a minute that I would do such a thing, I hope,"
said Brown Hen.  "I only mentioned the fact that the master might have
such an idea, but as for mixing up colors, I guess not.  My little
yellow darlings shall not be disgraced by a blue and a pink chick
running with them."

"Perhaps White Hen is color-blind," said Speckled Hen.  "The eggs she
saw may be white, after all."

"If you doubt my word or my sight go and look for yourselves," said
White Hen, holding her head high.  "You will find a blue and a pink egg,
just as I told you."

Off ran Speckled Hen and Brown Hen, followed by many others, and all the
chicks in the yard.

One after another they flew to the top of the barrel and looked in the
window at the eggs White Hen had told them of.  It was all too true; the
eggs were blue and pink.

"Peep, peep, peep, peep, we want to see the blue and pink eggs, too,"
cried the chickens.  "We never saw any and we want to look at them."

"Oh dear! why did I talk before them?" said Brown Hen.  "They will not
be quiet unless they see, and how in the world shall I get them up to
that window?"

"Did it ever occur to you not to give them everything they cry for?"
said White Hen.  "Say ’No’ once in a while; it will save you a lot of
trouble."

"I cannot bear to deny the little darlings anything," said Brown Hen,
clucking her little brood and trying to quiet them.

"Well, you better begin now, for this is one of the things you will not
be able to do."  said White Hen, strutting over to the dog-house to tell
the story of the blue and pink eggs to Towser.

"Wouldn’t it be just too awful if the master puts those eggs in one of
our nests?" asked White Hen, when she had finished her story.

"Oh--oh!" laughed Towser, "that is a good joke on you; don’t know your
own eggs when you see them."

"Don’t tell me I laid those fancy-colored eggs," said White Hen, looking
around to see if any of her companions were within hearing distance.  "I
know I never did."

"But you did," said Towser, laughing again.  "I heard the master say to
my little mistress, ’If you want eggs to color for Easter take the ones
that White Hen laid; they are not so large as the others, and I cannot
sell them so well.’"

"Towser, if you will never mention what you have just told me I will
tell you where I saw a great big bone this morning," said White Hen.  "I
was saving it for myself.  I like to pick at one once in a while, but
you shall have it if you promise to keep secret what you just told me."

Towser promised, and White Hen showed where it was hidden.

A few days after Brown Hen said: "I wonder when master is going to bring
out those fancy eggs.  If he leaves them in the house much longer no one
will be able to hatch them."

"Oh!  I forgot to tell you that those eggs were not real eggs, after
all," said White Hen, "but only Easter eggs for the master’s little girl
to play with, so we had all our worry for nothing.  Towser told me, but
don’t say a word to him, for I did not let on that we were worried and
didn’t know they were only make-believe eggs; he thinks he is so wise,
you know, it would never do to let him know how we were fooled."



[Illustration: headpiece to Why the Morning-glory Sleeps]


                     *WHY THE MORNING-GLORY SLEEPS*


One day the flowers got into a very angry discussion over the sun, of
whom they were very fond.

"Surely you all must know that he loves me best," said the rose.  "He
shines upon me and makes me sweeter than any of you, and he gives me the
colors that are most admired by man."

"I do not see how you can say that," said the dahlia.  "You may give
forth more fragrance than I can, but you cannot think for a second that
you are more beautiful.  Why, my colors are richer than yours and last
much longer!  The sun certainly loves me the best."

The modest lily looked at the dahlia and said in a low, sweet voice, "I
do not wish to be bold, but I feel that the sun loves me and that I
should let you know that he gives to me more fragrance than to any of
you."

"Oh, oh!  Hear lily!" said the others in chorus. "She thinks the king of
day loves her best."

The lily hung her head and said no more, for the other flowers quite
frightened her with their taunts.

"How can any of you think you are the best beloved of the sun?" said
goldenglow.  "When you behold my glowing color which the sun bestows on
me, do any of you look so much like him as I do? No, indeed; he loves me
best."

The hollyhock looked down on the others with pitying glances.  "It is
plain to be seen that you have never noticed that the sun shines on me
with more warmth than on you, and now I must tell you he loves me best
and gives me the tenderest of his smiles.  See how tall I am and how
gorgeous are my colors.  He loves me best."

"When it comes to sweetness, I am sure you have forgotten me," said the
honeysuckle.  "Why, the king of day loves me best, you may be sure!  He
makes me give forth more sweetness than any of you."

"You may be very sweet," said the pansy, "but surely you know that my
pet name is heart’s-ease and that the sun loves me best.  To none of you
does he give such velvet beauty as to me.  I am nearest his heart and
his best beloved."

The morning-glory listened to all this with envy in her heart.  She did
not give forth sweetness, as many of the others, neither did she possess
the beauty of the rose or the pansy.

"If only I could get him to notice me," she thought. "I am dainty and
frail, and I am sure he would admire me if only he could behold me; but
the others are always here and in such glowing colors that poor little
me is overshadowed by their beauty."

All day morning-glory thought of the sun and wondered how she could
attract his attention to herself, and at night she smiled, for she had
thought of a plan. She would get up early in the morning and greet him
before the other flowers were awake.

She went to bed early that night so that she might not oversleep in the
morning, and when the first streak of dawn showed in the sky
morning-glory opened her eyes and shook out her delicate folds.  The dew
was on her and she turned her face toward the sun.

As soon as she peeped into the garden the sun beheld her.  "How dainty
and lovely you are!" he said.  "I have never noticed before the beauty
of your colors, morning-glory," and he let his warm glances fall and
linger upon her.

The sunflower all this time was watching with jealous eyes, for she was
the one who had always welcomed the sun, and this morning he seemed to
have entirely forgotten her.

Still sunflower kept her gaze upon them and wondered what she could do
to win back her king from the delicate little morning-glory.

But as she looked she saw the morning-glory sway and nod her head.  "She
is going to sleep," said the sunflower; "his warm breath makes her
drowsy, or else she was up so early that she cannot keep awake."

While the sunflower watched, sure enough the morning-glory nodded and
closed her eyes.  She was fast asleep, and the fickle sun, seeing that
she no longer looked upon him, looked away and beheld the sunflower
looking toward him with longing eyes.

"Good morning, King," she said, as she caught his eye, and she was wise
enough not to let him know she had seen him before.  So the sun smiled
and turned his face upon them all, and the sunflower kept to herself
what she had seen, knowing full well that she was the one who knew best
how to keep his first and last glances.

A little later one of the flowers called out: "Look at morning-glory;
she is still sleeping.  Let us tell her it is time to awaken."

"Morning-glory! morning-glory!" they called, but she did not answer.
She was sound asleep.

"That is strange," said the rose.  "I wonder if she has gone to sleep
never to awake.  I have heard of such things happening."

After two or three mornings the other flowers ceased to notice
morning-glory, for they thought she had ceased to be one of them, but
the wise sunflower kept her own counsel.  She knew that morning-glory
had to sleep all day in order that she might not miss the sun; but, as I
told you, she was wise enough not to complain, and she kept his love for
her by so doing.



[Illustration: headpiece to Dorothy and the Portrait]


                       *DOROTHY AND THE PORTRAIT*


Dorothy was very fond of her grandmother and grandfather, and liked to
visit them, but there were no little girls to play with, and sometimes
she was lonely for some one her own age.  She would wander about the
house looking for the queer things that grandmothers always have in
their homes.  The hall clock interested Dorothy very much.  It stood on
the landing at the top of the stairs, and she used to sit and listen to
its queer tick-tock and watch the hands, which moved with little nervous
jumps.  Then there were on its face the stars and the moon and the sun,
and they all were very wonderful to Dorothy. One day she went into the
big parlor, where there were pictures of her grandfather and
grandmother, and her great-grandfather and great-grandmother, also.

Dorothy thought the "greats" looked very sedate, and she felt sure they
must have been very old to have been the parents of her grandfather.
But the picture that interested her the most was a large painting of
three children, one a little girl about her own age, and one other
older, and a boy, who wore queer-looking trousers, cut off below the
knee.  His suit was of black velvet, and he wore white stockings and
black shoes.  The little girls were dressed in white, and their dresses
had short sleeves and low necks.  The older girl had black hair, but the
one that Dorothy thought was her age had long, golden curls like hers,
only the girl in the picture wore her hair parted, and the curls hung
all about her face.

Dorothy climbed into a big chair and sat looking at them.  "I wish they
could play with me," she thought, and she smiled at the little
golden-haired girl.  And then, wonderful to tell, the girl in the
picture smiled at Dorothy.

"Oh! are you alive?" asked Dorothy.

"Of course I am," the little girl replied.  "I will come down, if you
would like to have me, and visit with you."

"Oh, I should be so glad to have you!" Dorothy answered.

Then the boy stepped to the edge of the frame, and from there to the top
of a big chair which stood under the picture, and stood in the chair
seat.  He held out his hand to the little girls and helped them to the
floor in the most courtly manner.  Dorothy got out of her chair and
asked them to be seated, and the boy placed chairs for them beside her.

"What is your name?" asked the golden-haired girl, for she was the only
one who spoke.

"That was my name," she said, when Dorothy told her.  "I lived in this
house," she continued, "and we used to have such good times.  This is my
sister and my brother."  The little girl and boy smiled, but they let
their sister do all the talking. "We used to roast chestnuts in the
fireplace," she said, "and once we had a party in this room, and played
all sorts of games."

Dorothy could not imagine that quiet room filled with children.

"Do you remember how we frightened poor old Uncle Zack in this room?"
she said to her brother and sister, and then they all laughed.

"Do tell me about it," said Dorothy.

"These glass doors by the fireplace did not have curtains in our day,"
said the little girl, "and there were shells and other things from the
ocean in one cupboard, and in the other there were a sword and a helmet
and a pair of gauntlets.  My brother wrapped a sheet around him and put
on the helmet and the gauntlets, and, taking the sword in his hand, he
climbed into the cupboard and sat down.  We girls closed the doors and
hid behind the sofa.  Uncle Zack came in to fix the fire, and my brother
beckoned to him.  Poor Zack dropped the wood he was carrying and fell on
his knees, trembling with fright. The door was not fastened and my
brother pushed it open and pointed the sword at poor Uncle Zack.

"’Don’ hurt a po’ ol’ nigger,’ said Zack, very faintly.  ’I ’ain’ don’
noffin’, ’deed I ’ain’.’

"’You told about the jam the children ate,’ said my brother, in a deep
voice, ’and you know you drank the last drop of rum Mammy Sue had for
her rheumatism, and for this you must be punished,’ and he brought the
sword down on the floor of the cupboard with a bang.

"Poor Uncle Zack fell on his face with fright.  This was too much for my
sister and me, and we laughed out.

"You never saw any one change so quickly as Uncle Zack.  He jumped up
and we ran, but my brother had to get out of his disguise, and Uncle
Zack caught him.  He agreed not to tell our father if we did not tell
about his fright, and so we escaped being punished."

"Tell me more about your life in this old house," said Dorothy, when the
little girl finished her story. But just then the picture of Dorothy’s
great-grandmother moved and out she stepped from her frame. She walked
with a very stately air toward the children and put her hand on the
shoulder of the little girl who had been telling the story, and said:
"You better go back to your frame now."

"Oh dear!" said the little girl.  "I did so dislike being grown up, and
I had forgotten all about it, when my grown-up self reminds me.  That is
the trouble when you are in the room with your grown-up picture," she
told Dorothy.  "You see, I had to be so sedate after I married that I
never even dared to think of my girlhood, but you come in here again
some day and I will tell you more about the good times we had."

The boy mounted the chair first and helped his sisters back into the
frame.  Dorothy looked for her great-grandmother, but she, too, was back
in her frame, looking as sedate as ever.  The next day Dorothy asked her
grandmother who the children were in the big picture.

"This one," she said, pointing to the little golden-haired girl, "was
your great-grandmother; you were named for her; and the other little
girl and boy were your grandfather’s aunt and uncle.  They were your
great-great-aunt and uncle."

Dorothy did not quite understand the "great-great" part of it, but she
was glad to know that her stately-looking great-grandmother had once
been a little girl like her, and some day, when the great-grandmother’s
picture is not looking, she expects to hear more about the fun the
children had in the days long ago.



[Illustration: headpiece to Mistress Pussy’s Mistake]


                       *MISTRESS PUSSY’S MISTAKE*


A very kind gentleman, who lived in a big house which was in the midst
of a beautiful park, had a handsome cat of which he was very fond. While
he felt sure Pussy was fond of him, he knew very well she would hurt the
birds, so he put a pretty ribbon around Pussy’s neck, and on it a little
silver bell which tinkled whenever she moved and this warned the birds
that she was near.

Pussy resented this, but pretended she did not care.  One day a thrush
was singing very sweetly on the bough of a tree which overhung a small
lake. Pussy walked along under the tree, and, looking up at the thrush,
said: "Madam Thrush, you have a most beautiful voice, and you are a very
handsome bird.  I do wish I were nearer to you, for I am not so young as
I was once, and I cannot hear so well."

The thrush trilled a laugh at Pussy, and said: "Yes, Miss Puss, I can
well believe you wish me nearer, but not to see or hear me better, but
that you might grasp me."

Pussy pretended not to hear the last remark, but said: "My beautiful
Thrush, will you not come down where I can hear you better?  I cannot
get about as nimbly as I used to when I was young, or I would go to
you."

"I cannot sing so well on the ground," replied the thrush.  "You can
come up here, even if you are not so spry as you were.  But tell me, do
you not find the bell you wear very trying to your nerves?"

"Oh no," answered sly Pussy.  "It is so pretty that I’m glad to wear it,
and my master thinks I am so handsome that he likes to see me dressed
well. And then he can always find me when he hears the bell.  That is
why I wear it."

"I understand," answered the thrush, "and we birds are always glad to
hear it, too."  And she trilled another laugh at Pussy and added, "You
are certainly a very handsome creature, Miss Puss."

Pussy all this time had very slowly climbed the tree, for she wanted the
thrush to think she was old and slow, but the bird had her bright eyes
upon her. When Pussy reached the branch the thrush was on she stopped
and seated herself.

"Now, my pretty little friend, do sing to me your loudest song."

She hoped it would be loud enough to drown the tinkle of the bell.  The
thrush began and was soon singing very sweetly.  Pussy took a very
cautious step and then remained quiet.  The thrush stopped singing and
spread her wings.

"Oh, do not stop!" said Puss.  "Your song was so soothing I was in a
doze; do sing again."  And she moved a little closer.

The thrush took a step nearer to the end of the bough and said: "I am
glad you like my voice.  I will sing again if it pleases you so much."

She began her song, but she kept her eyes on Puss, and as Puss drew
nearer she moved closer to the end of the swinging bough.

She had reached a very high note when Puss gave a spring, but the thrush
was too quick; she flew out of Pussy’s reach, and splash went Pussy into
the lake, for she had not noticed that the thrush was moving to the end
of the bough, so intent was she on the thought of catching her.

Poor Pussy was very wet when she scrambled to the bank of the lake, and
the birds were chirping and making a great noise.

"How did you like your bath, Miss Puss?" the thrush called to her.  "You
should never lay traps for others, for often you fall into them
yourself."



[Illustration: headpiece to Kid]


                                 *KID*


Kid was one of those little boys who seemed to have grown up on the
streets of the big city where he lived.

He never remembered a mother or a father, and no one ever took care of
him.  His first remembrance was of an old woman who gave him a crust of
bread, and he slept in the corner of her room.  One day they carried her
away, and since then Kid had slept in a doorway or an alley.

By selling papers he managed to get enough to eat, and if he did not
have the money he stole to satisfy his hunger.

He was often cold and hungry, but he saw many other children that were
in the same condition, and he did not suppose that any one ever had
enough to eat or a warm place to sleep every night.

Kid went in to the Salvation Army meetings, when they held them in his
neighborhood, because it was a place where the wind did not blow, and
while there he heard them sing and talk about Some One who loved
everybody and would help you if only you would ask Him.  Kid was never
able to find out just where this Person lived, and, therefore, he could
not ask for help.

One day Kid saw a lady who was too well dressed to belong in his part of
the city, and he followed her, thinking that she might have a
pocket-book he could take.  The opportunity did not offer itself,
however, and before Kid realized it he was in a part of the city he had
never seen before.

The buildings were tall and the streets much cleaner than where he
lived.  Kid walked along, looking in windows of the stores, when he
noticed a lady standing beside him with a jeweled watch hanging from her
belt.

He had never seen anything so beautiful or so easy to take, and he
waited for a few more people to gather around the window, and then he
carefully reached for the watch, and with one pull off came the trinket,
and away ran Kid, like a deer, with the watch clasped firmly in his
begrimed little hand.

On and on he ran, not knowing where he was going--nor caring, for that
matter--and it seemed to Kid that the whole world was crying, "Stop,
thief!" and was chasing him.

After a while the noise grew fainter and fainter and he stopped and
looked back.  There was not a person in sight.

Kid looked around him.  All the houses were large with clean stone steps
in front of them.  Kid sat down on the bottom step of one of these
houses and looked at his treasure.

He held it to his ear and heard its soft tick, then he looked at the
sparkling stones on the case.  He opened it and watched the little hands
move, then he opened the back part, and there was the picture of a baby,
a little boy, Kid thought.  Around its chubby face were curls, and its
eyes were large and earnest-looking.  Kid sat gazing at it for some
minutes, wondering who it was.  When he looked up he saw a large
building across the street with a steeple on it, and on the top of that
a cross.

The door of the building was open, and after a while Kid walked across
the street and up the long, wide steps.  He went in and looked
cautiously about. It was still and no one was to be seen.

There were two doors, and Kid went to one of them and pushed it open.
He thought for a minute he was dreaming, for he did not suppose that
anything so grand could be real.

There were rows and rows of seats, and at the very end of the big room
Kid saw a light.  He walked down one of the aisles to where the little
flame was burning, and stood in front of the altar.

Kid looked at everything with a feeling of awe, but he had not the
slightest idea of what it all meant, and he wondered who lived in this
beautiful house, and thought it strange that no one appeared and told
him to go out.

There were pictures on the wall and Kid came to one of a sweet-faced
lady who was holding a little child.  Kid started and stepped back as he
looked at it.  "It is the baby in the watch," he said.  "This must be
where he lives and that is his mother."  Some one was coming.  He was
caught at last, he felt sure.  He slid into a pew and crawled under the
seat and kept very still--so still, in fact, that he fell asleep. When
he awoke a light was burning in the church and its rays fell across the
picture of the mother and child in such a way that the eyes of the
mother seemed to be looking straight at Kid under the seat.

For the first time in his life he felt like crying. "I wish I had a
mother," he thought, "and I should like to have her hold me in her arms
just as that little boy’s mother is holding him.  I would tell her about
this watch and perhaps she would tell me how to get it back to the
lady."

Kid crept from under the seat and stood up, and coming toward him down
the aisle was a man.  Kid thought he wore a queer-looking costume, and
he dodged back of the seat; but the man had seen him and there was no
use in trying to run away; besides that, Kid was not at all sure that he
wished to get away.

"Is this your house?" asked Kid, when the man came up to him.

"No, my son," he replied; "this is the house of God."

Kid’s heart leaped for joy; that was the name of the One the Salvation
Army people told him about, who loved everybody and helped you.

"If you please," said Kid, "I should like to see Him."

The good man looked at Kid very earnestly, and then he said, "If you
will tell me what you wish to see Him about, I am sure I can help you."

Kid told him about the watch and that he felt sure the lady lived there,
as the baby in the big picture was very much like the picture in the
watch.  "And if this is God’s house," said Kid, "I thought He might be
the father and forgive me.  I am very sorry that I took it."

The good man took Kid by the hand.  "Come with me," he said; "you are
forgiven, I am sure."

Kid was given a good supper, and for the first time in his life he slept
in a real bed.

The next day the good man found the owner of the watch, and when she
heard Kid’s story she forgave him.

Kid was placed in a school, where he learned to be a good boy, as well
as to be studious, and he soon forgot the old life.  He grew to be a man
of whom any mother could have been proud.  But the only mother Kid ever
knew was the mother of the little boy in the picture, which he cherishes
as a thing sacred in his life.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Shoemaker Rat]


                          *THE SHOEMAKER RAT*


One day a rat gnawed his way into a pantry, and after he had eaten all
he wanted he grew bold and went into the kitchen.

There the cook saw him and chased him with a broom, but, not being able
to hit him as he ran out of the door, she picked up a pair of shoes that
were standing near and threw them after him.

The rat picked them up and put them on.  On his way home he met a cat.
"What have you on your feet?" he asked the rat.

"Can you not see, my dear Tom?" said the rat. "They are shoes.  I am a
shoemaker, and, of course, must wear my own product."

"Make me a pair," said the cat, "and I will spare your life."

"Very well," replied the rat, "but first you must bring me some
leather."

So the cat ran away and brought back two hides.

When the rat saw the amount of leather he was struck with an idea.  "My
dear Tom," he said, "I can make you a suit of clothes and a pair of
gloves as well as the shoes, and you will be the envy of all the other
cats."

Tom was delighted and told the rat to hurry and make the outfit.

The wise rat first made the gloves and covered Tom’s sharp claws.  Then
he made the shoes for the hind feet, and when he had that done he felt
safe.

"Now you must wait," he said; "until I get something with which I can
fasten the coat."  He ran away and returned with some long, sharp
thorns.

Next the rat put the leather around Tom’s body and drew it tight,
fastening it with a thorn which he pushed so that the sharp point
pricked Tom.

"What are you doing?" asked Tom, angry at being hurt; but he could not
move, the leather costume was so stiff and tight, but he grabbed at the
rat with his mouth, and caught him by the tail.

The rat ran, leaving his tail in Tom’s mouth.

"I’ll know you," Tom called after him.  "When I am out of this suit I
will catch you and eat you."

The rat had not thought of that and he wondered what he should do, but
he was a wise old fellow, and when he reached home he called all his
brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts about him.

"I met a cat to-day," he said, "who had been to the city where all the
styles are new, and he told me that all the city rats are having their
tails cut off, so I had mine done.  If you want to be in style," he told
them, "you must have your tails like mine."

"Does it hurt?" asked one.

"Not a bit," answered the sly fellow, "and you have no idea how
comfortable it is running about without a tail to look after.  It is
very expensive to have it cut," he explained; "that is the only
difficult part.  I had to pay twenty pieces of cheese.  But I watched
while another fellow was having his cut, and I am sure I can do it as
well as the rat that did mine. And if you wish to be in style at a very
low rate I will take off your tails for five pieces of cheese each."

The rats all agreed, and ran away to get the cheese, and while they were
gone the wise rat ran for a chopping-knife.

Soon he had the tails cut and a goodly store of cheese.  "Now," he said
to himself, "Tom will never know me from the other rats."

He kept his eyes open for Tom, who had called his friends to help him
out of his suit and told them to watch for a rat without a tail.  But
when they saw all the tailless rats they gave up looking for one who had
put Tom into the suit of leather, and Tom, not liking to hunt any too
well, gave it up also.  "But the next time I meet a rat," said Tom, "I
will catch him, no matter whether he has a tail or not."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Poppies]


                             *THE POPPIES*


A long distance from here, in a far Eastern country, there once lived a
very rich king. All kings are not rich, you know, but this one was, and
his jewels were the most beautiful ever seen.

But this king dearly loved all the good things of this world and gave
feasts and dances that lasted for days without any one sleeping.  Of
course he could not lead such a life as that and have good health, and
at last there came a time when the king could not sleep.

At last he offered a reward to any one who could put him to sleep, no
matter how it was accomplished. He said to the one who could do this he
would give half his kingdom.

The poor king was the subject for many experiments, and when he had
almost given up hope of ever sleeping again there came a strange-looking
man to the gate of the castle.  He wore a turban and a long, flowing
robe of white, and wore around his neck many chains and strings of
queer-looking beads.

"I can make the king sleep," he said, "but I must be allowed to have the
grounds of the castle to myself and the king must obey me in every way."

The king was ready to do anything, and so the strange-looking man began
his work, but before he would do anything for the king he insisted upon
having half the kingdom given into his hands, and when this was done he
set to work.  No one was allowed to be near him, and the king was left
alone in the castle with him.

One morning, not long after, the king saw what looked to be a sea of
green all around the castle, but it really was a bed of green leaves,
and soon there appeared white flowers among the leaves, and then the
strange man told the king to walk among them.

Soon the king felt a drowsy feeling stealing over him, and he sat down
in the midst of the sea of green and in a few minutes he was sound
asleep.

Then the strange man began to repeat something in a sing-song tone and
wave his hands over the sleeping king.  He walked among the leaves and
flowers, repeating his queer rhyme, and the leaves and flowers grew
taller and taller until the king could not be seen, and the man moved
away, still chanting:

    "Poppy, poppy, flower of sleep,
    Your drowsy spell around him keep,
    For I can all his kingdom take
    If you do not let him wake."


The poppies grew until they reached the top of the castle, and every one
who went near to look for the king fell under the spell of their strange
power until the people around gave it up and the strange man became
king; he built a new castle and the old one was forgotten.

All went well with the new king until a young man called at his castle
and asked him about the old king, and the servants told him how the
strange flowers had grown around the castle and no one could go near,
and that every one thought that the old king was dead.

The new king, when he heard that the stranger was asking for the old
king, had him driven from the castle.

"Tell your master," said the stranger to the servants, "that he will
hear from me again."

The stranger went into the woods, where there lived an old witch, and at
midnight they came out and went to the castle among the strange flowers.

The witch held her hands high over her head and waved them up and down,
saying all the time:

    "Poppy, poppy, sleepy flower,
    Now I have you in my power.
    I would have you shorter grow
    Until the sleeping one you show."


Down came the tall flowers and bushes until the young man cried out,
"Here he is," and then the flowers ceased to grow small.  The witch
knelt beside the sleeping king and whispered in his ear:

    "Awake, good king, ’tis break of day,
    And drive the false king far away."


The king opened his eyes and looked at the witch and the young man
beside her.  "What has happened?" he asked.

"I will leave you to tell him," said the witch. "The sun is up and I
must go."

"When you offered to give half your kingdom to the one who could make
you sleep," said the young man, "I set out for your castle with a box
which contained a strange flower that had the power to make people
sleep, but it had to be used with the greatest care, and I alone knew
the secret of using it, for it was given to my grandmother by an old
witch doctor.

"Before I could reach you I was overtaken by a band of robbers and the
box stolen.  They made me tell what I intended doing with the flower, on
pain of death, but I did not tell the whole secret.  Then they put me in
a cave and rolled a stone in front of it too heavy for me to move, and
left.  I was almost dead from starvation when I was found by some
peasants, who nursed me until I was well enough to travel, when I
hurried here, only to find that one of the band of robbers had taken
your whole kingdom after putting you to sleep with the charmed flower.

"He drove me from the castle when he heard that I was asking for you,
and if it had not been for the witch who lives in the wood I should not
have been able to awaken you.  She knew the secret, as she is the
daughter of the witch who gave the flower to my grandmother."

When the king heard the strange story he hurried with the young man to
the castle where the robber king lived.  He was asleep when they
arrived, and the servants, who did not like their new master, ran out to
meet the old king, and when they heard what had happened they went back
to the castle and bound the robber while he slept, and when he awoke he
was so frightened that he promised to tell where the rest of his band
could be found if they would spare his life.

This they promised to do, and the country was rid of these bad men, for
they were put on a ship and made to work the rest of their lives.

The king was so grateful to the young man who rescued him that he made
him his heir, and when the king died he left him his kingdom.



[Illustration: headpiece to Little China Doll]


                          *LITTLE CHINA DOLL*


In a shop window sat a little China Doll.  She had been in the store so
long she could not remember ever living in any other place.

Long, long ago there were other china dolls, but one by one some little
girl had carried them away and she was left alone.  China Doll had black
painted hair and big, staring eyes, and her lips and cheeks were very
red.  Her body was filled with sawdust and her hands and arms to the
elbow were china, as were her feet and legs to her knees.

By and by wax dolls came to the store; they had real hair, all curls,
and eyes that would open and close, and poor China Doll was set back in
the window, and after a while she was put in a box on the shelf and
taken out only once a year--at Christmas-time--when she was dusted and
put in the window again.  She felt very lonely with so many stylish wax
dolls, and as she had given up hope of ever being chosen by any little
girl, she was glad when the little old lady who kept the store put her
back in the box on the shelf.

At last there came a time when the children no longer came to the store,
but went to the big city for their toys, and China Doll and the little
old store-keeper grew old together.

China Doll sat in the window all the time now, with tape and thread and
other useful things, but was the only thing little folk could want.

One day in summer a tally-ho stopped in front of the store, and a party
of young people came in. They bought a number of things and filled the
old store with their laughter.  Suddenly the prettiest girl reached into
the window and took out China Doll.  "Oh, you dear, quaint little doll!"
she said.  "My grandmother has one just like this, girls, and I have
asked her many times to give it to me to make a French pincushion, but
she will not let me have it."

Oh, how China Doll’s heart beat!  Could it be true that she was going at
last?  Yes, the pretty girl bought her and took her away on the
tally-ho.

The next day she dressed China Doll in the prettiest silk dress, such a
one as she had dreamed of years ago, with an overskirt and purled
sleeves.  Then she made her the dearest poke-bonnet trimmed with little
roses.  She also made her a pair of kid boots.

When China Doll was all dressed the pretty girl put a ribbon over her
arm, and on each end was a little bandbox.  Then she stood China Doll on
her dressing-table and used the little boxes for pincushions. And there
China Doll lived a very happy life, which teaches that all things come
to those who wait.



[Illustration: headpiece to The Disorderly Girl]


                         *THE DISORDERLY GIRL*


Louise was just going out of the door with her sled when her mother
called to her.  Louise hesitated, for she knew that her mother was
calling her to make her play-room tidy and she wanted to go coasting
with the other children.

She went back slowly and asked, "What is it, mother?"

"Your play-room must be put in order before you can go out to play," her
mother replied.  "You have had plenty of time this week to do it, but
you have neglected it, and now you cannot put it off another day."

"Why can’t Jane do it?" asked Louise.

"Jane will clean the room," her mother replied, "but it is your duty to
pick up the books and toys that are strewn around."

Louise pouted, but she knew that she must do as her mother said, and she
took off her hat and coat and went up to her play-room.  She went in and
closed the door.  It certainly was a very disorderly-looking room.
Books were on the floor and games were on the table, doll clothes were
strewn in all parts of the room.

Louise had picked up most of the things when she saw from the window her
little friend Clara passing the house.  "Clara!" she called, "wait for
me, I have to put my play-room in order before I can go coasting."  But
Clara would not wait.

Louise closed the window, threw herself on the couch, and began to cry,
saying she thought it was mean everybody was going coasting but her.

All at once she saw two little girls walking toward her.  They looked
just like her dolls--Bella and Emily--only they were as large as
herself.

Louise tried to get up, but she was unable to move.

"Let us undress her," said Bella Doll, coming over to Louise and lifting
her by one arm.

"Yes," said Emily Doll, "and comb her hair."

Then Louise knew what had happened--she had turned into a doll and the
dolls had become little girls.

The doll girls undressed Louise and put on her nightdress, pulling it
over her head in the most careless manner, Louise thought.  Then they
combed her hair, pulling it terribly.

"I wonder how she likes to have her hair pulled," said Bella Doll.

"She knows how it feels, now," said Emily.

"I think she better go out," said Bella Doll, "instead of going to bed,"
and they dressed her in a thin white dress.  "Now we will take her out
in the cold; that is the way she does with us."

They fastened her clothes with pins and pushed them right through her
body, and after she was dressed they changed their minds about taking
her out and threw her on the floor and began playing games.

"I wonder if they are going to leave me here," thought Louise.  "Some
one will be sure to step on me."  Just then she saw a Teddy Bear lying
on his side under the couch.  "Why are you under there?" Louise asked.

"The little girl who was playing with me dropped me back of the couch a
week ago," he said, "and I have been here ever since, and you will
probably remain on the floor where you are now, for she never picks up
her toys.  She is a very careless girl."

Louise did not reply, for just then Emily Doll came over to the couch
for a book and pushed Louise out of the way with her foot.  Bella Doll
set out a croquet set and one of the balls hit Louise on the head.  Then
Emily dropped her book and said: "Come along, Bella, let us go
outdoors."

Louise watched them as they went out.  "Oh, this is the way she always
leaves her room," said Teddy Bear, for he could not see from under the
couch there were two little girls, and thought it was Louise who went
out of the door.  "She never thinks of us," the Teddy Bear continued,
"or how uncomfortable we may be, for she is a very careless and untidy
girl."

The door opened and Bella Doll came in.  She went over to the couch for
her hat and Louise saw her foot over her head.  "She will break me if
she steps on me," cried poor Louise, and she jumped up as she cried
aloud.  There she was on the couch.  She had been asleep.  She got up
and finished her work, when suddenly she thought of the Teddy Bear, and
looked under the couch.  There he was on his side just as she had seen
him in her dream.  Louise picked him up and set him in a chair; then she
looked at Bella’s clothes to make sure there were no pins pricking her,
and after looking at Emily also she put both of them in a comfortable
place.  Her books were put on a shelf, and she resolved never again to
let her room get so untidy or to let her dolls or Teddy Bear suffer from
neglect.  "Perhaps they do feel things," she said.  "Anyway, I’ll be
sure not to hurt them or let them be in uncomfortable positions, for I
was very miserable lying on the floor thinking I might be stepped upon."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Wise Old Gander]


                         *THE WISE OLD GANDER*


Once there lived a farmer who was not a good caretaker.  He did not have
a house for the hens and chickens and geese and ducks, and Old Fox, who
lived in a hole over the hill, never had any trouble in getting a nice
goose or a fat hen for his supper or breakfast.

"Something must be done at once," said Madam Goose.  "There will be no
one left in the whole yard if this keeps on.  Why, only last night Madam
Gray Hen was carried off and she has left all those little chicks; it is
really too awful to think of."

"But what can we do?" asked Gray Goose.  "The rooster does not know, for
I heard one of his family ask him, and he only said the master should
take better care of us."

"So he should," replied Madam Goose, "but he doesn’t, so we must care
for ourselves unless we wish to be carried off, too.  Let us go to the
gander; he may be able to help us."

"Come with us," they called to the rooster and black hen who were
talking together; "we are going to see the gander and ask him to help us
to be rid of Old Fox over the hill."

The gander stretched out his neck and blinked his eyes as he listened to
their tale of woe.

"You are right, something must be done," he said; "and you are quite
right in coming to me also.  I will think over the matter and give you
my advice later."

"Later!" screamed Madam Goose.  "Later there will be no need for advice;
there will be no one to give it or to advise.  What we need is advice at
once, and something that will rid us of Old Fox under the hill.  He is
eating the whole yard, one by one."

"Well, well," answered the gander, standing on one foot and then on the
other.  "I will think over the matter for a short time and then tell you
my decision.  You know, my dear madam, that great minds must have quiet
to think out important matters.  Leave me, I beg of you all, for a
little while."

As soon as the gander was alone he waddled over to the pig-pen.  "Mr.
Pig," he said, "I am going to ask your advice.  Old Fox over the hill is
carrying off all the fowls and something must be done."

"Ugh, ugh," grunted the pig.  "I can tell you what will frighten him
away.  I will stay awake to-night and grunt at him; he will know better
than to linger where I am."

"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Pig," said the gander, backing away from the
pig-pen.  "I will tell my friends, and I am sure they will feel safe
to-night."

"Conceited fellow," said the gander.  "I guess it will take more than
his grunts to scare that foxy fellow."

Then he went to the donkey.  "He isn’t very wise," thought the gander,
"but sometimes those who have the least wisdom speak wisdom without
knowing it.

"Mr. Donkey, I have come to ask your advice. Old Fox is carrying off our
hens and geese.  Something must be done to stop him, or soon there will
be none left."

"Quite so; quite so.  I see; I see, Mr. Gander," said the donkey.  "You
have come to the right place for advice.  Now go back to your friends
and tell them to have no fear; I will take the matter in hand."

"But what are you going to do?" asked the gander.

"Why, my dear sir, I am going to bray at Old Fox when he comes.  I am
going to bray at him, and you will see he will not stay long when he
hears my commanding voice."

"Oh, how can I ever thank you?" said the gander, walking away.  "I will
tell my friends at once that you will take care of them to-night."

"Foolish old donkey," said the gander to himself. "I guess Old Fox has
heard a donkey bray before this.  I’ll try the cow next.

"Madam Cow, Old Fox is carrying off all the fowls, one by one, and if
something is not done at once to stop him, there will be none of us
left.  What would you advise?"

"Oh, don’t ask me, Mr. Gander," said the cow. "All I can do is to moo,
and Old Fox would no more mind that than the wind blowing.  I wish I
were wise enough to advise you, but I am not.  But if I can help you in
any way let me know."

"Thank you, Madam Cow," said the gander, waddling away.  "You may hear
from me.  We never can tell when we shall need the help of our friends."

The next one the gander visited was the cat.

"Can you help me, Madam Puss?" began the gander.  "We fowls are all in
trouble; Old Fox carries off one or more of our number every night, and
something must be done to stop it at once."

The cat opened her mouth very wide and yawned, and the gander wondered
if he had been wise, after all, in asking her for advice in this matter.

But Puss closed her mouth with a snap and sat up.

"Of course I can help you," she said.  "Did you ever see my claws?"

The gander backed away as Puss held them up to his view.

The gander confessed that he had not and Puss went on: "Well, leave it
to me to protect the barnyard; that dog Rover never seems to think about
anything but eating and sleeping.  I will yowl and spit at Old Fox when
he comes to-night, and I can tell you and your friends he will not come
again."

"Thank you, thank you, Madam Puss," said the gander, running away.

"My, but that was a narrow escape for me!" said the gander.  "She
positively looks awful when she opens her mouth.  I seem to be getting
advice, but not the kind that will save my friends; they all feel sure
they can scare Old Fox, but not one of them will be able to; I don’t
know that all of them together would--"

The gander stopped still and held up his head.  "I have it," he said, "I
have the very plan; I will get them all together and each shall do his
part.  I believe we can scare Old Fox away for good and all time."

The gander went to the dog and he promised to bark.  "Of course, there
is no need of having the others around if I do that," said the dog.
"But bring them along if you like; every little helps."

That night the donkey, the dog, the cat, the cow, and the pig were
gathered in the barnyard; each one protested that the others were not
needed, all but the cow; she was modest, and said she would help.  Then
the rooster came and offered to crow and the geese were to quack.

"Now you all must hide," said the gander, "and don’t move until Old Fox
gets right in the middle of the yard; then jump up and do your worst."

Old Fox waited until it was very late, and then crept over the hill and
up to the farm.  He listened, and, hearing no sound, he crept into the
barnyard. He was just about to reach a fat goose when all the animals
began.  The dog barked, the pig squealed, the donkey brayed, the cow
mooed, the geese quacked, the rooster crowed, and Puss, true to her
word, yowled and sprang at Old Fox, who was so frightened at the
terrible noise he forgot to run until Puss struck at him with her sharp
claws; then he took to his swiftest speed, and away he went over the
hill and far away, and was never again seen near that farm.

He told some of his friends that a most horrible animal lived there and
must have eaten all the hens and geese and was big enough to eat them,
for he saw at least twenty feet and claws and heads of all sizes.



[Illustration: headpiece to Dinah Cat and the Witch]


                       *DINAH CAT AND THE WITCH*


Once upon a time there was a little girl named Betty.  She was an
orphan, and a bad landlord turned her out of her home.  The only friend
she had was a black cat named Dinah.  Betty was crying as she walked
along the road, and Dinah Cat ran beside her, rubbing against her feet.
All at once she ran in front of Betty and stood on her hind legs.  "Do
not cry, mistress," she said. "I’ll take care of you."

Betty was so surprised to hear Dinah Cat speak that she stopped crying
at once.  "You poor Dinah Cat," she said, "what can you do?  We must go
to the city, and if I can find work we shall be able to live; if not,
you must take care of yourself, for you can catch mice and keep from
starving."

"You come with me, mistress," answered Dinah Cat, "and you will not need
to work and you will not starve."  And she put out her paw for Betty to
take and walked alongside her.  When they came to a path leading into
the wood Dinah Cat led Betty along this path until they were in front of
two very large trees which had grown together, but there was a big
opening in the trunk.  "We’ll go in here," said Dinah Cat, and as they
stepped through they were in a hall.  She led Betty up the stairs to a
room where there was a snowy-white bed and pretty furnishings. "Dinner
will be served as soon as you are dressed, mistress," said Dinah Cat.

After she had gone Betty looked around, and in the closets she found
pretty dresses which just fitted her.  She put on one of them, and in a
few minutes she was ready for dinner.  Just then she heard a soft,
scratching noise at the door, and when she opened it Dinah Cat walked
in.

"How do you like your new home, mistress?" she asked.

"Very much," Betty answered.  "But we cannot live in such a nice house.
We have no money, and, besides that, this house must belong to some one.
And this dress I have on must belong to some little girl.  I should not
wear it."

"The dress did belong to a little girl," said Dinah Cat, "but she cannot
wear it now, and she wants you to have it.  And do not fret about the
house.  It belongs to me.  I cannot tell you any more just now, but you
need not worry any more about anything, for you are to live here, if you
wish, after you have dinner, for then you will meet a boy, and you may
not like him."

Dinah Cat led Betty into a room where the table was set for three
persons, and when they were seated a boy about Betty’s age came in and
sat with them. He wore his hat, and a thick veil hung from it.

"I am sorry I cannot remove my hat," he said, in a very sweet voice,
"and I will go away if you’d rather I would."

"Oh no," said Betty, feeling very much like an intruder.  "I am very
grateful to you for letting me stay, and I will help to do the work."

"You do not need to work," said the boy.  "If you will stay we will be
very glad."

Betty did not once get a glimpse of his face, he lifted the veil so
carefully.  And there sat Dinah Cat, using her knife and fork like any
lady.  Betty smiled to herself when she thought of her eating from a
saucer.

Suddenly Dinah Cat slid out of her chair and crawled under it, and the
little boy trembled so that his chair shook.  Betty looked around to
find the cause of their strange behavior, and saw standing in the
doorway an old woman with a staff in her hand. She hobbled over to where
Dinah Cat sat and raised the staff.  Betty thought she was going to
strike her.

"Don’t you hurt Dinah Cat!" she cried, running toward the old witch, who
was so startled that she dropped the staff, and Betty picked it up.

"Don’t let her have it again," said the boy; "that is the cause of all
our trouble."

Betty threw the staff in a closet and locked the door. All this time the
witch was stepping backward toward the door by which she entered, and
she grew smaller with each step.  By the time she was out of the house
she looked like a black speck, and a breeze blowing just then carried
her out of sight.  "But how shall we ever be ourselves again?" said the
boy.  "She has gone, and here we are, in this state."

"Perhaps the stick will do it," said Dinah Cat.

Betty wondered what they meant, and the boy told her that Dinah Cat was
his sister before the witch changed her into a cat, and made his face so
hideous that he had to wear a veil, and they had lived very happily
together.  "But one day the old witch came and wanted to live with us,
and we let her for a while, but she was so cross and made us so unhappy
we told her she must go away.  Then she brought all this change upon us,
and every once in a while she returns and frightens us, for we do not
know what she will change us into next."

"Let me get the stick," said Betty.  "Perhaps we can change Dinah Cat to
your sister again."

Betty opened the door of the closet, and instead of the stick there was
a bright streak of light, and walking on it was a little Fairy who held
a wand in her hand.

"You will soon be happy again," she told them. "I have destroyed the
stick and the old witch will never return."

Then she walked over to Dinah Cat and touched her with her wand and
there stood a little girl about Betty’s age in place of the black cat.

"Now close your eyes," said the Fairy, "for I want the boy to remove his
veil, and his face is not pleasant to look upon."

Betty did as the Fairy told her, but I am sorry to tell you that she
peeked a very little.  Betty closed her eyes tight after the first
glimpse and waited for the Fairy to tell her to open them again, and
when she did there stood the boy with a very smiling face. His sister
ran to him and put her arms around him. "Now we shall be happy," she
said, "and Betty will live with us.  How can we thank you?" she asked
the Fairy.

"Oh, I shall be repaid by seeing you all happy," the Fairy replied.
"And now I must go."

"Will we see you again?" asked Betty.

"No," answered the Fairy.  "I only appear when people are in trouble,
and you will never need me again."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Star and the Lily]


                        *THE STAR AND THE LILY*


Once there bloomed in a garden a beautiful white lily, on a long stalk
so tall that she towered over all the flowers that bloomed near her.

Of course, the sunflowers at the back of the garden were much taller and
the hollyhocks that grew in front of the sunflowers were taller, too,
and also the sweet peas.  But they were not near the beautiful lily.
Beside her bloomed pansies and poppies, and many other beautiful
flowers, but they were not so tall as the lily.

A rose-bush growing near the lily noticed that she drooped and did not
look as happy as usual one morning, and she asked what had happened.

"Oh, I am thinking of some one I love," answered the lily, with a sigh.

"That should not bring a sigh or make you look sad, my fair friend,"
said the rose.  "Love should make you happier than anything else in the
world."

"Yes, I suppose it should," answered the lily, "but my love is so far
away I am not sure that I am loved in return."

"Oh, immodest lily!" said the rose.  "I thought you the most modest of
all of us, and here you are in love with some one you do not know.  Tell
me about it, do?" said the rose, alert with interest.

"I will tell you, dear rose," said the lily, "and perhaps you can tell
me how to win the love of my beloved, or how I can overcome my great
love for him."

"I will do anything I can for you, my dear," said the rose, "but do tell
me quick all about your love-story."

"One night," began the lily, "when everything was quiet in the garden
and all the other flowers were fast asleep, I happened to raise my head
and open my petals.  The moonlight was streaming over the garden, and I
looked around at all the sleeping flowers and wondered how I happened to
awake at that hour, when, looking up to see the moon in all her
splendor, I beheld a beautiful star looking down at me.

"At first I thought it was looking at the whole garden, but then I knew
all the others were asleep and I must be the one it was smiling at, for
it twinkled and brightened as I gazed at it.

"I lowered my head and slyly looked again, and still the star was
looking, and every time it saw me raise my head it would twinkle a smile
at me.  The next night I wanted to make sure it was I that the star
really smiled at, and when it was bedtime I only bowed my head and did
not sleep.

"Then when the garden was still and I was sure you all slept I again
raised my head and saw my star smiling straight down at me.

"This time I was sure I was the only one that the star could be smiling
at, and I raised my head and opened my petals and let all the perfume of
my heart go up to him, and I did not feel that I was bold, for we were
all alone and he smiled down upon me, his love for two nights.

"But now I am sorrowful, for it is day and I cannot see my beloved.  He
seems only to show his love for me at night.  What shall I do, dear
rose?  I am not strong enough to stay awake all day and all night too.
Soon I will die if I do, and yet I cannot live if I do not see my star
each night.  That is why I sigh and look so sad, for I might sleep all
night some time and my star will think I do not love him."

The rose shook her head.  "I cannot advise you, my friend," she said;
"you are in love with some one far above you, and are not even sure you
are loved in return.  Be wise and sleep through the night as the rest of
us do, and give up this uncertain lover."

But the lily only drooped her head and sighed, and that night looked for
her lover again, but the sky was dark and no bright smile greeted the
poor lily.  All night she gazed into the dark sky, and when the first
light of day came she was still looking for her lover.

The rose looked at her when the sun came upon them that morning, but the
lily did not raise her head; she was too full of sorrow to lift her face
to the sun, and by and by the rose saw that she was drooping lower and
lower, so she spoke to her.

"Lily," she said, leaning closer to her, "raise your head and let the
sun cheer you.  You will die if you do not open your petals and get the
light and air."

But the poor lily was past caring for sun or air; her petals were limp
and her stalk withered.

The rose leaned closer to her as she faintly answered, and this is what
she heard:

"Good-by, my friend; I shall bloom no more.  My bright star hid his face
from me last night and I have no desire to live longer.  Perhaps I may
see him after I am gone from here, and if that is true I shall be happy,
but I cannot live here and not see his face.’"

The wind blew through the garden just then and took the lily from her
stem, scattering her petals far out of the garden.

"Poor lily!" murmured the rose, "she went the way we all will go, but
her heart was broken and she died before her time.  If she had only
looked for love here in the garden instead of looking so far above her
she might be blooming now, poor lily."



[Illustration: headpiece to Lazy Gray]


                              *LAZY GRAY*


All the other squirrels called him Lazy Gray, which was really not a
very nice name for a squirrel to have, but it fitted this squirrel, and
I am going to tell you how he came to be called by such an unpleasant
name.

When Lazy Gray was born there were three little squirrels in his family,
but he was the youngest and his mother thought he was the prettiest, and
all the rest of the family used to wait on him a great deal, and his
mother did not ask him to do errands or to climb trees or any other of
the hard tasks that most squirrels have to do.  And Lazy Gray took
advantage of the kindness of his mother and his brothers and sister, and
used to ask them to wait on him.  When he was thirsty and wanted a drink
of water he would call to his mother and say, "I am thirsty"; and she
would take a nutshell and go down to the brook and fill it with nice
cool water and bring it to him for him to drink.  And sometimes he
wouldn’t even say "Thank you" when he had finished.

And he used to make his brothers go on long journeys through the woods
to get a particular kind of nut of which he was very fond; and if they
happened to bring him one that was not good he would find fault with
them and tell them that they did not know good nuts from bad ones.

All through the summer he fooled away his time sleeping and lying in the
sun and never a single nut did he gather for himself.  But when fall
came and his two brothers were taken ill, his mother said that he would
have to help her gather nuts because she could not gather enough to last
the whole family through all the long winter.  Lazy thought it was very
hard that he should be called upon to work for his brothers even if they
were sick, and he complained very bitterly about how hard it was for him
to climb trees all day and store nuts.  Whenever he could he stole away
and lay down behind a rock and kept hidden until his mother came and
found him.  And then she would tell how, when it got cold and there was
snow all over the ground and he was hungry, he would wish that he had
been a good squirrel and had gathered the nuts while he could.

But he did not believe her and said, "Oh, I have gathered all the nuts I
shall want and am not going to work any more," and then he would go to
sleep again.

Weeks passed by, and it grew colder and colder and the snow came, and
all the squirrels began to draw on their stores of nuts.  Lazy found
that he got pretty hungry sometimes and that the habit of eating and
drinking all he wanted in the summer made him want to eat and drink all
he wanted in the winter.  And as he had never taught himself
self-denial, he ate all he wanted, and very early in the winter he began
to see that the nuts he had gathered would not last him half-way through
the winter, and almost before he knew it his whole store was exhausted
and he had nothing to eat.

Then he asked his mother to let him have some of the nuts that she had
gathered, and being a kind mother, she let him have just as many as she
could, but she still had to keep some for his sick brothers. When she
would not give him all he thought he ought to have he decided that he
would go over to a neighboring tree and ask a squirrel over there for
some of his nuts, and for weeks he went from one tree to another begging
nuts, until every squirrel in the woods hated to see him coming, for
they knew he was going to beg food that he should have gathered for
himself.

At last he became so much of a nuisance that all the squirrels in the
wood held a meeting and decided that each one of them would give two
nuts to "Lazy," as they now all called him, and that he would have to
live for the rest of the winter on the store they contributed or else
starve.

When Lazy saw what a small store of nuts he would have to live upon
until spring he was frightened, for he had eaten almost as many nuts as
there were there in a week.

But he knew he had to make them last, so he ate very sparingly, and his
sides began to be less plump and his cheeks less full, and by springtime
he was a pretty sorry-looking squirrel, with his ribs showing plainly
through his sides and his bushy tail looking bigger than the whole of
the rest of him.

But it taught him a good lesson, and early in the next summer, just as
soon as there were any nuts to be had, he began to store them away, and
when winter came again he had a big hole in the tree filled full and his
mother was much pleased.

"You see," she told him, "how wicked it is not to provide for the future
and store up things that are necessary against the time when you will
need them."

And Lazy agreed with her and told her that never again so long as he
lived would he merit the name of "Lazy."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Old Gray Hen]


                           *THE OLD GRAY HEN*


"Oh, dear!" said the Old Gray Hen, "what a life this is!  Up in the
morning at the break of day in answer to the summons of that crowing
rooster; scratch all the forenoon for worms; sit on a nest and leave a
beautiful egg there, and in half an hour along comes somebody and takes
the egg and I never see it again.  Then every spring I am put on a lot
of eggs that I never saw before and am supposed to sit there until a
brood of chickens are hatched out, and then for weeks I have to scratch
for them as well as for myself.  I don’t see anything in this sort of
life, and I propose to change it until it is more to my liking and more
as the life of such a fine hen as I am ought to be."

Old Daddy Gander happened along just as the Gray Hen finished talking to
herself.  "What’s the trouble this morning?" he asked.  "Why all this
sputtering and spluttering?  One would think that the whole barnyard had
turned upside down and the corn had all fallen off into the sky."

"There’s matter enough," said Gray Hen.  "What have we fowls to live
for?  I scratch and you waddle and you waddle and I scratch, and what
does it all amount to?  Something has got to be done, and, if no one
else will do it, why, I shall.  Things are going to be different with
me."

"I guess I’ll keep on as I am," said old Daddy Gander as he waddled
away.  "I might make them worse than they are, and they are not so bad,
anyway."

"Good morning, Gray Hen," said Madam Duck. "What a fine day we are going
to have!  The water will be nice and warm for my ducklings, and I can
give them a good swim in the pond."

"It is neither a good morning nor is it going to be a fine day, and as
for swimming in the pond, if I had to mother a lot of children with as
homely feet as your brood has I would want to keep them in the water all
the time so that no one would see them."

"What a mean disposition Gray Hen has!" said Madam Duck to the turkey
gobbler as she went on her way to the pond.  "I tried to be agreeable to
her and she insulted me and spoke so unkindly of my children that I felt
quite like crying."

"I almost wish that she had been a little more unkind," said the
gobbler, "for I have never seen a duck crying and I imagine it might be
an almost sight.  Perhaps Gray Hen needs some of my good advice, and I
will walk over shortly and see her."

But the old gobbler was saved his trouble, for in a few minutes he saw
Gray Hen coming down the path toward him.  As she came up to him he
said: "What a miserable feeling morning this, Mrs. Hen; my feathers will
none of them lie straight, and every worm that I have tasted for
breakfast has been bitter."

"You are quite right," said Gray Hen.  "It is just like all the mornings
recently, uncomfortable and disagreeable, and there does not seem to be
any promise of anything better."

"You are quite right," said the gobbler.  "What the gander and the duck
see in the present to be so satisfied with I don’t understand, and as to
the future, I don’t know why we should expect any more of that than the
past."

"I have always felt," said Gray Hen, "that you, Mr. Gobbler, never got
half your deserts in this barnyard.  Everybody seems to think that the
rooster, because he crows every morning at sunup, is the wisest bird in
the yard, but as for me, I have always held you in greater esteem and
have often spoken of the nobility of your looks and the regal way in
which you walk about the place.  If I had any voice in the matter I
should suggest that you be recognized as superior to the rooster.  But,
you see, the hens have nothing to say, although some day I feel sure
that it will be different."

"You are very kind," said the gobbler, "and I feel as you do, while I
have no wish to be ruler of the yard, that the hens should have more to
say.  You should at least have independence and do as you like."

"Oh, I have determined on that already," said Gray Hen, and she told him
how she had decided to lay no more eggs and to scratch as little as she
had to.

"Well," said the gobbler, "I must be off and see that none of those
turkey hens get so far into the wood that they cannot find their way
back again. I certainly gave the kind of advice she wanted," he said,
when he had got out of her hearing, "and that was easier than getting
into an argument.  And, besides that, discontented people and animals
are always so much more comfortable if they think others are just as
unhappy as they are."

Old Gray Hen, however, was as good as her word. She stopped laying eggs
and the amount of gravel that she scratched was scarcely worth
mentioning. She stole worms from the younger chickens, who were too
polite to punish a hen so old as she was, and, altogether, she became a
general nuisance to all the rest of the barnyard flock.

They could not protect themselves, but Farmer Johnson, walking through
the yard one day, noticed that the Old Gray Hen’s toes had grown to a
most unusual length.  "I guess she doesn’t do much scratching," he said
as he passed along, "and I suspect she doesn’t lay many eggs.  I must
ask mother about it when I get back to the house."

"No," said Mother Johnson, when he asked her, "I haven’t found an egg in
Gray Hen’s nest for a month or more."

"She won’t pay to winter, then," said Farmer Johnson.  "We had better
eat her."  And the following Sunday, when Farmer Johnson sat down for
dinner, they brought a big platter of steaming fricassee to the table
and that was the end of Old Gray Hen.

A day or two after, when the gobbler happened to meet Madam Duck, she
said: "I hear that Gray Hen has left us."

"Yes," said the gobbler, "and I hope she is happier than she was here,
but her contentment was greatest when others were distressed."



[Illustration: headpiece to The Worsted Doll]


                           *THE WORSTED DOLL*


Good Mother Munster and her husband Jacob had five daughters.  Of course
they loved them dearly, but they often wished for a son.

"Then he could help me in the shop," said Jacob, who was a maker of
dolls.  "Not that I would exchange one of our girls for a boy," he
added, "but I wish we had a son as well as the five girls."

Whether the stork heard this talk between Jacob and his wife and took
offense because they questioned his judgment, or whether he thought
Jacob and his wife had their number of children, I do not know; but he
never called again at their door and their daughters grew up to
womanhood without a brother.

One day Jacob hurried in from his shop, which was back of his house.  He
was very much excited, and talked so fast that good Mother Munster could
not understand half he said.

"They want worsted dolls," he explained at last, "two dozen worsted
dolls to be sent across the water in time for Christmas."

Jacob raised his hands with a gesture of despair, for at his shop they
did not make worsted dolls, and he could not understand why any one
should want them.

"There is plenty of time to make them," Mother Munster said.  "The girls
and I can knit them, and we will make half of them girls and half of
them boy dolls."  And so the knitted dolls were begun by good Mother
Munster and her daughters.

One day when Mother Munster was knitting on the last doll, which was a
boy, she began to think how much she would miss them when they were
finished and sent across the sea.

"I will make you extra large," she said as she added a few stitches to
the length and breadth of the doll, "and if I could I would knit you a
tongue so you could talk and legs that you could run on, and have you
like a live boy."

Mother Munster knitted as she thought, and though she did not know it,
she knitted all her wishes into the boy doll’s body, so that when he was
finished he could do all the things she had wished.

But he was a wise little fellow, and did not betray himself for fear he
would not be shipped across the water with the other dolls, and he
wanted to see the world.

It was a long journey to the other side of the ocean, and the boy doll
thought it never would end.  But by and by he was taken from the big
packing-case and with other dolls placed in a window of a big shop.

"I wish some one would speak to me," thought the boy doll, but not a
word did the other dolls utter, and as he did not wish to appear forward
he kept silent also.

One day a lady came into the store and carried Boy Doll away with her,
and then one night he was put on a tree trimmed with glittering ropes of
tinsel.

A little girl came into the room after a while, and when she saw Boy
Doll she exclaimed, "Oh, I hope the boy doll is for me!"

"So do I," thought Boy Doll, "for I am sure you will talk to me."

And sure enough he was given to the little girl. "I am so glad you were
for me," she told him, "for I do need a father for my doll family."

"Dear me," thought Boy Doll, "what a responsibility to be forced upon me
so suddenly!"  And not a word could he speak in reply to the little
girl, because he was so surprised.

The little girl took him into a large room, which was the home of her
doll family.

"This is your husband, Rosamond," she said to a large French doll, "and
his name is Theodore.  And this is your father," she told a group of
small dolls; "he has come to live with you.

"I hope you will be a good father to them," she said to Theodore.  But
Boy Doll was so overcome that his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth
and he was silent.

Theodore, as we may call him now, was placed in a large arm-chair, and
the little girl left him with his family.

His grand-looking wife held her head very high and cast a look of
disdain at poor Theodore, for she was not pleased to have a worsted doll
for a husband, and the children, following the example of their mother,
looked at their new father and giggled.

"Oh, why did I leave good Mother Munster?" thought Theodore.  "She
wanted a son and she would have loved me."

He sat very still for a while.  He was thinking what he should do; he
knew that as the father of a family he should be respected, and here
were his children laughing at him.

If it were not for the haughty French wife he might exert his authority,
but Theodore was a little afraid of her.

"I’ll begin with the children," he said at last, "and that may impress
Rosamond."

So while the children were giggling and whispering Theodore suddenly
jumped up from his chair.

Of course he was very stiff in his movements, as he did not have any
joints, and the children laughed out and said, "Our father hasn’t any
joints in his legs."

The stern look on Theodore’s face soon quieted them, however, and by the
time he reached them they were quite afraid.  Theodore cleared his
throat and put his hands behind him.

"It is very evident," he said, "that you need a father, for your manners
are shockingly bad.  What is your name?" he asked, taking one of them by
the shoulder.

"Etta," she answered.

"And yours?" he said, pointing to another.

"May," was the reply.

"And yours, and yours, and yours, and yours, and yours, and yours?" he
asked, receiving in turn the names of Sally, Freda, Maude, Cora, Dora,
and Ida.

"I shall divide you into two groups of four each," he said, after
hearing the names.  "One will be the Etta-May-Sally-Freda group, and the
other will be the Maude-Cora-Dora-Ida group.  That will simplify matters
for me, and I can talk to four at one time. Ettamaysallyfreda," he
called.

"Yes, father," answered all four at once.

"If I ever hear you giggle again as you did when I appeared I shall
punish you severely."

"Yes, sir," answered the trembling dolls.

"Maudecoradoraida," said Theodore, in a stern voice.

"Yes, father," answered the second group.

"If you behave again in the manner you did when I first came to this
house you will be punished in a way you will remember."

"Yes, sir," answered the four dolls.

Theodore turned away and with all the dignity he could muster walked
toward his wife.

Rosamond’s head was not held so high now, for her husband’s manner with
the children had shown her that he intended to be master in his home.

"When do we dine?" he asked.

"We have no regular hour," she answered.

"We will dine at seven," said Theodore; "breakfast at eight; the hour
for lunch you may please yourself about, as I shall not be here.  The
children will not dine with us," he added.  "And now I should like to
see my room."

Rosamond, who was as completely subdued as the children, very meekly did
as she was told, and Theodore found himself master without any further
trouble.

But he could not forget good Mother Munster, and while he knew he should
be content in the bosom of his family, he found his thoughts often with
Mother Munster, across the water.

It was not an easy matter being the father of a family.  If he felt like
jumping or lying on the floor, there were the children, and he must not
lose his dignity for a moment.  "I would rather be a son," he said,
"than be the father of a family.  If I could get back to Germany and
good Mother Munster I should be quite happy."

Of course this was not the proper feeling for a husband and father to
have, but you must remember that Theodore had all this thrust upon him
before he had any of the joys of boyhood.

One day he heard the family where he lived talking about going abroad,
and saw the big trunks being packed.

"Oh dear," thought Theodore, "I wonder if they will take me with them.
Perhaps they will go to Germany where the good Mother Munster lives."

And then Theodore thought a very wicked thought. "I will get into one of
the trunks and hide," he said, "and if I can find the German village
where Mother Munster lives I will not come back to be the father of a
family, but I will stay with good Mother Munster and be her little boy."

Of course that was deserting his family, but Theodore did not know
anything about how wrong that was, and so one day when he was left alone
in the room with the trunks he climbed over the side of one of them and
hid himself between the folds of a dress, without saying good-by to his
wife or children.

Theodore did not feel safe until the men came for the trunks, and then
his heart leaped for joy.  After a long time the trunks were opened in a
hotel, and Theodore wondered what they would say when they found him.

"Here is Theodore," said the mother to her little girl, when she found
him inside her dresses.  "I wonder how he got in my trunk."

The little girl had not brought any of her dolls and she was so pleased
to see Theodore that she hugged him.

Theodore felt guilty when he thought of what he intended to do, but his
love for Mother Munster was deeper than that for his family.

After many weeks of visiting different places, Theodore had almost given
up hope of seeing Mother Munster again, when one day he heard them say,
"We will go to Berlin to-morrow."

"Berlin, Berlin," repeated Theodore.  "Where have I heard that name
before?"  Then all at once it came to him that it was in Germany and
that not far from there was the village where Mother Munster lived.

He could hardly keep from jumping for joy.

One morning after they had been in Berlin for a week the father of the
little girl said, "We are to visit a little village to-day where they
make dolls."

"I will take Theodore," said the little girl, "for I want to get a girl
doll just like him."

They rode quite a distance on the train, and then in a carriage, and
stopped at a house that made Theodore’s heart thump so loudly that he
feared they would hear it, for the house was the home of good Mother
Munster, and there standing in the doorway was the dear old lady
herself.

They went into the kitchen and the little girl put Theodore on a chest
which stood in the room.

In the excitement of seeing the doll-shop she forgot to take him with
her, and as soon as Theodore found himself alone he slipped off the
chest and hid behind it.

When the little girl came back from the shop she had a large doll in her
arms and she quite forgot Theodore.

A few days after, when Mother Munster was cleaning her kitchen, she
moved the chest, and there was Theodore with his arms stretched up
toward her.

Mother Munster picked him up.  "Why, it is my boy!" she said.  "How ever
did you get here?" she asked.  Then she thought of the little girl.  "I
hope she does not send for you," she said, and she held Theodore tightly
in her arms.

"So do I," said Theodore, and although he did not speak out loud Mother
Munster seemed to understand.

"You’d rather live here, hadn’t you?" she asked. "I will put you on this
seat in the corner and you shall be my little boy.  All the girls have
gone to homes of their own, and Jacob and I are very lonely.

"Look, Jacob," she said as he came in the door, "here is the worsted
doll I made to send across the water.  He has come back to live with us,
and so at last we have a son."

Jacob smiled.  He didn’t think much of worsted dolls, but he took
Theodore by one hand.  "You have traveled a long distance, son," he
said, "since you left here, and can tell Mother Munster and me all about
what you have seen as we three sit by the fire in the long winter
evenings."  And so Theodore found a mother and father and lived a happy
and peaceful life undisturbed by the cares of a family.

But sometimes he dreams and awakens himself by calling,
"Ettamaysallyfreda," or "Maudecoradoraida."  And when he makes sure it
is only a dream he turns over and goes to sleep again with a smile of
contentment on his face which plainly says, "Theodore, you are a lucky
man."



                                THE END



           *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *



                                Books by
                         ABBIE PHILLIPS WALKER

Sandman’s Christmas Stories
The Sandman’s Hour
Sandman’s Twilight Stories
Sandman Tales
Told by the Sandman
Sandman’s Rainy Day Stories
Sandman’s Stories of Drusilla Doll
Sandman’s Good-Night Stories
Sandman’s Might-Be-So Stories
Sandman’s Fairy Stories

                           Harper & Brothers
                              _Publishers_





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