The Nursery, May 1873, Vol. XIII.

MABEL'S COW

THE cow nearest to you in the picture is Mabel's cow; and Mabel Brittan is the taller of the two girls on the bridge. I will tell you why the cow is called Mabel's cow.

Her family live in a wild but beautiful part of New Hampshire, where it is very cold in winter, and pretty warm in summer. There are only two small houses within a mile of her father's. He keeps cows, and makes nice butter from the cream.

Not long ago he bought a cow at a great bargain, as he thought; for she was a fine-looking young cow, and the price he paid for her was only twenty-five dollars.

But, before he had got through the first milking of her, he began to think she was dear at any price. She would kick over the pail, make vicious plunges, and try to hook him. Indeed, he grew afraid of her, she was so violent.

He took down a heavy whip, and was about to strike her in great anger, when his little daughter Mabel caught his arm, and said, "She will never be good for any thing if you strike her. Let me try to manage her."

And, before Mr. Brittan could prevent her, Mabel had her arm round the cow's neck, and was calling her all the sweet pet names she could think of.

"All that is very well," said her father; "but just you try to milk her: that's all. No, you sha'n't venture. It would be as much as your life is worth."

"I am very sure she will let me milk her," said Mabel. "Do not forbid my trying. She looks at me out of her big eyes as if she thought me her friend."

So Mabel took the tin pail, and sat down on the little low milking-stool; and soon, to her father's astonishment, she finished milking, the cow having stood all the while as quiet as a lamb.

It was found that the cow had been badly treated by the man who had owned her, and who had been in the habit of milking her. Being a high-spirited beast, she then gave him so much trouble, that he was soon glad to be rid of her.

She would now let no one touch her but Mabel: so Mr. Brittan finally said that the cow should be Mabel's cow, and that all the butter which the cow yielded should be hers. But Mabel is a generous girl; and so she shares the money she earns. Her mother, her sister Emily, and her brothers Oliver and Frank, all get a part of it.

Mabel has given the cow a name; and the cow will come to her when she calls her by name. The name is a very pretty one for a cow, I think. It is Dido.

HARRY AND THE BIG "POP-CORNER."

Little Harold was delighted, one winter morning, to hear that he could go to his grandpapa's with his mother, for a few days. He had often been there in summer, when the grass was green, and flowers were blooming around the old homestead; but this was his first winter visit.

A pleasant ride of forty miles by the railway, then a short ride in an old-fashioned stage-sleigh, and the sober old horses, with their jingling bells, stopped before grandpa's pleasant home.

Harry ran up to the door, shouting, "We've come, grandpa! We've come!" The door opened; the little fellow rushed into his grandpa's arms; and golden curls and thin gray locks were mingled for an instant. Then the young arms were thrown around dear Aunt Susie; and such a welcome was given as little boys love to have.

Harry then trotted off to the kitchen to find his friend Patty, the cook. In a few minutes he came running back, exclaiming, "O mamma! do come and see what a big pop-corner Patty has in the kitchen."

"Corn-popper, I suppose you mean," said his mamma, laughing, as she and Aunt Susie followed him to the kitchen. There, hanging behind the stove, was a large brass pan, as bright as gold: it had a cover full of holes, and a long handle. This was what Harry took for a corn-popper.

"Oh! that is a warming-pan," said his mother. "A what kind of a pan?" said Harry with great surprise. "What do you mean, mamma?"

"Well, Harry, if you can be quiet a minute, I will tell you. When your Aunt Susie and I were little girls, and your uncles little boys, grandpapa's house was not warmed all over, as it is now. Furnaces were not used in those days; and the bed-rooms up stairs were very cold.

"So, on the coldest nights of winter, grandma would have this pan filled with hot coals, and the beds all nicely warmed. Sometimes the boys would have great frolics; for dear grandmamma would have their bed so very warm, that, as soon as they had jumped in, out they would come, saying they were burned.

"But they would spring back again, and cuddle down, and laugh, and tell stories, and sing, until grandpapa would have to come to the foot of the stairs, and call out, 'Boys, boys, I must have less noise!'"

"Well," said Harry after hearing this story, "I should like to try it, and see how my little uncles felt so long ago. Will you warm my bed to-night, Patty?"—"Oh, yes! indeed I will. Master Harry," said Patty.

Harry wanted to go to bed earlier than usual that night; and, before seven o'clock, he ran to the kitchen to ask Patty to put the coals in the pan. Patty took a shovel, and first put in some hot ashes. "What is that for?" said Harry.

"So the sheets will not be burned," said Patty. Then she put in some glowing coals, and told Harry that the warming-pan was ready.

Harry called his mamma; and they went up to the square front-room. Patty gave the cold sheets a good warming while mamma was unbuttoning the little shoes and clothes; and, when Harry had got on his night-gown, he said, "Now for a good jump,—one, two, three, four, and away!"

Then he sprang into the warm nest; and such a shout as the little fellow gave made even grandpa start from his rocking-chair. "Oh, goody! oh, how jolly! oh, how splendid!" said Harry. "I thought grandpapa's house was splendid in the summer; but it is a great deal splendider in the winter.

"But, mamma," continued he, "won't I have a nice story to tell Charlie and Susie when I get home, about this big pop-corner?"

WHAT DEMPSEY IS PROUD OF

"What are you proudest of?" said Mattie to Bertie. "I'm proudest of my new red-top boots," said Bertie. "I'm proudest of my new black hat," said Clay. Mattie was proudest of her muff and boa. Little Bell was proudest of her wax doll.

But Dempsey had the queerest pride of all. He had no boots or mittens; and his clothes were coarse and worn. What had he to be proud of? This is what he said, "I'm proudest of my papa's wooden leg." The other little people were too polite to laugh at him; but they looked at him with wonder.

"Let me tell you," said he, "why I'm proud of my papa's wooden leg. One time when there was a war, and men were wanted to help fight the battles, my papa took his gun, and went into the army. And when there was a great battle, and men were shot down all around him, my papa stood beside the man that held the flag. And, when the man was killed, my papa would not let the flag fall, but took it in his own hands. Then the soldiers on the other side fired at the flag with a big cannon; and the ball took off my papa's leg. He was sick a long time; but he got a letter from his commander that said he was a brave man, and had done his duty nobly. This is why I am proud of my papa's wooden leg."

Mattie and Bertie and Clay and Bell all thought that this was a pretty story; and Clay said, "Dempsey is right. He has something more to be proud of than any of us."

JENNY AND TIMOTHY WREN

WHAT MAMIE DID

Mamie is a little girl five years old, with bright black eyes, and rosy red cheeks.

She is very fond of "The Nursery," as are a great many other Mamies.

Now, which Mamie is this story about? They are all wondering, but cannot tell certainly, till they have heard it read.

Well, one cold winter's day, this little Mamie came to her mother with a very urgent request. What do you suppose it was? To go out coasting? No.

To go to visit her little friend Nellie? No.

To take a sleigh-ride with her papa? Wrong again.

Ah! you can never guess, and I will tell you.

It was this: "O mamma! do put on my things, and let me go out and get exscribers for 'The Nursery.'"

Mamma shook her head; though she could not help laughing at the little girl's mistake, for she meant subscribers. It is a hard word; but this little Mamie knew the meaning well.

"O mamma! please do; for you know I love it. And Jennie and Katie and Bessie will love it too, if they only know about it; and, besides, I can get a present, if I send some new names to 'The Nursery' man."

Little Mamie was so urgent in her request, that her mother asked papa what he thought about it.

Papa said, "Oh, let her try if she wants to: it will do no harm." How the black eyes danced! and the little feet could hardly keep still, while mamma dressed her up very warmly, till she was just about as large one way as the other.

"Now, mamma, for my muff; and, oh! I must have a 'Nursery' to show." So, with a "Nursery" sticking out of one end of the little muff, this Mamie started on her errand. All the way along to Bessie's house, she kept saying, subscribe, subscribe, so that she might not make another mistake in the word.

She was gone but an hour, and returned with the names of six children, who were to be made glad each month by the visits of Mamie's friend.

Mamie was full of glee, and could hardly eat any supper, so anxious was she for her papa to send the names to Boston.

Well, they were all sent; and the six little friends have been made glad by receiving each a "Nursery" of her own; and next month they will be glad again, and so on for a whole year.

Did Mamie get a present? Oh, yes! She got a present from "The Nursery" man, which she values very highly.

Now, can you tell which little Mamie this is?

SNIP'S STORY

My name is Snip. You can read it on my collar: though why my master put it there I can't tell; for everybody knows me, and almost everybody is my friend. People stop in the street to pat me; the little children love to have me play with them, because I never snarl and bite; and the butcher round the corner saves me a bone every day. I think butchers are very nice men.

Every morning I go down street to get the newspaper for my master. The bookseller always has it rolled up, waiting for me, and puts it in my mouth; and back I trot as fast as my legs will go. To-day I had a hard time of it; for, just as I got nicely started for home, some bad boys who were playing in the road saw me, and thought it would be fine fun to catch me, and take my paper away.

They ran after me, hooting and yelling; and I was so frightened, that I trembled all over. But I could run faster than they; and they soon gave up the chase. That was not the end, though; for one of them threw a stone after me, which hit me on one of my paws, and so I came home limping. But do you suppose I let the newspaper drop? Not a bit of it.

I have been barking at this door a long time; and yet nobody comes to open it. I wonder where my master is, that he doesn't hear me. Perhaps he is asleep. I am very hungry for my dinner; and I should like to get into the house, and lie down in my corner by the kitchen-fire.

I can push open the garden-gate with my nose; but this door won't move a bit when I put my paws on it. I wonder why dogs can't open doors as well as gates. I am going to bark again. Bow-wow-wow! There! Didn't you hear a footstep? Yes: there comes some one to let me in.

BABY IN HER HIGH CHAIR

THE BRINDLED COW

The cow is in the pasture, feeding. The pasture has been wet with the rain, and the grass is fresh and sweet. The rain makes the grass grow.

The sun is hot, and the cow has lain down under a shady tree. She is chewing her cud. It is nice and cool in the shade.

But the flies bite her, and plague her. She tries to scare them off; but they come again. Then she gets up, and rubs her nose against the tree.

Now she is standing in the water. The water feels cool to her feet; but the flies still plague her. She splashes the water to drive the flies away.

By and by the milk-maid comes out, and calls, "Co-boss, co-boss!" The cow hears her, and walks slowly along to the barn.

The cow stands quite still while the maid is milking her. But is not the maid seated on the wrong side of the cow? My cow would kick the pail over if I should milk her in that way.

NAMING THE KITTEN

"What shall be the kitten's name?" asked Rachel of her younger sister, who stood holding up her apron, and begging to take the little pet.

"It is my kitten," pleaded Alice; "and I ought to have it."

"The old cat evidently thinks it is her kitten. Hark! Hear her mew! 'Mine, mine, mine,' she seems to say."

"Oh!" said Alice, "I can soon quiet the old cat with a saucer of milk. Come, give me the kitten; that's a good Rachel!"

"Well, I will give it to you on one condition."

"Name it: perhaps I can grant it."

"The condition is, that you give the kitten a name,—a name that I shall approve of."

"Oh! that I can do right off. We will call her Arabella."

"Nonsense! that is too long and grand a name for a kitten. It will do very well for a proud lady-doll from Paris, but not for this little scratcher."

"How would you like the name of Betsy?"

"Not at all. I think it a homely sort of name."

"Well, will any of these do?—Pet, Muff, Tabby, Tit, Tip-top, Scamper, Nap, Mop, Pop, Grab?"

"I think you must have got those from some story-book."

"You guessed right that time," said Alice. "Name the kitten yourself, if none of my names will satisfy you. Put her in my lap, and I will get some cream, and let her lap it."

"Lappit, did you say? That's a new name, and a good one!" cried Rachel. "You have hit upon a name at last. We will call the kitten Lappit. Now hold up your apron, and I will put Lappit in your lap."

Alice laughed at her sister's play upon the word; and, taking the kitten in her apron, she ran off into the garden, followed by the old cat.

LITTLE GILBERT

WHAT BIRDIE SAW IN TOWN

"Birdie," you must know, is a little girl three and a half years old. Her real name is Maud; but "Birdie" is her pet name.

One day she went to the city in the horse-cars with her mamma. They waited on the corner of the street till a car came in sight; then Birdie held up her little fat finger, and the conductor saw it, and stopped the car.

After they were seated, the conductor called out, "Fares, ladies!" And Maud said to him, "Here is mamma's ticket; and won't you please leave us at grandpa's house?" He smiled, and nodded his head, and Birdie felt satisfied; for she thought he must know, of course, where grandpa lived.

When they reached town, mamma took her into a store where birds are kept for sale; and Birdie saw, to her great delight, hundreds of canary-birds, and a good many bright-colored parrots. It was very funny indeed to hear them all singing and chattering together.

There were two beautiful birds in a large cage, taking their morning bath. They would jump down into their little bath-tub, dip their heads in the water, and then plunge in all over; then they would perch on the side of the tub, shake the bright drops from their feathers, and seem to be enjoying themselves as much as Birdie herself does when mamma puts her into her bath-tub.

Then there were some squirrels in a cage that went round and round; and Birdie thought she should never get tired of looking at them, with their bushy tails and bright black eyes. She saw them crack some nuts with their little sharp teeth.

There were also a great many goldfishes in a little pond; and Birdie watched them darting through the water, and thought how nice it would be to have some of them at home.

One thing more Birdie saw, which pleased her very much. On the corner of the street stood a man with a basket on his arm; and in it were four or five little black-and-white puppies ("baby-dogs" Birdie called them), all cuddled up in a heap, and looking very comfortable in their wicker-carriage.

The little girl took good care to point out all the sights to Daisy, her doll, whom she carried in her arms, and who always has to take an airing when her little mistress does.

GUESS

PRINCE AND TIP

Prince is a small shaggy dog, of a light-brown color. Tip is also a small dog, but is black, and has short, smooth hair. They are very fond of each other, and frolic together like two kittens.

Prince is always making acquaintances. He has several places in the neighborhood where he makes himself at home. He is always welcome, and he knows it: so he comes and goes as he pleases. Even when his master ties him, he cannot be kept from visiting his friends.

It was for a long time a wonder to us how he got untied; but we kept watch one day, and found that Tip, with his paws and mouth, loosened the knot, so that Prince could slip his head out; and then the two dogs scampered off in great glee. Prince, or Pinny, as we call him, plays some funny tricks. When we tell him to shake hands, he stands up on his hind-feet, and gives first his right, and then his left paw.

Sometimes we say to him, "Now, Pinny, play sick." Then he lies down, droops his head, and puts on a woe-begone look. We run around him, saying, "Poor Pinny!" and he all the while seems to enjoy the joke. As soon as we say, "Up Pinny, all well," he jumps up, shakes himself, and gives a knowing look, which seems to say, "Didn't I do that well?"

When we tell him to play beggar, he sits up on his haunches, raises his fore-paws, and whines dolefully.

When we hear a noise, and say, "See if anybody's coming, Pinny!" he goes to the door, and listens: if any one is coming, he barks loudly; if not, he comes quietly back.

Sometimes the two dogs play horses. Their master takes a rope a few feet long, and ties one end around Pinny's neck, and the other around Tip's. Then, when the word is given, they set off and gallop up the road abreast, like two ponies. When their master whistles, they turn round, and come back.

Sometimes they are harnessed to a little wagon; and the children take turns in having a ride. The dogs seem to enjoy it as much as the children. They are impatient to start; but they wait for each other to be harnessed: they are not in quite such a hurry as the dog in the following picture.

MISTRESS MOUSE

THE NAPOLEON VIOLETS

There are three profiles of famous persons to be found among the outlines of this picture, which was drawn as long ago as the year 1815. One of the profiles is of Napoleon Bonaparte, a great soldier, who made himself emperor of France; another profile is of his wife, Marie Louise; and another of his son, Napoleon Francis Charles Joseph Bonaparte, styled King of Rome, and by his father proclaimed Emperor of the French, under the title of Napoleon II., in the year 1815, when he was only about four years old.