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Read Ebook: The Nursery March 1873 Vol. XIII. A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers by Various
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Ebook has 202 lines and 10947 words, and 5 pages
THE NURSERY
FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
BOSTON: JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET. 1873.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,
BY JOHN L. SHOREY,
BOSTON: RAND, AVERY, & CO., STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS.
IN PROSE.
PAGE. The Pigeons and their Friend 65
The Obedient Chickens 69
John Ray's Performing Dogs 71
Ellen's Cure for Sadness 75
Kitty and the Bee 78
Little Mischief 82
How the Wind fills the Sails 85
Ida's Mouse 88
Almost Lost 91
Little May 93
An Important Disclosure 95
IN VERSE.
Rowdy-Dowdy 67
The Sliders 74
Mr. Prim 77
Minding Baby 80
Deeds, not Words 84
Molly to her Dolly 87
Timothy Tippens 96
THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.
A TRUE STORY.
HEN I was in Boston about a year ago, I stopped one day at the corner of Washington Street and Franklin Street to witness a pretty sight.
Here, just as you turn into Franklin Street, on the right, a poor peddler used to stand with a few baskets of oranges or apples or peanuts, which he offered for sale to the passers-by.
The street-pigeons had found in him a good friend; for he used to feed them with bits of peanuts, crumbs of bread, and seed: and every day, at a certain hour, they would fly down to get their food.
On the day when I stopped to see them, the sun shone, and the street was crowded; and many people stopped, like myself, to see the pretty sight.
The pigeons did not seem to be at all disturbed or frightened by the noise of carriages or the press of people; but would fly down, and light on the peddler's wrist, and peck the food from the palm of his hand.
He had made them so tame, that they would often light on his shoulders or on his head; and, if he put food in his mouth, they would try to get it even from between his teeth.
The children would flock round to see him; and even the busy newsboy would pause, and forget the newspapers under his arm, while he watched these interviews between the birds and their good friend.
A year afterwards I was in Boston again; but the poor peddler and his birds were not to be seen. All Franklin Street, and much of the eastern side of Washington Street, were in ruins. There had been a great fire in Boston,--the largest that was ever known there; and more than fifty acres, crowded with buildings, had been made desolate, so that nothing but smoking ruins was left. This was in November, 1872.
I do not know where the poor peddler has gone; but I hope that his little friends, the pigeons, have found him out, and that they still fly down to bid him good-day, and take their dinner from his open hand.
ALFRED SELWYN.
ROWDY-DOWDY.
ROWDY-DOWDY loves a noise; Cannot play with quiet boys; Cannot play with quiet toys: Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise!
In the street he takes delight,-- In the street from morn till night: Don't I tell the story right, Rowdy-dowdy, noisy sprite?
Rowdy-dowdy's full of fun; Never walks if he can run; Never likes the setting sun: That stops Rowdy-dowdy's fun.
He is full of prankish ways; Never still one moment stays; Boys are fond of boyish plays: These are Dowdy's rowdy days.
Out at elbows, out at toes, Out at knees, the urchin goes: Still he laughs, and still he grows Rowdier, dowdier, I suppose.
Rowdy-dowdy, don't you see, Full of noisy, boys-y glee, Is as sweet as he can be, For the sprite belongs to me!
He is mine to have and hold, Worth his weight in solid gold: Ah! I've not the heart to scold Rowdy-dowdy, brave and bold!
JOSEPHINE POLLARD.
THE OBEDIENT CHICKENS.
WHEN I was a little girl, I had a nice great Shanghai hen given to me. She soon laid a nest full of eggs; and then I let her sit on them, till, to my great joy, she brought out a beautiful brood of chickens.
They were big fellows even at first, and had longer legs and fewer feathers than the other little yellow roly-poly broods that lived in our barn-yard. But, although I could see that they were not quite so pretty as the others, I made great pets of them.
They were a lively, stirring family, and used to go roving all over the farm; but never was there a better behaved, or more thoroughly trained set of children. If a hawk, or even a big robin, went sailing over head, how quickly they scampered, and hid themselves at their mother's note of warning! and how meekly they all trotted roost-ward at the first sound of her brooding-call! I wish all little folks were as ready to go to bed at the right time.
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