JANE.
There was once a little girl called Jane. Jane was five; her 
brother John 
was three; and the baby, Margaret, would be one in June.
Jane was always doing something, and often two things, 
for she talked all 
the time and to everybody. She talked to
John, to Margaret, to Mother, to Daddy, to the milkman, to 
the postman, to 
herself - a lot to herself. Now, we all know
that we cannot always talk and work, and that was a lesson 
Jane had not 
learnt.
One day Jane's mother was very busy, for it was washing 
day; and poor 
John was in bed with a cold. Mother said
to Jane, " Here is Margaret's bottle, Jane; I want you to 
feed her. Don't 
let her gulp it down; and, when she has finished, tuck her 
up and away. She will go to
sleep then. Don't excite her, dear." Off went Jane, very 
pleased and proud, to feed
Margaret.
Margaret was in her cot, talking to her toes. She bubbled 
with joy when she saw Jane and her bottle. 
Jane forgot all
about what Mother had said. When she saw
Margaret playing with her toes, she at once began telling 
her about the little pig that went to market.
The baby, however, had seen her bottle, and she would not 
listen to Jane. Jane gave her the bottle, 
and she was
happy. Jane went on talking about the little pigs, and then 
she began the story of The Three Bears. 
By the time she came to the part where Father Bear says in 
his big voice, " Who has been lying in my bed? " Margaret 
had finished her bottle. She was asleep. " Who has been 
lying in my bed? " said Jane in her biggest, deepest voice - 
so big, so deep, so growly, that Margaret woke up and 
screamed with fright.
Poor Jane, poor Margaret, poor Mother! Mother had to 
leave her washing and come to see what was the 
matter.
Margaret soon stopped crying and went to sleep, for she 
was a good baby. But unhappy Jane when Mother 
said to
her, "Well, I thought I could trust my eldest child to feed 
her little sister! "
For hours Jane was a very sad little girl. She did her best 
and played with John, and fetched pegs 
for Mother and Mrs.
Brown. Mrs. Brown came to help when there was a very 
big wash.
Jane heard Mother say, " We will have our tea early to-
day, Mrs. Brown. What with the heat, and the big wash, I 
feel I can't go on much longer." And Mrs. Brown said, 
"'Well, Mrs. Martin, as for me, I can always do with an 
early cup of tea. "
What do you think our Jane did? She went into the kitchen, 
filled the small kettle, and put it on the gas. She found the 
little brown tea-pot and warmed it. Then she put in three 
teaspoonfuls of tea, saying, " One for the pot, one for 
Mother, and one for Mrs. Brown. " Next she waited, oh, 
such a long 
time, till the water
boiled. Then with great care she filled the tea-pot, put the 
lid on, and turned out the gas.
She found  a small tray, and a cloth, two cups and saucers 
and spoons; and she did not forget  the 
sugar. Then she
tried the tea: that is, she poured a little out to
see if it looked right, for Jane had never tasted tea. Yes, it 
looked all right.
Jane put the tea-pot on the tray and took it into the wash-
house. Mother was helping Mrs. Brown to 
wring the sheets.
"Tea, ladies! " said Jane.
What a surprise it was for Mother and Mrs. Brown! How 
pleased Mother was! " Well, I never! said Mrs. 
Brown. " My clever little girl!" said Mother.
Now do you know what Jane had not put on the tray? 
Think.
Mother had to say, " My dear, run and fetch the milk from 
the safe. Then Mrs. Brown and I will have 
our tea in the
garden. "
But Jane was only five, you know.
-Retold from "The Story of Jane," by NANCY CATTY. 
(Harrap.)

TOM, THE WATER BABY.

Tom was a little chimney-sweep. One day, while he was 
asleep, the fairies turned him into a water baby. He found 
himself swimming about in a river. He was only four 
inches long, and he had a little frill round his 
neck, which he
thought was lace. When he pulled at it, it hurt. He knew 
then that it was part of himself. It was 
really a collar of gills,
and with it Tom could breathe, like a fish, under water.
Tom forgot he had ever been a dirty little chimney-sweep. 
He forgot all his old
troubles - being tired, and hungry, and beaten, and sent up 
the dark chimneys. He was clean now, and it 
was very nice
having nothing on except himself. All he had to do was to 
be happy, and to look at all the pretty 
things in the cool,
clear water.
All at once, he saw, under a bank, a very ugly, dirty thing, 
about half as long as himself. It had 
six legs, a funny head
with two great eyes, and a face just like a donkey's.
" Oh, you ugly thing! " said Tom rudely, and he began 
making faces at it. Hey presto! The thing's 
donkey-face came
off, and out popped a long arm with a pair of pincers at the 
end. They caught Tom by the nose.
" Yah, ah! Let me go! " cried Tom.
" Then leave me alone," said the thing. "I want to be quiet. 
I want to split. "
" Why do you want to split? " asked Tom.
" Because my brothers and sisters all split. They turned 
into lovely things with wings. I want to 
split too. I will split. "
Torn watched it. It swelled, and puffed, and stretched itself 
out stiff. At last - crack, puff, bang - it opened all down its 
back; and out of it came a slender, soft thing, as soft and 
smooth as Tom himself. It was very pale and weak, but 
soon it began to walk slowly up a grass stem, to the top of 
the water.
Tom was so surprised that he said not a word, but stared 
with all his eyes. He swam to the top of the 
water, to see
what would happen next.
As the poor, weak thing sat in the warm, bright sun, a great 
change came over it. It grew strong and. 
firm. Lovely
colours began to show on its body - blue and yellow and 
black in spots and bars and rings. Out of its 
back rose four
great wings of bright, brown gauze. Its eyes grew large and 
shone like ten thousand diamonds.
" Oh, you lovely thing!" said Tom, and he put out his hand 
to catch it. The thing, however, flew up 
into the air. Then
it came down to Tom again.
" No," it said, "you cannot catch me. I am a dragon-fly 
now, the king of all the flies. I will dance in the sun, and 
hawk over the river, and catch gnats, and find a lovely wife 
like myself. I know what I will do. 
Hurrah! " And it flew away.
"Oh, come back, come back, you lovely dragon-fly, " cried 
Tom. " I have no one to play with, and I 
am so lonely
here. "
" When I have had my dinner, and seen round this pretty 
place, I shall came back," said the 
dragon-fly; and it did. It
told Tom about the trees and flowers and fields; and Tom 
and the dragon-fly became great friends.
-Adapted from "The Water Babies," by CHARLES 
KINGSLEY.


Mr Bun the Baker

Mr. Bun, the baker, loved making bread. He was rather 
like a loaf himself - one of those cottage loaves with a little 
round head on top, and a large, fat, round body below. 
Mrs. Bun was like a loaf, too, but she was like a Vienna 
roll, tall and straight and thin and crusty.
Mr. Bun opened the oven door to take out his loaves. They 
were the loveliest, golden-brown, done-to-a-turn loaves 
that you 
ever saw or smelt. Ummm!
Mrs. Bun opened the door that led to the house, and saw 
Mr. Bun gazing proudly at the bread. "Mrs. Bun," said he, 
"this is 
the best bread in the town."
"Oh, indeed, Mr. Bun! " she sniffed. "I only hope it will 
make you a rich man. "  She slammed the door and went 
back to her 
work.
Mr. Bun had a very happy time in his shop. He had lots of 
customers. One was a poor little girl who 
was almost afraid
to come in. She stood first on one leg, and then on the 
other. Then she asked in a whisper, "Please, 
may I have a
penny loaf?  "
Mr. Bun smiled and shook his head. "Loaves cost more 
than a penny, my dear. Is a penny all you have?
" Yes," said the little girl, " and we are all so hungry." And 
her lip quivered - you know how!
" Well, well," said  Mr. Bun,  " perhaps we have made a 
penny loaf to-day."  He wrapped up one of his largest 
loaves, and gave it to the little girl. She clasped it with joy, 
and ran out of the shop and away 
down the street.
Round the door looked Mrs. Bun. " Mr. Bun, Mr. Bun, 
you'll never be a rich man," she said.
Later on, a little boy came into the shop. He asked for a 
loaf. " There you are, my
little man," said Mr. Bun. "Fivepence, please. "
The boy put his hand into his pocket for the sixpence he 
had, but there was no sixpence there. He 
felt in the other pocket, and he looked all over the shop 
floor, and Mr. Bun looked, too. Then they went to the shop 
door, and looked
up and down the street; but, oh, dearie me! that sixpence 
was lost. " What will Mummie say? " said 
the little boy,
and his lip quivered - you know how!
"Well, well," said Mr. Bun. "Never mind! Take the loaf, 
and be careful next time."
" Oh, thank you, Mr. Bun, " said the little boy, and away 
he ran.
Round the door looked Mrs. Bun. " Mr. Bun, Mr. Bun, 
you'll never be a rich man,"
she said.
When there was only one loaf left in the shop, and it was 
nearly closing time, an old woman came in. 
" I don't want
to buy a loaf, Mr. Bun," she said. " I have come to beg for 
crumbs to give the birds. They come to 
my window for
their breakfast every day; but to-morrow I shall have no 
bread for the them, and I have no money to buy any."
Mr. Bun shook his head. "My bread does not crumble on 
the shelves, my good
woman, so I haven't any crumbs. But there, you may have 
this loaf for 
yourself and the birds." He gave her the last
loaf.
He was shutting the shop, when Mrs. Bun looked round 
the door. "Well, I 
declare, Mr. Bun! " she said. You'll never be
a rich man."
That night Mr. Bun had a strange dream. He dreamed that 
they were looking 
for or the richest man in the town to
make him Mayor. Now, Mr. Bun had always thought he 
would like to be Mayor. 
He felt that the Mayor's chain would
look well round his neck. " But they will never ask me, " 
he said to himself. " Mrs. Bun says I shall never be rich."
Well, he dreamed that they did ask him to be Mayor. "Oh! 
he was so pleased! 
But why ask me? " he said.
"Why, you're the richest man in the town," they said, " 
because you've made 
the most people happy! "
And Mrs. Bun said nothing at all.
-R D. DAINTREE, in "Child Education." (Evans.) 
(Adapted.)

HARE AND TORTOISE.
One day Hare was telling all the other animals what a fast 
runner he was. " I have never been beaten," said he. 
"Would anyone here care to try to race me? "
No one spoke. Then Tortoise said in a quiet voice, " Yes, 
Hare, I should like to try."
Hare could hardly help smiling. Fancy racing with an 
animal as slow as a tortoise! "Oh, very well," he said. "It's 
rather silly we two having a race, but I don't
mind running to please you."
They marked out the track, and fixed on the winning-post. 
Then, they both started. The hare was off like a shot, and
out of sight in no time. The tortoise just jogged along very 
slowly.
When Hare looked back, and saw Tortoise ever so far 
behind, he laughed. " Just to let him see what I think of his
racing," said Hare to himself, " I shall lie down here and 
have a little sleep. There will be plenty of time to take a 
rest
and win the race too." He lay down and went to sleep.
Slow old Tortoise plodded on. At last he came to where 
Hare lay fast asleep. With a sly little smile, Tortoise passed
him by and kept jogging on. All the time he was keeping 
his eye on the winning-post.
By and by, Hare woke up. " Oh," he said with a stretch and 
a yawn, " now I must finish this stupid race. " He
bounded off, and in a minute or two he reached the 
winning-post.
But who was that he saw sitting there! It was old slow-
coach Tortoise! He had won the race and was now having 
a quiet rest.
So Hare learnt the lesson: Slow and sure wins the race.

HATUPATU.
A very long time ago, there lived a little Maori boy, called 
Hatupatu. His home was a camp in the great forest. There 
he lived with his two big brothers. They went out every 
day to catch birds for food, and Hatupatu looked after the 
camp.
In the evening, the brothers used to come home with their 
bag of birds. Then they set to work and 
cooked them. They put the best birds into pots and casks, 
and poured hot fat over them. Then they put them away in 
the 
store-house, to
keep for the winter.
Supper came next. The brothers ate the tender, juicy birds, 
and they gave Hatupatu the old, tough 
ones for his
supper. The poor little fellow sat by the camp fire, and 
tried to eat the hard, dry meat.  He ate a little; then cried a 
little; then ate again; then cried again.
One day, after his brothers had gone, Hatupatu peeped into 
the store-house. He saw rows of pots and casks, which 
held the potted birds. He was hungry, and a young bird 
would be very nice to eat. Hatupatu came away quickly, 
lest he should want to steal a bird.
He played for or a long time among the trees and ferns. 
Then he felt more hungry than ever. He looked 
into the store-house again. Then he poked his brown 
fingers into one of the pots.
" I will take just one little bird, " he said to himself. "It will 
not be missed." He pulled a bird 
out of the hard fat, and the
next minute his strong white teeth were digging into the 
tender flesh. How nice it was!
Hatupatu then looked at the hole he had made in the fat. 
"They will beat, me for that, anyway," he said, " so I may 
as well have one more bird." He ate another, and another, 
and still another. There were now many holes in the pots 
of fat.
" They will give me a beating! " said Hatupatu to himself, 
and he began to feel
frightened. Then he thought of a plan. He took a spear and 
ran it into his own arms and legs. The blood came, but the
cuts were not very sore. When he heard his brothers 
coming home, he lay down as if he were badly hurt.
" What's the matter? " asked the brothers when they came 
into the camp. " Who hurt you, Hatupatu?  And who has 
been in the store-house, stealing our birds? "
"A war-party came," said the naughty Hatupatu. " They 
ran their spears into me; and they ate those birds."
The brothers put some warm fat on Hatupatu's cuts to heal 
them. Then they made supper. As usual, they ate the
tender
birds, and gave Hatupatu the tough ones. He was not 
hungry that night. Still, he could not help crying at the way 
his
big brothers treated him. They only laughed and said, "Oh, 
he's not crying; it's the smoke from the fire making his
eyes water. "
Every day after that, Hatupatu ate some
of the birds in the store-house.
" Someone is still taking our potted birds, " said one 
brother to the other. "Could it be that young Hatupatu ?"
One day the brothers went off to hunt, and then they crept 
back to the camp again. They hid in the ferns and watched. 
Before long, they saw Hatupatu go into the storehouse. 
They looked in, and there he was at his stolen feast!
"Ha, ha! We've caught you this time, you bad boy!" they 
said. They beat
Hatupatu and beat him, until he lay as if dead. Then the 
brothers knew that they
had been far more wicked than Hatupatu. They were 
frightened, and they ran away into the forest. They 
never came
back to the camp again.
Hatupatu was not dead. A Maori spirit came and made him 
well again. He jumped up and looked round. When he saw 
that his brothers had left him, he did not mind. He was big 
enough now to look after himself, and off he went to kill 
birds with his own
wooden spear.


MILLY-MOLLY-MANDY GETS LOCKED IN.
One Saturday morning, Milly-Molly-Mandy went upstairs 
to her little bedroom to make her bed. Topsy, 
the cat, ran up
with her.
Now, Topsy just loved Milly-Molly-Mandy to make her 
own bed. Topsy would jump into the middle of the 
bed and
crouch down, and Milly-Molly-Mandy would pretend not 
to know that she was there. She would thump the 
pillows and
roll Topsy about with them. Then she would throw a 
blanket over, and pretend to smooth out the lump 
that was really
Topsy. Topsy would crawl out, and make a dive under the 
next blanket. It took quite a long time to 
make the bed.
Well , Milly-Molly-Mandy finished at last. She was so 
much out of breath that she leaned against 
the door to rest.
Topsy, the cat, sat in the middle of the bed-cover to tidy 
herself. Then Milly-Molly-Mandy wrapped 
her duster round
Topsy to carry them both downstairs. What a surprise she 
got when she could not open the door! It had 
shut with a
bang when she leaned against it.
" Well," said Milly-Molly-Mandy to Topsy, "now what are 
we going to do? " She put Topsy down and tried the door 
again; but it would not open.
She called, " Mother! " But Mother was downstairs in the 
kitchen, baking. Milly-Molly-Mandy called "Aunty! " But 
Aunty was in the sitting-room, dusting. She called, 
Grandma!" But Grandma was round by the back door, 
feeding  the birds.
" Well," said Milly-Molly-Mandy to Topsy, "this is a 
waste of a fine Saturday."
Then she had an idea. She took the cord from her dressing-
gown, and tied it to a piece of string from 
her coat pocket,
and a piece of blue ribbon, and the belt of her frock, and 
her two boot-laces. Topsy looked on all 
the time. Then Milly-Molly-Mandy tied her little yellow 
basket to the end of this long line. She let it down from the 
window, till it swung in
front of the scullery window below.
Nobody came, and Milly-Molly-Mandy grew tired of 
swinging the basket. She tied the end of the line to 
the window
catch, and left it hanging.
" Well," said Milly-Molly-Mandy to Topsy, "it's a good 
thing I have such a nice little bedroom to be shut in! " 
Topsy, the cat, just turned round and round on the bed and 
curled up to go to sleep.
 Then Milly-Molly-Mandy thought of the bonnet she was 
making for Baby Moggs. It
was of pale pink wool. She sat down on the floor and 
began to crochet. It was not easy, but Milly-Molly-Mandy 
worked and worked,
until she came to the end of the row. Then
she turned round and worked all the way back
again.
The window catch, to which her line was tied, gave a little 
click. She ran to see if anyone was 
touching the line, and
she saw something in the little yellow basket. She pulled it 
up quickly; and what do you think? In 
the basket was a
paper of that nice sugar that comes inside lemon peel. 
Mother had thought the basket on the line was 
just a game,
and she had popped the sugar in for a surprise.
" How nice! " said Milly-Molly-Mandy, and she dropped 
the basket down again, and went back to her 
work. She
worked and crunched, and crunched and worked, until she 
had done four rows of the bonnet and eaten 
all the sugar.
Then, after all this time, Mother called, "Milly-Molly-
Mandy! What are you doing, dear? You ought to be 
outside." Milly-Molly-Mandy looked out 
and saw Mother in the garden, and she told her all about 
the door. Mother came running up, but she could not open 
it. 
Neither could
Aunty.
Mother said that Milly-Molly-Mandy must just wait till 
Father came home; and Milly-Molly-Mandy sat 
down again to
her work. Before long, the line outside the window clicked 
at the catch again. Milly-Molly-Mandy 
looked down and
saw a big red apple in the little yellow basket. She pulled it 
up and went back and worked at the 
bonnet, between big
bites at the big red apple.
Just before dinner time, Father came home, and Mother 
took him up to Milly-Molly-Mandy's door. They 
tinkered with
the lock, rattling and clicking and tapping. And Milly-
Molly-Mandy went on with the bonnet. Then 
Father said through
the crack, " I'll have to break the lock, Milly-Molly-
Mandy, so you mustn't mind a noise."
Milly-Molly-Mandy put her work down, and said, " No, 
Father! " Then Father gave some big bangs on the lock, 
and the door burst open, and Mother and Father came in. 
Milly-Molly-Mandy was very pleased indeed to see them. 
She held up the bonnet and said, " Look, I've done nine 
rows. I think it's nearly finished. "
Mother said, " That's splendid, Milly-Molly-Mandy I'll 
look at it after dinner. You had better come downstairs 
now."
After dinner, Mother helped Milly-Molly-Mandy to finish 
the bonnet. Then 
Milly-Molly-Mandy took it in tissue paper
round to Mrs. Moggs' place. Mrs. Moggs and little-friend-
Susan put the 
bonnet on the baby, and tied it under her soft
little chin. It just fitted. 
It was really a good thing that Milly-Molly-Mandy got 
locked in, and 
finished the bonnet before Baby Moggs had time
to grow, for the bonnet was only just big enough. And you 
can't think what 
a darling Baby Moggs looked in it!
-Adapted from "More of Milly-Molly-Mandy," by JOYCE 
LANKESTER BRISLEY. 
(Whitcombe and Tombs.)

DAVID BARGERY.
David Bargery was a dreamer. He would roam about the 
garden, talking to himself and pretending to be a 
policeman or a dustman or a bus-driver. Sometimes he 
would sit on the floor and stare into the fire, and pay no 
heed at all to what was going on around him. And he was 
for ever asking questions like these:
"Why is the sky blue? Why is the sea salt? Why does the 
smoke go up and the rain come down ? "
"And why," his father would say, "do little boys for ever 
ask questions? " 
" Daddy," said David one day at dinner, why doesn't the 
moon fall down? "
Before Mr. Bargery could answer, David's big brother, 
Henry, said, " Because it's pasted up, of  course. "
"If it's pasted up," said David, "how can it move across the 
sky? "
" Pasted up, indeed!" said David's big sister, Phyllis. "How 
can it be pasted up? There's nothing to paste it to. 
Besides, it's not flat like a piece of paper; it's round like a 
ball. "
"But it doesn't look like a ball," said David. " Sometimes 
it's only a thin strip."
" That's because the rest of the moon has been chopped up 
to make stars! " said David's father.
Then David asked, " Do the little bits come together again 
as the moon grows rounder? "
David's mother spoke: " Now, David, stop asking 
questions and eat your dinner, or you'll get no pudding."
Next day at tea time he started again.
"What I want to know," he said, " is what the world is 
made of - the inside of the world, I mean."
"Dirt," said Jane, his other sister.
"Yes, but where does the dirt come from? " he asked.
" I know where the dirt in this house comes from," said 
Mrs. Bargery. "It comes from your boots and Henry's."
No one spoke for a time. Then  David broke out again. " 
Why is the face of the sun sometimes red? " he asked.
" And why is Father's face always red? said Henry.
" Henry! " said Mrs. Bargery.
" Never mind him, Mother," said Mr. Bargery. " I can 
answer that question. My face is red through blushing at 
the
rudeness of my son. "
One day a terrible thing happened. David could not be 
found. When Henry came home from school, his mother
asked, " Where's David? "
" I don't know," said Henry. " I haven't seen him since 
dinner time."
" Well, he hasn't come home from school," said Mrs. 
Bargery. " He should be here by half past three, and it's 
now four o'clock. Go back to school, there's a good boy, 
and see if you can find him."
Henry went back, but found no sign of David. The door of 
the infant school (David's school) was locked, and all the
children had gone. Henry ran home again. Still no David! 
The whole family was now alarmed.
The three children made a search party. Off they went 
along all the streets, and they called at all the houses where
David might have gone. Still no clue! Henry hoped to find 
him at the blacksmith's, for David and the blacksmith were
great friends. No, David had not been there at all that day.
When they got back home, it was nearly six o'clock, and 
nothing had been seen or heard of David. Jane's eyes were
red with crying, and Henry had fear at his heart. Mrs. 
Bargery's face was pale and anxious, although she tried to 
be cheerful.
" Mother," said Mr. Bargery at last, you come and look 
after the shop, while I go to the police-station. "
At that moment they heard footsteps on the stairs. The 
door of the sitting-room opened - and in walked David.
He had been upstairs all the time, using a new box of 
paints, which his Uncle Peter had given him; and he had 
forgotten all about tea. For the rest of that evening Jane 
kept as close to David as she could, and, when she could, 
she held him by the hand. She seemed afraid that the 
fairies would spirit him away.
-Adapted from "The Bargerys," by P. B. BALLARD. 
(University of London Press.)

THE TIN SOLDIER.
Once upon a time a big old tin spoon was made into 
twenty-five tin soldiers. When the last soldier's 
turn came, there
was not quite enough tin to finish him. He was, therefore, 
left with only one leg. The soldiers were 
all painted red and
blue, and they stood very straight, with their guns on their 
shoulders.
The soldiers were put in a box and given to a little boy for 
or his birthday. " Tin
soldiers!" he shouted with joy, when he opened the box. 
He stood them on the table, and soon they 
were looking at
the other toys all round them.
The. prettiest toy was a card-board castle with a little lady 
standing at the door. She wore a frilly 
white dress, trimmed
with blue ribbon and a large sparkling rose. The little lady 
was a dancer, and she stood there all 
the time on the point
of one foot.
" She's like me," said the one-legged soldier. " She stands 
on one leg. She would he just the wife for me. "
When night came, the little boy went to bed, and then the 
toys began to have their fun. The nut-crackers cut capers; 
the pencil played games with the slate; and they all made 
so much noise that they woke the canary. He began to talk 
in poetry. The only two that did not move were the dancer 
and our tin soldier. He lay quite still and kept his eyes 
fixed on the little lady.
The clock struck twelve. Open flew a box and out sprang a 
black goblin. " Tin soldier," said he, "keep your eyes to 
yourself." The tin soldier pretended not to hear. "Very 
well, you wait till to-morrow," said the goblin.
The next morning, the little boy left the one-legged tin 
soldier on the window sill. It may have been 
the wind, or it may
have been the goblin, that sent the tin soldier flying, head 
first, down into the street below. The 
boy rushed
downstairs, but could not find him anywhere. If the tin 
soldier had called out, "Here I am," he would 
have been found;
but, being a soldier, he was too proud to call for help.
Rain began to fall. Down it came, faster and faster, until a 
stream of water was soon running in the gutter. Two boys 
came along the street, and they found the tin soldier. "We 
will give him a sail, " they said. They made a paper 
boat, put the tin
soldier in it, and sent him sailing down the gutter.
How rough the water was! The boat rocked up and down 
and twisted round and round. But the tin soldier 
looked
straight before him. He held his gun in his hand.
All at once, the boat sailed under a gutter board. "How 
dark it is!" said the tin
soldier. " It is all that black goblin's doing. If the pretty 
dancer were with me, I should not mind 
a bit. "
Just then a great water-rat popped out.
"Where is your pass? " he asked. The tin soldier did not 
say a word; he only held his gun more 
tightly. The boat sailed
on faster and faster, and the water-rat could not catch it.
Then the tunnel ended, and the water fell over a ledge 
down into a river. The boat shot over this water-fall; it 
spun round and round and filled with water. The tin soldier 
stood up to his neck in water. At last the paper boat fell to 
pieces. The tin soldier sank into the water, and he was at 
once swallowed by a fish.
It was very dark inside the fish, but the tin soldier did not 
cry out. He held his gun more firmly than ever, and did not 
once forget that he-was a soldier. Then the fish began to 
jump and twist and turn, and at last it lay quite still.
The fish had been caught; and it was taken to the tin 
soldier's old home for dinner. There came a bright flash, 
and the tin soldier saw the light once more. Someone cried, 
"Look! a tin soldier inside this fish! "
The little boy saw it, and he said, " Why, it's my lost tin 
soldier! Look at his one leg! "
The tin soldier was put back among all the toys again. 
How happy he was! And there, best of all, was 
the little
dancing lady, still standing on one foot, and still looking at 
him. The tin soldier nearly wept tin 
tears of joy, but that
would never do for a soldier. He looked at her and she 
looked at him, but neither said a word.
Then, sad to say, the baby grabbed the tin soldier and 
threw him into the fire. It must have been the black goblin 
that made the baby do it. The tin soldier now stood in 
a red blaze. He looked at the little dancer, and she looked 
at him. He felt he was melting, but, brave as ever, he still 
held his gun.
A puff of wind came at that moment. It caught the dancer 
and blew her right into the fire beside the tin soldier. They 
were together at last, but it was not for long.
Next morning, the servant found in the ashes a lump of tin 
shaped like a little heart. That was all that was left of the 
tin soldier; and all that was left of the little dancing lady 
was a rose, burnt black as coal.
-Adapted from "Fairy Tales of Hans Anderson."


THE RUNAWAY BUNNY.
"Walk up, ladies! Come along, boys and girls! Don't miss 
the chance of seeing magic
done before your very !" The man that shouted these 
words stood near a big tent at the Fair.
Soon there was a crowd of people to see the magic-man. 
One by one they went into
the tent, and quickly the rows of chairs filled up. At the 
end of the front row sat a lady
with a heavy basket. It. had soap, sugar, butter, and bacon 
in it; and on top sat a large, fresh lettuce. She put the 
basket on the ground beside her, and looked at the stage.
On the stage was a table with two tumblers on it, a pack of 
cards, some gay flags, and a top-hat with a black cloth 
spread over it.
When the tent was full, a bell rang, and the magic-man 
came on to the stage. He  bowed, and every one clapped. 
The magic was about to begin.
"Has any one a nice fresh egg? " asked the magic-man, 
rubbing his long white hands
together. Nobody had, not even the lady with the big 
basket.
" Are you sure there are no eggs in your basket, madam? " 
asked the magic-man. "May I just look? " 
And he
hopped off the stage. He bent down to the basket, lifted off 
the lettuce, and from under it he took - 
a lovely brown egg!
" Goodness me! " gasped the lady. " I didn't buy any eggs 
to-day. Why, it's just magic! " and, of 
course, that is just
what it was.
Then wonderful things happened to that egg. Now it was 
in a boy's pocket; now in the bow on a lady's 
hat; and once
the magic-man just found it in the air. At last, he was tired 
of the egg, and ate it whole.
Then he took the top-hat off the table and put it on the 
floor, still with the black cloth spread over it.
" Ladies and gentlemen," said the magic-man. " I have 
something in that top-hat that
will surprise you. But first let me show you a little magic 
with these two tumblers, and this string of flags."
Now, it was a little bunny that was in the top-hat. As a 
rule, he was a very good little bunny, and 
sat as quiet as a
mouse in the top-hat, till the magic-man was ready to use 
him for his best trick. That day, however, 
he was hot and
cross. It was so dark and stuffy in the top-hat!
The rabbit popped up his head, and peeped out under a 
corner of the black cloth. Something caught his eye, 
something that made him forget the magic-man, his trick, 
and everything. Out of the hat he hopped, and went 
straight to the lettuce in the lady's basket. No one saw him.
The magic-man's trick with the tumblers was a very good 
one, and all eyes were fixed on him for the next bit of 
magic.
" And now, ladies and gentlemen," he said, " I will ask you 
to watch me closely. From this top-hat, you will see me 
take a rabbit! Then the rabbit will vanish, and, when next 
you see it-"
He picked up the top-hat, and took off the black cloth. The 
top-hat was empty! The magic-man frowned, 
and he
looked quickly round the stage. Then his eye fell on the 
lady's basket. His frown turned to a smile.
" Madam," he said, " did you not have a lettuce in your 
basket? You will find that
my magic wand has turned your lettuce into a rabbit! "
Well, it sounded all right, but the lady, did not think much 
of that bit 
of magic. When she saw the little bunny sitting
up in her basket, eating her big lettuce, she said, "Well! " 
and her face went red and angry.
Like a flash, the rabbit was off, in and out among the feet 
and chairs. 
In a second he had squeezed under the side of
the tent, and he was out in the open field.
" I'm free, I'm free! I'll never go back
again! " cried the bunny, and gave a skip
of joy. Then off he hopped to the hedge,
popped into a rabbit hole, and he was seen
no more.
 As for the magic-man, he had to get a new bunny for his 
best trick. I rather think,
too, that he had to buy the lady with the basket a new 
lettuce.
 -Adapted from "Visits to Storyland," B3,  by ESMEE 
MASCALL. (Macdougall's Educational Co., Ltd.)

THE BOY THAT FLEW TOO HIGH.
There once lived a very clever man, who could make all 
kinds of things. There was one thing, however, 
that neither he
nor anyone else had ever made. That thing was a pair of 
wings, on which a man or boy could fly. The 
man used to
watch the sea-gulls flying about the beach, and wish he 
could make lovely wings like theirs.
He had a good reason for wanting to fly. The island, on 
which he was living with his son, Icarus,* 
was not their real
home; and the king of the island would not let them go 
away. He kept a watch on all the boats and 
ships, so that
Icarus and his father could not get away by sea. The only 
way would be to steal off by air.
"I'll try to make wings," said the man who could make so 
many other things.
He gathered bags and bags of feathers. Then he made 
wooden frames with cunning springs in them. Next 
he fixed
the large feathers on to the frames with thread, and stuck 
the smaller ones on with wax.
Icarus watched his father while he worked. What a thrill it 
would be to fly like a bird!
At last the two great pairs of wings were finished. The 
father tried his own pair first, and found, 
to his great joy, that he
could fly with them. Then he fixed the other pair to his 
son's shoulders and showed him how to fly.

Say ik-a-rus.

Icarus was excited when his feet  left the ground, and he 
found  himself flying through the air. The father then told 
Icarus that they were going to fly away from the island to 
their old home. He said to the boy, "When we go, keep 
close to me. Don't fly too low, for then the mist will wet 
your wings. Don't fly too high either, for then
the hot sun will melt the wax that is holding the feathers 
together. "
In secret, one fine morning, the two flyers started off. Soon 
they were flying away over the sea, 
with the people on the
island looking after  them in wonder. Icarus was too happy 
to think of anything but the 
joy of flying. His father was thinking more of
reaching their home in safety.
On and on they flew. It was glorious! Icarus soared higher 
and higher. He 
felt he could fly right up to heaven! He forgot
all about keeping close to his father, who was now a long 
way ahead of him. 
He forgot , too, that he should not fly too
high. Up, up, he went.
Then, all at once, he felt the burning heat of the great sun. 
He saw 
feathers falling from his wings. Flying became
hard. " Something has gone wrong with my wings! " he 
cried.
It was too true. The great heat had melted the wax, and the 
feathers were 
falling faster and faster. Soon the frames of
the wings were half bare. The poor boy tried hard to keep 
flying, but it 
was of no use. Down, down he dropped, first
like a falling leaf, then like a stone. He sank beneath the 
waves of the 
sea.
His father had heard Icarus cry out. He flew back as fast as 
he could, but 
he was too late. A few feathers were
floating on the waves, and they were all that was to be seen 
of the flying 
boy.
The sad father had to fly on alone. The joy of going home 
was spoilt for 
him. When he reached his own land, he hung his wings on 
the wall of the temple, and 
never again did he fly on the wonderful wings he had 
made.

RAGS
There was once a dog called Rags. He had a collar with his 
name on it, and 
a plate, and a cushion, and two balls
with holes in them. Everyone knew that these things were 
Rags' very own; 
but he had three other things which
nobody knew of except himself. They were a ham-bone, a 
beef-bone, and a 
mutton-bone.
Rags hid his bones under the straw at the back of his 
kennel, but it did 
not seem a very safe place. There was a
nasty, yellow cat, which used to sneak over the wall now 
and then, and it 
would be sure to smell them out.
" I'll bury them," thought Rags, and he walked round the 
garden to find a good spot. He found a nice soft patch, 
where Mr. Smith had planted some young cabbages. Rags 
made a large hole, brought the bones one by one, dropped 
them in, and covered them with soil.
" That's all safe," said he, thinking of the yellow cat. He 
forgot about Mr. Smith.
"Bother that dog!" said Mr. Smith, when he found six of 
his young cabbages with their roots in the 
air. He dug up the
bones and threw them away.
That evening Rags could not find his bones anywhere. He 
dug first in one spot and then in another. 
When he had
finished, most of the cabbages were dug up; but Rags did 
not mind; he did not like cabbages. Next morning he found 
the beef-bone and the mutton-bone on the rubbish heap.
He made a hole for the beef-bone under a gooseberry bush, 
where it was too prickly for Mr. Smith to 
go, and a hole
for the mutton-bone behind the bushes near the front gate. 
The ground was much harder than in the 
cabbage bed; but
Mr. Smith looked so very cross that Rags chose to keep 
out of sight.
The beef-bone vanished the next day, and Rags blamed the 
yellow cat. There was now only the 
mutton-bone left.
Rags kept digging it up and hiding it in a fresh place. He 
gnawed it a little now and then, but not very much, 
because he wanted to make it last a long time.
One day, after he had buried it for the tenth time, he 
slipped into the kitchen. No one was there, and Rags could 
hear Mary scrubbing the tiles outside.
No harm in seeing what there's going to be for dinner, 
thought Rags. 

VERY BARE INDEED.

He jumped on to a chair. " Steak! " he yapped, and his 
mouth began to water. His nose got nearer and 
nearer to the
meat. Then he put out his tongue to get a little taste. Next 
he chewed a piece off one corner; then 
he tried another
corner, and another. When he sat back and licked his lips, 
the plate looked very bare, very bare 
indeed.
"Mary is sure to notice," he thought. "I think I had better 
go."
At that moment he had a bright idea - the mutton-bone! He 
ran into the 
garden and dug it up. "I shall not have any
bones left now, " he said to himself , as he trotted with it 
back to the 
house; " but one must be fair. It's a very nice
bone too; there's still a lot of gristle at one end; and it's 
only a 
little bit muddy. I'm sure Mary will be pleased. "
When, however, Mary came back into the kitchen, she did 
not seem pleased 
at all.
" That wicked puppy! " she cried. " If he hasn't taken my 
steak and left 
a horrible, dirty old bone in its place! Just wait
till I catch him! "
Rags did not wait to be caught. He ran off as fast as he 
could with his 
tail tucked between his legs. The bone came
flying out of the window after him, and he jumped to one 
side with a yelp.
In a minute he went back for or the bone.
"If she doesn't want it, " he thought, " I may as well keep 
it. I'll bury it in the pansy bed. But I'll have a little rest 
first. It's funny how sleepy steak makes one feel."
-Adapted from "Fifteen Tales for Lively Children," by 
MARGARET BAKER. 
(University of London Press.)


RED RIBBONS.
One day a little mermaid, called Coralie, was sitting on a 
rock with a 
mermaid friend. " What will you wear at the
Queen's ball, Coralie? " asked the little friend. " I am going 
to have a 
fringe  of sea-grass all the way down my tail.
Coralie sighed. "That will be very pretty, " she said. " 
Now, I had set my 
heart on red ribbons. You know that lovely
ribbon sea-weed that grows in deep water. I shall never 
have it, because 
I'm afraid of the deep-sea fishes. I suppose I must just do 
the best I can with some pretty shells." And she sighed 
again.
"Never mind, dear, I'm sure you will look very nice," said 
the other mermaid. " I must be off now. I shall see you at 
the ball. " With a wave of her hand, she dived into the sea, 
and was gone.
Coralie sat with her chin in her hand, and looked sadly at 
Flick, her pet fish. She loved Flick just as you may love 
your pet dog. " Oh, Flick," she said, "I did want to look 
nice at the ball. It was red ribbons I wanted to wear, you 
know. Well, it can't be helped, and I must not be silly 
about it."
Flick gazed up at his little mistress with his goggly eyes. 
Then he winked 
one eye, and darted away. His mind was
made up.
" She shall have her red ribbons," said Flick to himself. " I 
will get them 
for her ! "
Flick knew that the red ribbons grew in the deep water, 
close to where the terrible squid lived; and down there he 
went. He saw the ugly thing moving in the clear water - a 
great grey lump, with eight long wriggly arms and two 
feelers longer still, which waved to and fro in search of 
food. Close to the 
squid grew the finest red ribbons Flick had ever
seen.

CORALIE AND FLICK.

"I must have them," he said. "But oh, that dreadful squid! 
How can I dodge it? "
Very quietly Flick made his way down to the rock where 
the red ribbons 
grew. He kept under the sea-weed, but he
felt sure that the squid's eyes were fixed on him. Just a 
second more, 
and he would be close enough to dart at the
stalk that held the ribbon to the rock. He would bite the 
stalk off with 
his sharp teeth.
"Now!" said Flick to himself, and he made a dart. Like a 
flash, a long grey arm shot out. The squid had seen him.
Poor Flick! It seemed as if his end had come; but, no!
At the same moment a long shape rushed down upon the 
squid. It was a huge conger-eel. The squid forgot Flick, for 
now it must fight for its life.

FLICK AND THE SQUID.

To hide from the eel, it threw out a jet of ink, which made 
the water black all round it. Then all was a rush and swirl 
of flying arms and lashing tail.
Flick felt he would die of fright, but he knew that this was 
his chance. Quickly he bit off the stalk of sea-weed, and
away he
swam with the red ribbons streaming from his mouth.
How the fight between the squid and the conger-eel ended, 
we shall never know, for Flick did not wait to see. He 
swam swiftly back to his little mistress, and, with a happy 
heart, gave her the red ribbons.
So, after all, the prettiest little mermaid at the Queen's ball 
was Coralie. From top to tip, her tail was tied with ribbons, 
knots and bows of shiny, gay, red ribbons.
-Adapted from " Visits to Storyland," No. B. I, by ESMEE 
MASCALL. (McDougall's Educational Co., Ltd.)

TWO LITTLE DUTCH SISTERS.
[Susie and Betty were two little Dutch girls. Susie was 
four, and Betty six. They lived in a small village, but they 
had come to visit the city, where their big sister, Mary, was 
a maid in a large house.]
" What are all these steeples, Mary?" Betty asked, as she 
gazed in surprise at the high city houses.
" Those are not steeples," said Mary; "they are houses. 
See, we are going into
this one. " Mary opened a door and took the little girls into 
the kitchen.
The whole place was a wonder to those country children. 
There was a good 
smell of hot food, too, but Mary gave
them no time to look at all the strange things. She took off 
their shawls 
and caps, tidied their hair, and put on their
best white aprons.
" Come, girls," Mary said, " we must go upstairs."
"Are we going up to the attic? " asked Betty. In her village 
there were no 
houses with two stories, so going upstairs
meant going to the attic.
" Yes, " said Mary; " skip along!
Upstairs in the "attic" they found a lady in a very lovely 
room. She came 
to meet the children.
" So our little visitors really have come," she said. "Well, 
girlies, 
how do you like it here in the city?"
"Oh, it's lovely, Miss," said Betty. The lady was prettily 
dressed like 
Betty's school teacher, so Betty called her "Miss," and the 
lady laughed.
"And this is our little Susie, " said the lady. " Would you 
like a little 
cake? " and she took a tin from the cupboard.
Then " Miss " showed them a pretty picture book, while 
Mary laid the table 
in the dining room. Betty and Susie were
not, however, quite happy without their big sister, and the 
lady soon said, "Mary will take you down now."
They were happier when they were alone with Mary in the 
kitchen, and soon 
their tongues were wagging.
"Mary, how grand it is here! Does
'Miss' live all alone up in the attic? Why doesn't she come 
down here with us? Mary, is that a silver soap-dish? And 
are all those pans gold and silver, too? ' Miss ' must be 
very rich! " They did not wait for answers.
Next, Mary gave them a little rice on a saucer, and she 
poured over it some 
redcurrant sauce. How lovely it looked!
They had never seen such fine food before; but it was too 
hot to eat at 
once. Susie could not wait, and she stuck her
finger in the sauce and blew on it till it was cold. Then she 
put her 
tongue out and licked it. But Mary said, " No, no, Susie, 
we don't do that here! Everybody eats with a spoon in this 
house; but be careful or you'll burn yourselves. "
How delicious it was! The little girls made it last as long as 
ever they could. They took tiny bites, 
and let them melt
away on their tongues - such fun!
Susie and Betty were very surprised when, before long, 
Mary took dinner upstairs for
"Miss" and her husband, who had just come home. Why 
did they not come to the kitchen to eat?
Then the three sisters sat down to their meal; but the rice 
had been almost enough for the children: 
they were not
used to having very much to eat. It was a pity they could 
not enjoy the other nice things. With a sigh, Mary put 
away the meat and gravy without the little girls having 
even tried them.
When the dishes were washed, " Miss" came into the 
kitchen. She said she was going out for the 
evening, and the
children must have a good time. She gave them twopence 
to buy ginger-nuts, and told Mary to make them a cup of 
cocoa.
" Well, why don't you say something?" Mary asked the 
little girls, with a laugh.
Aren't you pleased? "
" Yes! " said Susie and Betty together; but they were very 
quiet, for they had never known such joy before. Mary saw 
from their sparkling eyes how happy they were.
"Well, now," said Mary, as she set a pan of milk on the 
fire, " I'll make the cocoa, while you go 
quickly across the
road to the baker's, and buy twopence-worth of 
gingernuts." She led the children to the outside door, 
and showed
them the baker's shop with the bright light in the window.
The little girls were not very brave. They clung to Mary's 
skirts, afraid to go out alone in the 
great city; but Mary said, "See, I'll leave the door open; 
and you only have to run across the street. I must run back 
to the 
kitchen or the milk will
boil over."
Susie and Betty stood at the door a minute. Betty put on 
her wooden shoes, and Susie looked proudly 
down at the
fine leather ones she was lucky enough to have. Then they 
took hands and crossed the brightly-lit 
street. It was all
very strange, they thought, such bright lights everywhere, 
and such high, high houses
At the end of the street a gang of wild boys had an ice-
slide, and they were making a great noise. 
The little girls ran till they reached the baker's shop.
"And what will you two young ladies have? " asked the fat 
baker, looking in surprise at the two little country girls.
They felt very shy, and Betty squeezed the two pennies in 
her hand. At last she said in a soft whisper, " Twopence-
worth of ginger-nuts, please."
Ginger-nuts, is that what you want?" The baker got a jar, 
and shook out two handfuls of the most delicious ginger-
nuts, crunchy and brown, with aniseed in them. Susie and 
Betty slipped out into the street again - and now, home to 
Mary! But oh! which door was the one where Mary lived!
(To be continued.)
-Retold from "Afke's Ten," translated from the Dutch of 
Ninke Fan Hichtum 
by MARIE K. PIGEON.


SAINT FRANCIS AND THE BIRDS.
Saint Francis lived in Italy a long time ago. He was of all 
men the most 
gentle and the most kind. He could have had
great riches, but he chose to live like a poor man. He used 
to spend his 
time helping the sick and the unhappy. The people used to 
crowd round to hear him speak to them.
Saint Francis wore a coarse brown tunic with a rope round 
the waist, and 
he ate very plain food. As he walked bare-foot along the 
roads with his friends, he sang gay songs, for he had a 
merry heart and liked to sing.
 Besides loving men and women and boys
and girls, Saint Francis loved all the birds  
and beasts. He used to call the birds his
little sisters. One day he was standing
under some trees, preaching to a crowd of
people. There were flocks of swallows about, and their 
chirping and twittering were so loud that Saint Francis 
could not make, himself heard.
He stopped speaking and looked at the birds. " Little 
sisters, " he said, " it is my turn to speak now. Please be 
quiet until I have finished." At once the swallows were 
silent. They seemed to know quite well what Saint Francis 
was saying to them. Then he went on talking to the people; 
but they could not help looking in wonder at the silent 
birds.
How strange it was! They never forgot it.
Another time, Saint Francis was passing birds of all kinds 
in a field. He said to his friends, "Wait for me here, while I 
go and preach to my little sisters, the birds." He walked 
over to the birds, and they all came 
flocking round him, and
stood in rows before him.
" Little sister birds," he said, " you should always love and 
praise God who made you. He has given 
you the sweet air
to live in. He has found good food for you to eat, and fresh 
water for you to drink. He made the 
trees in which you
build your nests, the wings on which you fly, and the 
feathers that keep you warm. Praise Him who loves and 
watches over you."
The birds all opened their bills, spread their wings, and 
bowed their heads, as if to show they would do what Saint 
Francis said. As he walked among them his tunic brushed 
against them, 
but they
were not afraid. Then, as he went away, they all rose into 
the air and burst into song.
One night, Saint Francis heard a nightingale sweetly 
singing. He went outside.
There was the nightingale sitting on a tree, and pouring out 
its song as if it were the music of heaven.
Saint Francis made up his mind to try to sing praises to 
God longer than the nightingale. He began to 
sing softly,
then he sang more loudly and joyously. Song after song, 
hymn after hymn, he sang. Far into the night his singing 
went on, and so did the nightingale's. At last Saint Francis 
could sing no 
longer, but the bird
still trilled gaily on.
"I give in to you, Sister Nightingale," said Saint Francis in 
a husky voice. " You can praise your Maker longer than I 
can."

TWO LITTLE DUTCH SISTERS.  (Continued from page 
76.)
Betty had forgotten to leave it open, as Mary had said. She 
had shut it, 
as she always shut her mother's door; and
now all the fronts of the houses looked the same. Susie 
clung to Betty, and 
Betty held the bag of ginger-nuts tightly.
There they stood in the street - lost! Then the rowdy boys 
saw them, and 
began to make fun of them. The little girls
had stepped right into the middle of the slide, to get out of 
the way of a 
car.
" Look at the hay-seed with wooden clogs on! " shouted 
one of the boys. Two 
others tried to snatch Betty's bag of
ginger-nuts out of her hand. She held fast to it. The boys 
got hold of it; 
they pulled, and Betty pulled. The bag tore
and all the ginger-nuts rolled over the ground. There was a 
wild shout, and 
the crowd of boys scrambled after the
ginger-nuts.
Betty and Susie took to their heels. The tears ran down 
their cheeks. " Oh, 
oh, oh, I want to go to Mother! " sobbed Susie. Betty felt 
that she should comfort her little sister, but she did not 
know what to do or say. She looked this way and that. 
They were now in a square. Four streets led out of it, but 
Betty had no idea which one they had come from.
" Which is Mary's street?" she said to herself. " And if we 
find the street, which
is Mary's door? The ginger-nuts are lost, and we are lost! "
It was too much for Betty. She sat down flop on the 
ground in the snow, and pulled Susie down with her. They 
both sat there crying and calling for their mother.
Before long, a policeman came along.
"What's all this about? " he asked. "Why are you sitting 
there crying? Stand up and tell me where you live."
" At home," said Betty. " We live in the village with 
Mother and Father."
" Oh " said the policeman " and how did you come here?
"In the farmer's wagon."
"And when you got out of the wagon, where did you go?"
" To Mary's, our big sister's."
"Does she live here in the town? Is she married? "
" No, she lives with Miss."
" And what is Miss's other name? " asked the policeman.
Neither of the little girls knew that; and the policeman was 
in a fix.
" How did you come out here at night in the snow? Why 
didn't you stay with Mary and Miss? " he asked.
Then they told him all the sad tale of going to the baker's 
for the ginger-nuts. The policeman had 
one more idea.
" Would you know the baker again?" he asked.
" Yes, " said Betty. " He had a red lump on his nose."
"Oh, I think I know, " said the policeman.
"Come with me, my dears. Now, what's the matter? You've 
lost your wooden shoe? Well, we can't help that now. 
Come, I'll carry you. "
The policeman took them to the shop of the baker with the 
red lump on his nose.
Even from a good way off, Betty knew the shop; and joy 
of joys, there was Mary!
They saw her come out of the shop and the baker with her. 
They looked up and down the street, and seemed 
frightened and anxious.
" Mary! Mary! " called two small voices.
Mary looked and saw her dear little sisters, safe and sound. 
They were worn out and tear-stained, and they had no 
ginger-nuts, and Betty had lost a shoe; but they were back 
again, and no real harm had come to them.
Mary thanked the policeman, and led the little wanderers 
back into the nice warm kitchen. She rubbed their cold feet 
and found big warm stockings of her own to put on them. 
Then the three of them sat by the stove with cups of lovely 
hot milk-cocoa to drink. They were soon quite happy again 
and even laughing.
They laughed more when Mary brought out a second 
twopence-worth of ginger-nuts, and promised Betty a new 
pair of wooden shoes. One thing Betty could not believe, 
no matter how often Mary told her, and that was that Susie 
and she had been away from  the house only a quarter of 
an hour!
-Retold from "Afke's Ten," translated from the Dutch of 
Ninke Van Hichtum by MARIE K. PIDGEON.

THE MOUNTAIN.
Anders and Marta lived in a little Swiss village on the side 
of a mountain. One day a rich man came to stay at their 
house. He had long talks with Father and Mother, and 
often Grandpa and Grandma joined in too. Anders and 
Marta soon found that the rich man was going to buy most 
of the mountain in front of their house, and build a big 
hotel on it for tourists.
" What does an hotel look like? " asked Anders and Marta. 
Father showed 
them pictures of the big blue and yellow
building that the rich man meant to put up on the 
mountain. The children 
were very sorry, and said that they did not
like hotels.
"What will happen to the Christmas-trees? " they asked. 
They meant the fir trees growing on the mountain.
" Oh, the Christmas-trees will have to come down," said 
Father. " You can come and help me to cut 
them, Anders."
" And what will happen to the streams?" asked Anders and 
Marta.
" Oh, the streams will be dammed up. Then they will help 
to make electric light for the hotel, said Father.
" And what will happen to the flowers?" asked the 
children.
"Oh, the tourists will like the flowers," said Father. " They 
will pick big bunches of them to take home. And we shall 
plant some of the flowers in lovely gardens, where the 
tourists can walk about."
After that, Anders and Marta talked a great deal about the 
terrible thing that was going to happen to 
their mountain.
They made up their minds to tell the mountain all about it.
The mountain people were shy, but they had known 
Anders and Marta ever since they were babies. They all 
came fluttering and flying now to meet them - the deer, the 
goats, the hares, the breezes, the birds, the 
Christmas-trees, the
clouds, the flower fairies, the butterflies, the lizards. Even 
the small round pebbles rattled down 
to greet Anders and Marta, as they climbed up the slopes 
to tell the mountain the terrible news.
" We can't do anything about it - we are too small," said 
Anders and Marta.
" We can't do anything - we are too timid," said the deer.
" We are too soft - we melt if you touch us," wept the 
clouds; while the flower fairies, the butterflies, and the 
birds said, " We can't do anything - we are not strong 
enough."
" They will cut us down," said the Christmas-trees. " Then 
what can we do? "
Anders and Marta went back home feeling more sorry then 
ever. Meanwhile, the mountain people all 
began to weep
softly, and by night their tears had formed a great white 
mist, which covered the mountain from top 
to toe, and quite
blotted it out.
When the rich man went outside the next morning, he 
could not believe his eyes. The mountain that he 
was going to
buy for his hotel was gone.
"But where is the mountain?" he cried.
" The fairies have hidden it away," said Anders and Marta. 
They were standing beside him, and 
thinking sadly of the
sorrow of the mountain people.
" The mountain is gone! The mountain is gone! " said the 
rich man. Does it often do this? " he asked.
" Oh yes," said Anders and Marta, for they had often seen 
the mountain weep when it was cold and lonely. Even 
Father, who came out to comfort the rich man, had to own 
that the mountain was sometimes hidden in mist for days 
at a time. " But it will come back," he said.
" But if the mountain vanishes, my hotel will vanish too, 
and what will happen to all my tourists and my lovely 
gardens? " said the rich man.
All day long, the mountain people hid the mountain under 
the mist of their tears. The
rich man paced up and down the village street, waiting for 
it to come back. Evening came, but the mountain had not 
come back. Then the rich man packed his bag and went 
away on the train that ran down the valley.
" He will never come back," said Father; "and there will be 
no hotel."
Hurrah! " shouted Anders and Marta. 
-Retold from "Anders and Marta," by URSULA M. 
WILLIAMS. (Harrap.)

NORA AMONG THE HILLS.
Once there was a little girl who lived in small town among 
the hills. The 
town was in the South Island of New Zealand,
about fifty miles from  the sea. It had a river running 
swiftly along one 
side. The river had wide banks piled with
thousands of round white stones. High hills, covered with 
thick bush, 
stood round the town. There was much gold
buried in these hills, and, because gold is found  in streaks 
called "reefs," the town was called Reefton.

THE POST-OFFICE, WHERE NORA LIVED.

The little girl's name was Nora. She was about seven years 
of age when 
this story begins. Her hair was straight and fair, her eyes 
were blue, and her legs and arms were long and thin.  She 
had a little sister, Fay, and a mother and a father. Fay was 
fair, too, but she had curly hair and rosy cheeks. She was 
such a happy little girl that her friends called her "Smiler."
Nora's home was at the post-office, where her father was 
the postmaster. We 
have a picture of the post-office. You
will see in the middle of the picture the door into the 
office, through 
which the people went to get their letters. On the
left of the door are the rooms where the family lived. The 
windows next the 
door are those of the dining-room.
Nora and Fay often stood on stools in the evening and 
looked through these 
Windows to see the coaches with the mails come up from 
Westport. A coach came every day either from Westport or 
Greymouth. Reefton was about half-way between these 
two towns, which were both by the sea. Can you 
understand this map?
The coaches always drove to the post-office first, and Nora 
liked to see the 
four splendid horses and the big red
coach, heaped with boxes and people, dash up to the door 
just outside their 
windows. Andy, the coachman, who knew them well, 
often waved his whip at them and called out, " Here we are 
again."
On fine days, Mary, who helped Mother with the work, 
would take Nora and 
Fay down the Buller Road for a walk.
They would sit on a log and wait for the coach. In autumn 
they could pick  blackberries while they waited. If there 
were only a few people on the coach, the driver would pull 
up his horses 
and take Mary and Nora and Fay all up in
front, and drive them with the mails to the post-office.
The coach had two box seats one above the other, and 
Nora liked to sit on 
the top box safely wedged in between the
people. It made her feel very high and proud. The horses 
looked almost 
small below her, and the harness made a
pleasant jingle which sounded like little bells.
As they drove along, the coachman blew a bugle to tell the 
people all along 
the road that the coach was coming. Nora
once tried to blow the bugle herself, but Andy laughed 
because, though she 
blew so hard that her face went red, she could not get a 
sound out of the bugle. Andy sometimes let Nora stand 
between his knees and hold the big heavy reins that guided 
the horses. That was grand fun.
-From "Nora among the Hills," by E. N.  SAMPSON. 
(With kind permission.)

THE BUNNY WHO SAT.
Bunny Hardback sat and sat and sat. He could not do 
anything else; he was made that way.
Bunny Hardback was not all soft fur and trembly nose, like 
the bunnies that played in the field over the road. True, - 
he had bright eyes, and long ears, and a white bob of a tail; 
but he was made of heavy concrete, and he was hollow 
inside. He was, in fact, just the sort of bunny to sit week 
after week on a garden bed in the rain and the sun.
He first came one spring, and sat beside a clump of 
Michaelmas Daisies. The daisies grew and grew, and 
Bunny Hardback sat and sat. After some months you could 
hardly see him -at all, for he was almost lost in a forest of 
daisies.
Then the daisies faded and died. Their stalks turned brown, 
and, when at last they broke off at the roots, there was 
Bunny Hardback still sitting.
The cold winds began to blow, but he did not mind. There 
was still plenty to look at with his round 
black eyes. The heavy
rains came and splashed mud on him. Then the gentle rains 
came and washed him clean again. Next came 
the snow and  covered
him up. All that could be seen of him were the tips of his 
long ears sticking out of the white 
blanket. A bird came and perched on
his ears, holding tight with his little tickly claws. But he 
did not know that the ears belonged to 
Bunny Hardback - how could he?
And Bunny Hardback did not tell him. He only chuckled 
under the snow.
Slowly the snow melted away, and the earth looked dark 
again. Bunny Hardback still sat; but he was a little worried 
now.
" Well," he said to himself, " here I sit. Things will be 
starting to sprout soon, and I don't do anything. I don't 
seem to be of much use. It's not much of a job - just 
sitting!" And, if his ears had not been made of 
concrete, they would surely
have drooped.
Then one night there came a frost. Such a frost it was! The 
earth became as hard as iron, and the few 
leaves that had
not fallen off in the autumn grew limp and black. The frost 
lasted for twenty days, but Bunny Hardback did not mind 
that. Cold was nothing to him; he was made that way. He, 
however, still worried too much to enjoy his 
new coat of
sparkling frost, which covered him from the tips of his ears 
to his bob of a tail.
" Yes," he said to himself, " it's very lovely. But I don't do 
anything towards it. I just sit."
The frost ended at last, and everything was dead and black. 
Then something happened. Bunny Hardback 
was moved
from the spot where he had sat so long, and - what do you 
think?
A lovely little new green plant, unhurt by the frost, had all 
this time been growing up in Bunny Hardback's hollow 
inside. It
was as if it were under a turned-up flowerpot, and Bunny 
Hardback was the flower-pot. Now its little 
leaves were all
ready to uncurl in the light. It was the only live green thing 
in the whole frost-bitten garden.
" Well! " said Bunny Hardback to himself. "Would you 
believe it? Here was I being useful all the time, keeping 
that little plant warm, and just because I sat! "'
-NINA K. BRISLEY, in " Child Education." (Evans.) 
(Adapted.)

PENNY'S HOLIDAY.
It was Boxing Day, and a lovely warm day it was! The 
farmer and his wife, and all the men on the farm 
and their wives
and children, were going for a day at the sea-side. Large 
baskets were filled with food, and, when 
the motor bus
stopped at Pear Tree Farm, everyone was ready to jump in.
"Where are they all going? " said Penny. "How funny 
people are, just going off and leaving me to look after 
myself!"
Then Penny had a bright idea. When no one was looking, 
she climbed into the bus
and hid under a seat. " I'm going to have a holiday, too," 
she said to herself.
What a lovely drive it was and what a merry party! 
Nobody saw Penny under the seat. She grew hotter and 
hotter, until she could hardly breathe. Surely they were 
nearly there! Penny did not know the sea was so far away, 
but then, she had never seen the sea.
All at once there was a scream, and the farmer's wife 
jumped up, sending a bag of  buns flying all over the place 
" There's something under my seat!" she cried.
 " No there isn't," said the farmer. "Sit
down, my dear. It was just the bus bumping
over a stone." He made her sit down again.
But it was not the bus bumping. It was
Penny, who had grown so hot and cramped
that she had given a lurch, and pushed up
the farmer's wife's seat.
 All was quiet now, until they came to the
sea-side. Then they all got out of the bus,
and so did Penny! What a surprise she
gave them all!
"Umf! I'm hungry," said Penny. "Let's have, some food."
Well, they could not send her home now, so off they all 
went to the beach, Penny leading the way. Then they sat 
down and had a big meal, and Penny enjoyed her
sandwiches very much. " Better than turnips and skim 
milk," she said. Some of the party went in for a bathe. 
Penny tried to follow them, but she did not find it very 
nice. " I like water to drink," she said, "not to sit in. "
She sat on the beach and enjoyed the view, and quite a 
crowd came round her.
Then a man came and took her photo, and it was in the 
paper the next day.
For it is not very often that a pig goes the for a picnic! 
Penny went home feeling very proud - she had had a 
lovely day.
. -C. E. SUTTON, in the "Oxford Children's Annual." 
(Retold.)


DAVID AND THE CANARY.
[The David in this story is not David Bargery of whom we 
read in our April Journal, but he is just as nice a David. 
Perhaps all Davids are nice!]
Five children were all on a caravan trip with their teacher, 
Miss Quilter, and Mr. Dobble, who drove 
the caravan horse,
Dobbin.
" Look, David," said Miss Quilter, " here are some cake 
crumbs. See if the birds would like them."
David took the crumbs and began throwing them out of the 
caravan window. He threw only a few at a 
time, and soon
the birds came flying from the trees, and began hopping 
along the road after the caravan, and pecking 
up the crumbs.
There were a lot of sparrows, and a thrush, some starlings, 
and a blackbird.
All at once, a bright yellow bird came flying out from the 
side of the road. It tried to get some of the crumbs. David 
was greatly surprised to see the yellow bird, and he 
watched 
it closely. It was
thin and hungry-looking, and the other birds began chasing 
it away. David was sorry for it. He put 
some crumbs on
the palm of his hand, and held it out towards the yellow 
bird. He made the kind of whistling sound 
that he thought a
yellow bird might understand.
The bird put its head on one side and looked at David with 
its bright little eye. Then it said "Tweet! " It flew up and 
perched on the roof of the caravan just above David's head. 
Then it flew straight down on to his hand.
David felt very excited and proud. The bird walked all 
over his hand on its hard little feet, and ate 
up every crumb. After
that it said " Tweet! " very loudly, and hopped up David's 
arm and sat on his shoulder.
" I say!" said David, slowly turning round. " Look at me!"
" Why, David," said Miss Quilter, " that's a canary! It must 
belong to someone. I suppose it has got 
out of its cage,
and it feels more at home with us than out in the bush.
"Well," said David, "I found it, and I'm going to keep it. 
Don't you think it's taken a fancy to me? I'll call it Bill."
So Bill stayed in the caravan with David; and David gave 
him a lump of sugar and a little water in a 
bowl. Bill pecked
at the sugar and took a long drink of water. Then he flew 
about the caravan, peeping into everything; 
and at last he
perched himself again on David's shoulder and said " 
Tweet!" right in David's ear.
"Look what a fancy he's taken to me!" said David. " He's 
very fond of me, isn't he? "
Just as David said this, there was a loud " Toot! Toot! " 
and a big car came round the corner. It 
drove slowly past the
caravan and then stopped. A lady, with a small cage in her 
hand, stepped out and came along to the 
caravan.
" Good morning, everyone! " she said. "Please excuse my 
stopping you like this, but I wonder if you've seen a 
canary! He's been lost for 
three days, and we
think he must be in this piece of bush."
" How strange! " said Miss Quilter. " A canary flew into 
our caravan about twenty minutes ago. Come 
in and see him.
He must be yours."
The lady said at once that Bill was hers. She put him in the 
cage, said, " Thank you so much," and 
drove off in the
car.
David stood staring out of the caravan window. He was 
very sad at losing Bill. Then Mr. Dobble called out, " 
David, would you like to hold the reins? " And David went 
up into the driver's seat beside Mr. Dobble. They went on 
for some time, until all at once Miss Quilter said in a 
whisper, "David! David! Look! "
Everyone looked; and there, perched on the window-sill, 
looking very happy and saying " Tweet' " 
louder than ever,
was Bill, the canary!
"Oh! " said David, climbing down from his seat with his 
eyes shining. " Oh, he's come back! I knew 
he liked me
best! I knew he'd taken a fancy to me! Oh, Bill! "
And, indeed, it seemed as if David was right, for Bill flew 
straight over to him and sat on his 
shoulder. David's face
beamed. " Now we can keep him for ever," he said.
" But you know," said Miss Quilter, " the lady may come 
back for him."
" Well, anyway," said David, " he's taken a fancy to me, 
and he's come straight back to me - anyway. "
In a very little while they heard a " Toot ! Toot! " and the 
same big car came along again. As it 
passed, the lady
leaned out. "What do you think?" she called out. " I've lost 
the canary again! I was putting him into his big cage, and 
he got away. I suppose you haven't seen him this time, 
have you?"
" Well," said Miss Quilter, "as a matter of fact, he's here."
" What, again? " cried the lady, and she came into the 
caravan with the cage in her hand. There she 
saw Bill sitting
on David's shoulder. " Oh! " she said. " My little bird 
seems to like you, doesn't he? "
" Oh, please," said David, twisting his hands together, " 
oh, please, let me keep him. He came 
straight back to me,
and really he loves me best. I'll save up all my pennies and 
buy him a bigger cage. I'll buy him a 
huge cage, a great,
big, huge cage - a great, big, huge, enormous cage - if 
you'll let me keep him. "
"Oh!"  said the lady, and then she laughed. "All right," she 
said. "Perhaps he does like you best. 
You keep him.
You'd better take this small cage now, and buy him a nice 
big one when you get home. Good-bye, then, 
everyone!
Good-bye!" She hurried away.
Then David put the cage on the table, and Bill flew down 
on to the table and hopped into the cage.
"Most likely Bill was born in a cage," said Miss Quilter, " 
and he feels much safer there than out in 
the bush. But we
must buy him a much bigger one."
"I'll save every penny," said David.
"Tweet! Tweet! Tweet ! " said Bill.
-Adapted from the "The Caravan Children," by LUCY W. 
BELLHOUSE. (Harrap. 
Publisher's price, 1s.)


A Pennyworth of Plaster
Cherry was six years old, and she had a lovely baby doll 
nearly as big as 
herself. His name was Baby Bunting, and
he was made of pink china. If his legs were bent just right, 
he could sit 
up in his bath. Cherry used to put the sponge
in his little pink hands, and pretend to make him wash his 
own face.
One day a dreadful thing happened. Baby Bunting fell over 
in his bath, and 
banged his head on the side of it. When
Cherry picked him up, there was a great crack all the way 
down the back of 
his poor, dear, little pink head.
As Cherry was a wise little girl, she did not sit down and 
cry. Instead, 
she wrapped Baby Bunting in a warm towel and
laid him in his cot. Then she went to her money-box, and 
took out the 
one-pound note that Daddy had given her for
her last birthday.
After kissing Baby Bunting, she ran out with the pound 
note clutched 
tightly in her hand.
She went straight to the shop of Mr. Cough Cure, the 
chemist. "Please, 
Mr. Cough Cure," said Cherry, " my Baby
Bunting has cracked his head, and I want a penny-worth of 
sticking-plaster to patch it."
"Dear, dear! " said Mr. Cough Cure, and he put a little box 
of 
sticking-plaster on the counter. Cherry handed him the
pound note; but then he shook his head, put the plaster 
away, and said, "You will have to get change, my dear. It's 
much too early in the morning for me to be able to change 
a pound note."
Cherry ran out of the shop, still holding the pound note 
tightly. She 
went up the street to Mr. Nutmeg, the grocer's. "Please, 
Mr. Nutmeg," she said, "could you change this pound 
note? I want 
to buy a pennyworth of sticking-plaster
to mend a dreadful crack in poor Baby Bunting's head."
Mr. Nutmeg shook his head. He looked over his glasses, 
and said sadly, "I 
can give you another pound note for it, if
that will do, my dear, but I have no change. "
Cherry then ran farther along the street to Mrs. Rosy 
Apple's fruit-shop. 
She asked Mrs. Rosy Apple if she would be
kind enough to change a pound note for her. "Ah, no! " 
said Mrs. Rosy 
Apple, " I have no change. I hid all my money under the 
bed last night, and no one has spent any money here this 
morning yet."
With her pound note still clutched tightly in her hand, 
Cherry ran out of 
the shop. She next tried the fish-man, Mr.
Cod. "Please, Mr. Cod," she said, "can you change this 
one-pound note? I 
want to buy a penny-worth of sticking-plaster to mend a 
terrible crack in poor Baby Bunting's pink head. "
Mr. Cod shook his head. "It's a sad tale," he said; " but 
they sent me a 
whale, instead of a groper, this morning, and it
took every penny I had to pay for it. "
Cherry next tried the butcher, Mr. Lambchop; but he said 
in a very loud, 
angry voice. "Certainly not! I'm cross this
morning. You run away and play."
Then Cherry went a little higher up the street, and all at 
once she saw on 
a window there, the letters, B-A-N-K. She
knew that they spelt bank, and that there is always lots of 
money in a 
bank. In she went, and right up to the high
counter.
As soon as she handed Mr. Pounds-shillings-and-pence the 
pound note, he 
knew just what she wanted. He counted
into her hand four half-crowns, four shillings, ten 
sixpences, three 
threepences, and three pennies.
Cherry ran out of the bank, and past the shops of Mr. 
Lamb-chop, the 
butcher, Mr. Cod, the fish-man, Mrs. Rosy Apple, the 
fruit-seller, and Mr. Nutmeg, 
the grocer. Then in she went again to Mr.
Cough Cure, the chemist.
She took one penny out of her handful of change, and gave 
it to Mr. Cough 
Cure.
He put the little box of sticking-plaster on the counter 
again. Cherry ran 
out of the shop, with the sticking-plaster in
one hand, and the four half-crowns, four shillings, ten 
sixpences, three 
threepences, and two pennies in the other
hand.
When she got home, she popped all her change in her 
money-box, and then 
she patched the crack in poor Baby Bunting's head. Of 
course, she could not wash his dear little head any 
more, for fear of washing off the penny-worth of
sticking-plaster she had had such trouble to get.
-Adapted from the story by CONSTANCE HEWARD in 
"Cinderella's Story 
Stall." (Collins Clear-type Press.)

MRS. POPPYS FRIENDS.
Mrs. Poppy's cottage was the brightest and cleanest in the 
whole village. 
It had a little white gate with "Rose Cottage"
written on it, and a pretty garden with a gravel path going 
up to the 
front door.
If you knocked on the shiny brass knocker Mrs. Poppy 
opened the door. She 
was a tiny old lady, with white hair and
a pink and white face and she always wore a very fresh, 
clean frock. Mrs. 
Poppy had lived in Rose Cottage for years
and years; and Mrs. Poppy lived there all alone. She had 
no soft, purring 
cat to lie on her hearth-rug; and she had no
dog to bark at the strangers that came to her door.
Her friends used to say, " Why don't you have a cat or a 
dog to keep you company, Mrs. Poppy? "
Mrs. Poppy always said, " What! Do you think I would 
have a cat that would leave its hairs all over 
my hearth-rug? Or
a dog that would run all over my garden and leave its 
bones all over my house ! No thank you! "
So Mrs. Poppy went on living all alone in her bright, 
gleaming house and her neat, tidy garden.
Then, one night, the wind howled round Rose Cottage, and 
the rain streamed down the window panes. 
Mrs. Poppy heard a noise at the door. First it was a little 
scratch; then it was a tiny meow, meow !
" Good gracious!" said Mrs. Poppy. "I wonder what it is ?" 
She opened the door, and there stood the 
wettest little
black kitten she had ever seen.
 " Deary me! " said Mrs. Poppy. She
felt very sorry for the wet kitten. She forgot about her 
clean house, and she picked
up the kitten and carried it inside. Then she
laid it on the hearth-rug in front of the fire,
and gave it a saucer of milk.. The kitten stretched itself and 
shook its wet fur all
over Mrs. Poppy's kitchen; and Mrs. Poppy
did not mind at all!
After the kitten had lapped up all the milk, it began to purr. 
Then it rubbed up against Mrs. Poppy's 
legs to thank her.
At last it curled itself up on the rug and went fast asleep.
Mrs. Poppy did not once think of sending it away. She 
forgot all about hairs on the hearth-rug. 
She let it sleep on
the hearth-rug and play all over the house. And she called 
it Sooty.
Her friends used to say to her, "Well, Mrs. Poppy, now 
that you have a cat, perhaps some day you will 
have a dog. "
SOOTY.
"Perhaps, perhaps," was all Mrs. Poppy would say.
One day,  Mrs. Poppy was going for some milk. As she 
walked along, she heard a great cluttering and clanking. 
Round a bend in the road, came a white puppy with a can 
tied to its tail. After him ran three big boys who were 
laughing at him. Mrs.
Poppy waved her umbrella and shouted to the boys to stop. 
When they saw her they ran away.
The little white puppy stopped. Then he went up to Mrs. 
Poppy and looked up into her face. His tail 
tried to wag to
say, "Thank you," but the can tied to it was so nasty and so 
noisy! Mrs. Poppy untied the can and 
patted the puppy.
Then she went to get her milk. The puppy went too. He 
followed her all the way to Mrs. Brown's dairy.
"Ah," said Mrs. Brown, so you've got a dog at last, Mrs. 
Poppy. You will like having a dog to keep 
you company,
I'm sure. "
Mrs. Poppy was going to say that it was not her puppy. 
Then she thought, " Yes, a puppy would be 
company for me;
and perhaps Sooty would like a puppy to play with. "
The white puppy padded along behind her all the way back 
to Rose Cottage. He walked up the path, and 
did not run
all over the garden. Then Sooty saw him. Sooty looked
at Mrs. Poppy, and Mrs. Poppy said, " Shall we keep the 
puppy, Sooty?"
 Sooty looked at the puppy, who  wagged his tail very hard 
as if to say, " Please,
please keep me, Mrs. Poppy." Sooty walked
all round the puppy, and then began to purr.
Then Mrs. Poppy knew that Sooty wanted the puppy to 
stay.
Mrs. Poppy filled a saucer of milk for Sooty, and then she 
found a bone for the puppy. He wagged his 
stumpy tail so
hard that Mrs. Poppy thought it would be shaken off. Then 
he picked up the bone and began to gnaw at 
it. Mrs.
Poppy was very pleased, and she kept the white puppy, 
and called him Bimbo.
BIMBO.
 Now, when her friends knock on the bright
brass knocker, Mrs. Poppy opens the door;
but she does not come to the door alone.
On one side of her is a fat black cat called Sooty,  that 
purrs all day long. Peeping from behind her on the other 
side is a white puppy, called Bimbo, who wags his tail at
everyone except real strangers.
-Retold from " Mrs. Puddlejohn's Companions," by R. 
JEFFREYS, in "Child Education." (Evans.)
 

DR. DOLITTLE.
Once upon a time there was a doctor; and his name was 
John Dolittle, M.D. " M.D." means that he was a 
proper
doctor, and knew a great deal. Whenever he walked down 
the street in his high hat, every one would 
say, " There
goes the Doctor; he's a clever man!" The dogs and the 
children would all run up and follow him. Even 
the crows that
lived in the church-tower would caw and nod their heads.
The Doctor's house was small, but his garden was very 
large. His sister, Sarah Dolittle, kept house for him, and he
looked after the garden himself. He was very fond of 
animals and kept many kinds of pets. Besides the 
gold-fish in
the pond, he had rabbits in the pantry, white mice in his 
piano, a squirrel in the linen-press, and a 
hedgehog in the
cellar. He had a cow with a calf, too, an old lame horse, 
chickens, pigeons, two lambs, and many 
other animals. The
pets he liked best were Dab-Dab, the duck; Jip, the dog; 
Gub-Gub, the baby pig; Polly, the parrot; 
and Too-Too, the owl.
His sister used to grumble about all these animals, and say 
they made the house untidy. One day an 
old lady with a
pain in her back came to see the Doctor. She sat on the 
hedgehog, which was sleeping on the sofa; and she never 
came to see Doctor Dolittle again! Indeed, she drove ten 
miles every Saturday to see another doctor.
 Then the Doctor's sister said, " John, do you think sick 
people will come to you, when you keep all 
these animals in
the house? It's a fine doctor that would have his parlour 
full of hedgehogs and mice! That's the 
fourth person these
animals have driven away. We are growing poorer every 
day. If you go on like this, none of the best 
people will have you for a doctor."
" But I like animals better than the ' best people '," said the 
Doctor.
"You are silly," said his sister, and walked out of the room.
As time went on, the Doctor got more and more animals; 
and fewer and fewer sick people came to him. 
At last the
only one that came was the Cat's-meat Man, who did not 
mind animals. He was not very rich, and he was sick only 
once a year - at Christmas. Then he used to give the Doctor 
sixpence for a bottle of 
medicine.
Sixpence a year was not enough to live on. If the Doctor 
had not had some money saved up in his 
money-box, no one
knows what would have happened. He kept on getting 
more and more pets; and, of course, it cost a 
great deal to feed
them. The money he had saved up grew less and less.
Then the Doctor sold his piano, and let the mice live in a 
drawer. When the piano money had all gone, 
he sold his
Sunday suit, and went on growing poorer and poorer. The 
people used to say, " There goes Doctor 
Dolittle. He hasn't
any money now, and his socks are full of holes! The dogs 
and the cats and the children still followed him, however, 
as they had done when he was rich.
The Doctor made up his mind to give up being a people's 
doctor, and become an animals' doctor. Polly, 
the parrot,
taught him how to talk to animals, and how to know what 
they said. Soon the old ladies began to bring 
him their pet.
pugs and poodles that had eaten too much cake; and 
farmers brought their sick cows and sheep. As soon 
as the
animals found out that the Doctor knew what they said, 
they told him where the pain was, and how they 
felt. It was
easy then for him to cure them.

In a short time, the Doctor's big garden was nearly always 
crowded with 
sick animals waiting to see him. He had to
have a door for each kind of animal. Over the front door, 
he wrote, 
"Horses"; over the side door, " Cows "; over the
back door,
"Sheep ". Even the mice had a tiny tunnel made for them 
into the cellar. 
There they waited in rows for the Doctor to
come round to them.
Some of the animals were so ill that they had to stay at the 
Doctor's 
house for a week. When they were getting
better, they used to sit in chairs on the lawn. They liked the 
Doctor and 
his house so much that often, after they were quite better, 
they did not want to go away. He was so kind that he let 
them stay, and so he went on getting more and
more pets.
Doctor Dolittle became known among the animals all over 
the world. He was 
very happy and liked his work very
much. He began to make money again, too; and his sister, 
Sarah, bought a 
new dress and was very happy.
-Retold from " Doctor Dolittle," by HUGH LOFTING. 
(Jonathan Cape.)


THE BUSH FIRE.
Summer in Reefton was always very hot. The hills round 
the little town 
kept the cool breezes away. One summer was
hotter even than usual. Bush fires made it worse.
One Saturday evening there were fires all round the hills. 
They spread 
closer and closer, until there seemed to be a
ring of fire all round the town. Everyone hoped that rain 
would come to 
put out the fires.
Nora got undressed that night without any light except the 
glare from the 
bush fires. She heard Daddy say to Mother
in the next room, " You will have to go away if the rain 
does not come 
soon. " Oh, how hot it was in bed! Nora could
not go to sleep.
The next day was hotter still. The smoke made people's 
eyes sting. Ashes were falling on the roofs 
and gardens. The
sunlight was a funny yellow colour. Mother had to lie 
down all day, and Mary was very cross. Even 
Daddy seemed
worried. In the evening they all went to church, and 
afterwards Granny and Grandfather and other 
people came and
sat in the garden. They talked about fires and drank 
lemonade and ate shortbread.
When Nora went to bed, she watched the fires burning in 
the big trees on the hill. Sometimes a tree would fall over, 
and crowds of sparks and big sheets of flame would fly 
out. The sky was very black, but Daddy said he was afraid 
there was more smoke than rain in the clouds. Mother and 
Nora and Fay were going in the coach to 
Westport next morning. Mother said she could not bear the 
heat and smoke any longer.
In the early morning, however, there was a pat, pat on the 
roof. Nora sat up and listened. Yes, it 
was rain. She woke
Fay and told her. Fay said, " What a pity, now we shan't go 
in the coach. I wish you had not told 
me." Daddy and
Mother also woke, and Mother said, "What a relief! I can 
feel it cooler already."
Daddy said as a joke, " Hurrah, now I won't have to spend 
all that money sending you all to Westport!"
The rain was steady all the next day, and the fires were put 
out. But oh, how black and ugly were the 
once lovely
green hills! The splendid trees were black stumps, some 
standing, but many lying where they had 
fallen. All the ferns
were burnt. Birds flew about making shrill noises as if to 
say, "Where are our lovely hiding places?"
Nora said, " I like a green frame round Reefton better than 
a black one."
Daddy said, " You will be surprised how soon the green 
begins to come again." And, indeed, in a few 
weeks Nora
noticed green patches on the black hill-sides. But most of 
the big trees she loved so much were dead, 
and the bush
was never so pretty again.
-From " Nora among the Hills," by E. N. SAMPSON.

THE ROBBER BARON
Once upon a time a robber baron lived in a tower on a hill. 
The tower had a moat, and a drawbridge, 
and a heavy gate
with strong bolts and bars. It had also a pipe for pouring 
hot molten lead on
anyone that tried to get in. The tower looked so strong and 
terrible that no one ever dared to go near it.
Every morning the baron used to hang a long sword from 
one side of his belt, and a  huge dagger from the other. He 
next stuck a pair of pistols into the tops of his boots, 
mounted his 
horse, and rode
over the drawbridge and down to the crossroads.
One day a  rich man came driving by. A very unhappy man 
he was, because he was always afraid of his 
money being
stolen from him. He took his money-bags with him 
wherever he went. Well, this day the baron was 
waiting for him.
 " Halt! " shouted the robber baron pointing one of the 
great pistols.
"Help! Help! " screamed the rich man.
"Pray, do not be afraid, " said the robber baron. " I only 
want your money-bags."
"Oh, good robber, don't take my money," cried the rich 
man. "I have spent 
all my life getting it, and I lie awake
every night, fearing I may lose it. "
"You should thank me for taking it," said the baron. "Now 
you will have 
nothing to worry about. You will be able to
sleep at night and be happy." With that he lifted the bags 
of gold out of 
the coach, and dropped them into the tops of
his boots.
The next to come by was a very proud lady in her coach. 
She was nursing her 
poodle and kissing its snub nose.
" What ho! " cried the baron. " Halt!" and he pointed his 
pistols.
" Horrible creature! " screamed the lady. "What do you 
want?"
" Only one or two things you would be better without," 
said the baron with 
a bow. " First, there is your poodle. If you
must pet something, there are many poor children more in 
need of being 
loved and cared for than a dog. Next, there
are your two footmen sitting for show on the back of your 
coach. Big strong 
men like them might be digging some
potato patch." The robber baron then looked at his pistols 
with such a 
fierce frown that the lady pushed the poodle out
of the coach, and the footmen jumped down and stood 
shaking in the road.
" I wish you good day, madam," said the baron. 
"Coachman, drive on." He
then gave the surprised footmen ten gold pieces each, and 
told them to go 
and find some useful work. The poodle, he
gave to a little girl, who was crying because she had lost 
her only toy.
That was the kind of thing the robber baron was always 
doing, and 
everybody said that he must be stopped.
" Why doesn't somebody catch him?" asked the mayor's 
old grandmother.
" He carries such huge pistols," said one man.
" Has he ever shot anyone with them?" asked the old lady.
" Well-no-not yet-but-"
"I thought as much," said the old lady; "and has he ever 
used his sword?"
"I don't think he has, but-"
"I thought that, too, " she said. " I have a good mind to go 
and catch that robber baron myself." And, in spite of all 
the people said, off she started for the crossroads. There on 
his horse sat the robber baron.
" Halt! " he cried, pointing his pistols at her.
" Why should I halt? " asked she. " I don't believe your 
pistols are loaded."
" Gadzooks, you are right! " gasped the baron. " If they 
were loaded, 
they might go off and hurt somebody. But aren't
you afraid of my sword and my dagger?"
" Not in the least, " said the mayor's grandmother. " The 
one is far too big for you to use, and 
the other, very likely,
has no edge. "
" Ods bodikins! that's true, too," said the baron. " But 
aren't you afraid that I may carry you off 
to my tower, and bolt
and bar you in, and perhaps pour boiling lead on you, or 
throw you into the moat? "
" Not a bit, " she said. " I don't suppose that the moat is 
deep enough to drown a kitten, or that 
you have any lead to
boil. I expect, too, that all your bars and bolts are too rusty 
to move. "
The robber baron could only stare in surprise.
"I thought as much," said the old lady. "How silly people 
are to be taken in by you! But, young man, it is very wrong 
of you to frighten them and rob them."
"I take only the things they are better without," said the 
baron. " I hate to see people wasteful 
and stupid, and I try to
set them right. "
 "Well, my dear baron," she said, "you
can't set things right by doing wrong. I think I'll come and 
live with you, and see
if I can't make something useful out of you."
And off she rode behind the baron on his horse to the 
tower. She set to work at once and had the 
cobwebs swept
down, and the, windows cleaned. She kept ducks in the 
moat, and mended the baron's socks, and praised or 
scolded him as he needed.
The baron frightened and robbed people no more. He gave 
his sword and pistols to the museum, and made 
his dagger
into a bread-knife. He turned his land into a park with 
swings and see-saws and cricket pitches for 
everybody. He
spent his time in trying to cure people's troubles, and, 
besides setting people right, he made them happy.
"I said he was a fine young man," said the mayor's 
grandmother, nodding her head; "and I was right; I always 
am."
-Adapted from the story by MARGARET BAKER in "The 
Oxford Annual for Children."

THE TOYS ON THE TREE.
"I hope," said the Teddy Bear, "that Peterkin is a nice, kind 
little boy, and that he doesn't bite 
noses." It was
Christmas Eve, and the toys on the Christmas Tree were 
waiting for the morning, when Peterkin would 
come to see
them.
"His mother is a very nice lady," said a fat grey elephant, 
who was hanging close to the Teddy Bear. 
" She tied me on
to the tree with a string round my waist. In the shop, I was 
hung up by a string tied to my trunk, and it was so sore. "
"Well, I hope Peterkin is like his mother," said the Teddy 
Bear, "because I have heard of little boys that bite their 
Teddy Bear's nose, and suck his ears. You know it is nasty 
having your ears
sucked! "
Just then, the animals in the Noah's ark, which was 
hanging on the other side of the tree, all began 
to sing - 
We ought to be taken out two by two; But goodness knows 
what Peter will do! After all the money we 
cost, It would
be sad if we all got lost; For we'll all go marching On 
Peterkin's Christmas Day!
They had no sooner finished singing than a box of soldiers 
began to make a great fuss. The captain jumped up on to 
the lid of the box, and, waving his sword, cried, "Quick
 march!" The soldiers  then all marched along  the 
branches of the tree  to the Noah's ark, and the 
captain tapped on
the lid with his sword. The lid opened at once, and the 
giraffe put his head out. "Hallo! " he said. "What do you 
mean by saying that you are all going marching? " asked 
the captain. "Don't you know that only soldiers march?"
Then, without any more ado, he ordered the soldiers to fire 
on the Noah's ark. It was very terrible. 
The soldiers had a
cannon, and what with the cannon and the cries of the 
animals, the noise was dreadful. Luckily it was a very 
strong Noah's ark, and none of the cannon 
balls or shot
from the guns had, so far, smashed it. Still, they would 
soon have done so if something had not 
stopped them.
It was the elephant that did it. He galloped across the tree 
to the field of battle, and, with one 
swish of his trunk, he
swept cannon, soldiers, and all right off the tree. Then he 
went over to their box and knocked that 
off , too.
"Really," he said to the Teddy Bear, when he got back, " 
these soldiers do give themselves airs. 
Just as if nobody
but them can march! They ought to see elephants marching 
in India, and camels marching over the 
deserts in Africa!"
"Yes," said the Teddy Bear, "and the bears marching up 
and down their cages at the zoo."
" There you are! " said the elephant.
"It's silly to say that animals have nothing to do with 
marching. But I don't suppose these soldiers have ever 
been to 
India or Africa, or even to the zoo. They
only cost three and ninepence. I saw it on the box."
By this time the animals in the Noah's ark had quite got 
over their fright, 
and were feeling jolly again. Once more they
began to sing
We're going out marching two by two, I don't see why we 
shouldn't, do you?
The Teddy Bear yawned. " Oh dear!" he said. " I'm so 
tired. This Christmas 
Eve is a long business, isn't it?"
" Yes," said the elephant, " but, still, I'm looking forward 
to seeing 
Peterkin. You can't think how much I have wanted
to belong to somebody!"
"I know," said the Teddy Bear. " I'm just the same. 
Nobody cares about you 
in the shops. Good night."
The fallen soldiers on the floor began to sing softly
Though we didn't cost more than three and nine, And were 
really only a very 
cheap line, Still we are made of the very
best tin, And we are ready to fight until we win.
"You see, they are still patting themselves on the back," 
said the elephant, 
sleepily, to the Teddy Bear. But the Teddy Bear was fast 
asleep.
Next morning Peterkin came in with his mother.
"Oh, Mother, look at the soldiers," he said.
" What a shame! " she said. " The box must have fallen off 
the tree."
-PHILIP HUGH, in "The Merry-go-Round." Adapted.





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