Happy Days for Boys and Girls. Various

you were right, Pearson; you’ve done it all; and now I want you to do one thing more. Please look after Willy a bit when he comes out; he’s such a daring little chap, he’ll always be running away from the stewardess.”

      “Ah, you want me to be nurse now – do you?” said Pearson; “all right, lad, and as the song says, ‘Don’t forget me in the land you’re going to.’ And you can still stick to my old motto, that ‘Working is better than Wishing.’”

      KIND TO EVERYTHING

      SOFTLY, softly, little sister,

      Touch those gayly-painted wings;

      Butterflies and moths, remember,

      Are such very tender things.

      Softly, softly, little sister,

      Twirl your limber hazel twig;

      Little hands may harm a nestling

      Thoughtlessly, as well as big.

      Gently stroke the purring pussy,

      Kindly pat the friendly dog;

      Let your unmolesting mercy

      Even spare the toad or frog.

      Wide is God’s great world around you:

      Let the harmless creatures live;

      Do not mar their brief enjoyment,

      Take not what you cannot give.

      Let your heart be warm and tender —

      For the mute and helpless plead;

      Pitying leads to prompt relieving,

      Kindly thought to kindly deed.

      THAT CALF!

      TO the yard, by the barn, came the farmer one morn,

      And, calling the cattle, he said,

      While they trembled with fright, “Now, which of you, last night,

      Shut the barn door, while I was abed?”

      Each one of them all shook his head.

      Now the little calf Spot, she was down in the lot;

      And the way the rest talked was a shame;

      For no one, night before, saw her shut up the door;

      But they said that she did, – all the same, —

      For they always made her take the blame.

      Said the horse (dapple gray), “I was not up that way

      Last night, as I now recollect;”

      And the bull, passing by, tossed his horns very high,

      And said, “Let who may here object,

      I say ’tis that calf I suspect!”

      Then out spoke the cow, “It is terrible, now,

      To accuse honest folks of such tricks.”

      Said the cock in the tree, “I’m sure ’twasn’t me;”

      And the sheep all cried, “Bah!” (There were six.)

      “Now that calf’s got herself in a fix!”

      “Why, of course, we all knew ’twas the wrong thing to do.”

      Said the chickens. “Of course,” said the cat;

      “I suppose,” cried the mule, “some folks think me a fool;

      But I’m not quite so simple as that;

      The poor calf never knows what she’s at!”

      Just that moment, the calf, who was always the laugh

      And the jest of the yard, came in sight.

      “Did you shut my barn door?” asked the farmer once more.

      “I did, sir; I closed it last night,”

      Said the calf; “and I thought that was right.”

      Then each one shook his head. “She will catch it,” they said;

      “Serve her right for her meddlesome way!”

      Said the farmer, “Come here, little bossy, my dear!

      You have done what I cannot repay,

      And your fortune is made from to-day.

      “For a wonder, last night, I forgot the door, quite;

      And if you had not shut it so neat,

      All my colts had slipped in, and gone right to the bin,

      And got what they ought not to eat —

      They’d have foundered themselves upon wheat.”

      Then each hoof of them all began loudly to bawl;

      The very mule smiled; the cock crew;

      “Little Spotty, my dear, you’re a favorite here,”

      They cried. “We all said it was you,

      We were so glad to give you your due.”

      And the calf answered, knowingly, “Boo!”

Phœbe Cary.

      LITTLE HELPERS

      PLANTING the corn and potatoes,

      Helping to scatter the seeds,

      Feeding the hens and the chickens,

      Freeing the garden from weeds,

      Driving the cows to the pasture,

      Feeding the horse in the stall, —

      We little children are busy;

      Sure, there is work for us all.

      Spreading the hay in the sunshine,

      Raking it up when it’s dry,

      Picking the apples and peaches

      Down in the orchard hard by,

      Picking the grapes in the vineyard,

      Gathering nuts in the fall, —

      We little children are busy;

      Yes, there is work for us all.

      Sweeping, and washing the dishes,

      Bringing the wood from the shed,

      Ironing, sewing and knitting,

      Helping to make up the beds,

      Taking good care of the baby,

      Watching her lest she should fall, —

      We little children are busy;

      Oh, there is work for us all.

      Work makes us cheerful and happy,

      Makes us both active and strong;

      Play we enjoy all the better

      When we have labored so long.

      Gladly we help our kind parents,

      Quickly we come to their call;

      Children should love to be busy;

      There is much work for us all.

      THE ANIMAL IN ARMOR

      THIS picture of three curious little puppies looking at a tortoise reminds me of a story told of a countryman who saw some land-tortoises for the first time at a fair held in a market-place of his native village. Very much surprised at their queer look, he asked the man who was selling them how much they were.

      “Eighteenpence a pair,” was the answer.

      “Eighteenpence!” said the man; “that is a great deal for a thing like a frog. What will you take for one without the box?”

      Little