^ "O Apple! Come down to me." (See Page 7.) IN THE CHILD'S WORLD MORNING TALKS AND STORIES FOR Kindergartens, Primary Schools and Homes By EMILIE POULSSON Author of "Nursery Finger Plays" Illustrations by l. J. Bridgman SPRINGFIELD, MASS. Milton Bradley Company 1893 ^ 0, \ \ COPYRIGHT 1893. MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY, Springfield, Mass. Vt CLARK W. BRYAN CO., Printers SPRINGFIELD, MASS. The contributors to this volume have been so cordially helpful, that it gives me pleasure to record here my sincere thanks and appreciation. For kind permission to use stories and poems specified elsewhere in the book, grateful acknowledgments are also rendered to the following publishers: — Houghton, Mifflin ife Co.. Boston; The Century Co., Xew York; Youth's Companion, Boston; D. C. Heath & Co., Boston; Henry Holt & Co., Xew York; Harper Brothers, New York; The Kindergarten Pub- lishing Co., Chicago; The Educational Publishing Co., Boston; The Charles Foster Publishing Co.. Philadelphia; The University Publish- ing Co., New York; The Sunday School Association, London. Emilie Poui.sson. CONTENTS. Fruits ^ The Sleeping Apple, From the German. Wait and see, Josephine Jarvis. Birds in Autumn 11 Lisa and the Birds, E. P. The Crane Express, Holmes^ Third Reader. Bird Thoughts. Wood 17 The Logging Camp, Josephine Jarvis. The Honest Woodman, Retold by E. P. The Carpenter 25 Little Deeds of Kindness, E. P. An Old-fashioned Rhyme, E. P. The Clock • 33 What the Clock Told Dolly, Minnie G. Clark. The Discontented Pendulum, Jane Taylor. Autumn '^5 The Baby Buds' Winter Clothes, Josephine Jarvis. An Autumn Song, E. P. The Kind Old Oak, ''Little Flower Folks." The Chestnut Boys, Helen Towne. Seeds . 51 Five Peas in a Pod, Hans Christian Andersen. Psyche's Task, F. H. Apple-Seed John, Lydia Maria Child. The Wind > - 62 How West Wind Helped Dandelion, E. P. The Dandelion Cycle, E. P. Odysseus and the Bag of Winds, F. H. North Wind at Play, From the German, as toldby Harriet Ryan. VIU COXTEN'IS. 9. The Pigeons 73 The Fantail Pigeon, Mary Dendy. Pearl and Her Pigeons, Helen Keller. The Constant Dove, Celia Thaxter. The Dove and the Ant, ^sop. A True Pigeon Story, M. P. 10. The Bakek 82 The Jolinny Cake. The China Rabbit Family, E. P. Teddy's Birthday Cake, E. P. Nero at the Bakery, E. P. 11. Thanksgiving Day 90 A Boston Thanksgiving Story, E. P. How Patty Gave Thanks, E. P. 12. Winter .98 The Thrifty Squirrels, Mary Dendy. Jack Frost and His Work, E. P. 13. The Floweh Basket, or Loving and Giving . . , 106 Little Servants, Sidney Dayre. Extract from the Dream of Little Christel, The Wake Up Story, Eudora Bumstead. The Go Sleep Story, Eudora Bumatead. l\. ClIlilSTMAS 117 Christmas in the Barn, Frances Arnstein. Santa Claus and the Mouse, E. P. The Birds' Christmas, F. E. Mann. Piccola, Celia Thaxter. 1.5. The New Year 131 An AU-the-Year-Round Story, E. P. The Fairy's New Year Gift, E. P. 16. The Cat 140 My Jet, M. V. GilLin. A Kitten Rhyme, E. P. Spotty' s Family, Josephine Jarvis. 17. The Horse 148 A Wise Old Horse, " Nursery Stories.^' Pegasus, F. H. The Horse that Fed His Friend, " St. Nicholas.'' 18. The Cow I.57 The Story the Milk Told Me, Gertrude H. Noye^. CONTENTS. IX The Cow that Lost Her Tail, E. Knatchbull-Hugessen. Lord Cornwallis' Knee-buckles, Holmes^ Third Reader. 19. The Dog 174 How Frisk Came Home, '^Nursery Stories.'^ Cleverness of a Sheep Dog, " Little Folks.^' The Dog and the Kitten. A True Story of a Dog. 20. The Cobbler 181 Goody Two Shoes, Retold by E. P. Seeing Shoes Made, Josephine Jarvis. The Cobbler and the Children, Josephine Jarvis. 21. St. Valentine's Day 191 Philip's Valentine, E. P. 22. Washington's Birthday 197 23. The Blacksmith 201 Nahum Prince, E. E. Hale. Vulcan, the Mighty Smith, F. H. 24. The Miner 209 Suggestions, A Kindergartner. The Golden Touch, E. P. Coal, Helen Keller. 25. Water, I 216 To Whom shall We Give Thanks? Snowflakes, Josephine Jarvis. The Immortal Fountain, Lydia Maria Child. 26. Water, II 227 Stony and Rocky, Annie E. Allen. The Little Hero of Haarlem. Do What You Can. Neptune, F. H. The Brook and the Water Wheel, Charles Foster. 27. Fishes 239 The Minnow's Adventure, E. P. Mr. Stickleback, E. P. 28. Trees 253 The Four Apple Trees, E. P. The Story of Echo, F. H. The Tree, B. Bjornsen. The Maple Tree's Surprise, F. E. Mann. Pussy Willow, Kate L. Broxon. CONTENTS. 29. Spring 263 Spring and Her Helpers, E. P. The Meeting of the Winds, Charles Foster. The Little Worm that was Glad to be Alive, Elizabeth Peabody. A Surprise, Sue Clark Kimball. 30. Friedbich FRffiBEL 276 Song for Frffibel's Birthday, E. P. 31. Birds 282 Jack and Jenny Sparrow, Charles Foster. Little Yellow-wing. Child and Bird, William Allingham. The Sandpipei-s, Josephine Jarvis. 32. Birds' Nests , . . 292 The Scarecrow, Celia Thaxter. The Nest of Many Colors, E. P. The Sparrow's Nest, Mary Howitt. 33. The Butterfly , , , . 302 Some Common Butterflies. A Lesson on Faith, iLirynret Gatty. 34. The Caterpillar . ...» ... . 313 "Such a Beauty," E. P. 3.0. The Farmer ... 321 A Barn-yard Talk, E. P. The Farmer and the Birds, Josephine Jarvis. Little Gustava, Celia Thaxter. 36. The Hen and Chickens ........ 331 The Lost Chicken, E. P. Pe-Wee's Lesson, " Stories for the Kindergarten and the Home." The Story of Speckle, E. P. 37. The Bee, I 3-w The Rhyme of the Little Idle Boy, E. P. Edith and the Bees, Helen Keller. 38. The Bee, II ... 352 A Narrow Escape, Maurice Noel. Solomon and the Bees, J. G. Saxe. Mrs. Flyaway, Ada Cook. 39. FLfsWERS ... • • ■ • 366 What They Did. The Plant Household, E. P CONTENTS. Clytie, F. H. The Indian Legend of the Arbutus, C. E. Belknap. The Little Plant, Kate L. Brown. 40. Summer 379 How the Beans Came Up, F. E. Mann. Mabel on Midsummer Day, Mary Howitt. The Story of a Breeze, Mattie McRoy. 41. Su>si]iXE . 3f>3 The Wind and the Sun, Retold by E. P. The Sunbeams, E. P. The Story of the Morning-glory Seed, Margaret Eytinge. The Water-bloom, Celia Thaxter. 42. The Moon and the Stars 401 Linda and the Lights, E. P. 43. The Weaver 407 A Visit to the Weaver, Josephine Jarvis. John' s Trousers, Josephine Jarvis. 44. Wcoi 41:! How the Little Boy Got a New Shirt, Fromthe German. Translated by Louise Stuart. Molly's Lamb, " Stories for the Kindergarten and the Home.'^ Sequel to an Old Story, E. P. 45. Cotton 420 Machinery Magic, Holmes' Third Reader. Cotton Field Stories, E. P. 4G. Linen 426 The Flax, Hans Chri.'itian Andersen. The Flax Flower, Mary Howitt. 47. Sii.K 434 The Life of a Silk Worm, Nettie Fleming. The Silk Worm, Mary Howitt. The Goddess of the Silk Worm, E. P. PREFACE. The preparation of these talks and stories was first under- taken for the kindergartens of Boston and vicinity. With the talks especially, great freedom in the use of the material offered was always urged as essential to good results, and such freedom is urged more than ever, in submitting the collection to a wider circle of teachers and children. The subjects follow, somewhat, the course of the kindergarten year, but selection must be exercised, since there is often under one subject more than enough for two weeks' work with tlie children. The book is in no wise intended as a one-year programme. Accuracy of fact has been assiduously sought, and in view of the pains taken, and the authorities consulted, is believed to have been obtained. Should errors be found, however, notice of them would be gratefully received. Reading, more or less closely related to the subject, has been suggested in the hope that the lists will prove a convenience to the teacher and tempt her to avail herself of the refreshment and inspiration which poet, philosopher, scientist and story-teller are ready to give. While most of the stories in the book are for children of the kindergarten age, whether at home, in the kindergarten, or in the lower grades of the primary school, a few stories are intended expressly for older children. Stories of nature and child-life, of history and of mythology, have all found place, for, as the best educators tell us, all these kinds are necessary for the symmetrical development of the facu^- VI V PREFACE. ties. Like the talks, the stories are concerning those objects, activities, festivals, etc., whicli belong in the child's world, those with which he is in actual contact or has some relation, and of which he is eager to talk and to hear. Whatever the kind of story, its spirit and influence have been the paramount considerations. " I have indited tliee, with care and love, My little book; and now I send thee forth On a good mission, In sweet homes to be a loving guest. And find a place in many a guileless heart," " Go little book, and to the young and kind Speak thou of pleasant hours and lovely things." Emilik Poulsson. Bogton, Mass., 1893. *' Go, forth, with serious style or jjlayful grace Winning young gentle hearts; and bid them trace With thee the Spirit of Love, through earth and air, On beast and bird, and on our mortal race. Go forth, And greet thou those who love thee, in my name, Tea, greet them warmly ! Little book, adieu!'" FRUITS. To THE Teacher: — Though this talk is more upon the apple tlian upon fruits in oreneral^ it is better, for tlie sake of comparison, tliat the teacher should have, besides apples, a pear, peach, plum and grapes and other fruits, as con- venient. The best illustrative object would be a small branch bearing both fruit and leaves. A colored picture of the apple blossom will also be needed. Let the children first name the fruits as you hold them up one by one. Question regarding the colors. Let some of the children distinguish the fruits by touch alone, following this test with questions upon the- shapes. Contrast the velvety skin of the peach with the smooth skin of the apple and pear. Let other children name the fruits by the sense of smell, and others by the sense of taste, either now or later, during the games, or at lunch time. Take care that each of these exercises is profitable, requiring the child to discriminate by the one sense alone. IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. THE TALK. Where did the fruits come from? (If the children get beyond *' the fruit stand" and give the general answer "from the trees," lead them to notice that each kind of fruit comes from its own kind of tree. ) Do you think it takes the apple tree a long time to get the apples ready? Indeed it does, a long, long time. Some of the older children who were in kindergarten last year may remember the apple blossoms we saw in the springtime. (Show picture of apple blossom.) When the pretty pink and white petals dropped off the stem, there was a tiny, hard, green knob at the end of it, and all the spring and all the summer this little green knob grew and grew and grew. Finally, late in the summer or in autumn, the ap])le was full-grown and ripe. (A series of quick drawings, showing the gradual enlargement of the growing apple, will interest and impress the children, if done in a spirited manner. The first figures of the series could be drawn with green crayon and the later ones with red and yellow, or whatever would best represent the ripe apple which you have shown them.) What helped the tree to make its apples? The earth and the air, the sunshine and the rain, — nothing can grow without them. Of what use are fruits? They are very good to eat and very wholesome when ripe and fresh, or when nicely cooked. Insects, worms and birds make many a delicious feast upon them, and even the larger animals enjoy them, too, sometimes. I was crossing a field the other day, with a lady, when two cows walked straight to her. " Oh, yes ! " said the lady, ''you want some apples, don't you?" Then she explained to me that she had once given these two cows some apples and that they had since come to her every time she crossed the field, evidently' expecting to be treated to fruit. IN" THE CHILD S WORLD. What do you find inside the apple when you eat it? What in the pear? peach? plum? grape? (Let a child cut an apple in halves vertically, and another child cut a second apple horizon- tally, and do the same with two pears.) How many seeds in the apple? in the pear? Are the seeds of any use? Look at the apple seeds. What a shiny brown color they are and how small ! Yet each seed, if planted and cared for rightly, would grow to be a tree some day — a tree with roots and trunk and branches and leaves, and with spring blossoms and autumn fruits. Are they not useful and wonderful, then, these little brown seeds? Would you like to have a baby apple tree growing in the kindergarten? What shall we do, then? (It will be well to plant several, to ensure the desired result.) IN THE CHILD S WORLD. TEACHER'S READING. How Plants Grow, .-..---- Gray Flower and Fruit, - - - - - Jane II. Newell Systematic Science, Edw. G. Howe, in Kindergarten Magazine, May and June, 1891 Apples, ------- George W. Curtii. The Apple ("Winter Sunshine"), - - - ^ Burroughs Forest Trees and Wild Apples, Thoreau, in No. 27 of Riverside Literature Series The Planting of the Apple Tree, - - . - - Bryant The Fruit Gift, .--.-- Whittier Cellar Scene (-'Bitter Sweet"), - _ - J.G.Holland To Autumn, --..-. Keats The Orchard Lands of Long Ago, • James Whitcomb Riley August (" There Were Four Apples on the Bough "), - Sivinburne August, _---..- Edwin Arnold FOR THE CHILDREN. The Nut Gatherers, i -^. , ' ., } • _ .. . Kindergarten Gems The Four Peaches, ) IN Till': CHILD S WOK LI). STORIES. THE SLEP]PING APPLE. {From the German.) High up in a tree, among the green leaves, hung a little apple with such rosy cheeks it looked as though it might be sleeping. A little child came near, and standing under its branches, she looked up and called to the apple: " O apple I come to me: do come down to me ! you do not need to sleep so long." She called so long and begged so hard, but the apple did not waken; it did not move in its bed, but looked as though it was laughing at her in its sleep. Then came the bright sun; high in the heavens he shone. "0 Sun I lovely Sun I" said the child, ''please waken the apple for me." The sun said: " 0, yes ; with pleasure I will.'* So he sent his bright beams straight in the face of the apple and kissed it kindly, but the apple did not move a bit. Then there came a l)ird, and perched upon a bough of the tree and sang a beautiful song, but even that did not waken the sleeping apple. x\nd what comes now! "1 know," said the child, " he will not kiss the apple — and he cannot sing to it, he will try another way." Sure enough, the wind putted out his cheeks and blew and l)le\v, and shook the tree, and the little apple was so frightened tliat it awoke and jumj)ed down from the tree and fell right in the apron of the little child. She was much surprised, and so glad that she said to him, " I thank you very much, Mr. Wind." Lizzie Willis. "Kinderffcu/tn .Var/azine." WAIT AND SEE. A baby beech tree was growing by the side of its mother. It said to her one day, " Mother, I wisli I knew of what use I can be in the world. There is Neighbor Oak who throws down acorns for our master's pigs to eat. Neighbor Birch gives him S IN THE child's WORLD. some .smooth bark to make iiito a boat. Neighbor Spruce gives him gum to pour over tiie joinings of the boat to keep it from leaking, and all the others can help in some way; but what can I do?" '' Wait and see," said the mother tree. So the little tree waited. By and by some pretty flowers shaped like this (showing flowers or a picture of some flowers resembling the blossoms of the beecli) came upon the baby tree. Then the little tree was happy. " Oh I " it said, '' now I see what good I can do. I can please our master by looking pretty." When the blossoms fell off, the poor little tree felt badly. *' mother!" it said, "all my pretty flowers are gone, and now I cannot even look pretty any longer. What shall I do?" "Wait and see," said the mother tree. The little tree thought that waiting was a hard thing to do, but it said to itself, " Mother knows best, so I'll do what she says." After a while some little green prickly things came where the flowers had been. These pleased the little tree as much as the flowers had done, and it was content to wait, and see if they were of any use except to look pretty. Then the little green prickly things all turned brown, and the little beech tree thought they were not pretty any longer. " Oh, dear ! mother," it said, " my little green prickly things have all turned brown, and now I cannot even look })retty any longer. What shall I do?" " Wait and see,'' said the mother tree. So the little tree waited. The autumn had come, and the weather was beginning to be cold in the part of the country where the little beech tree lived. One morning after a heavy frost, the little beech tree found that its little brown prickly things had all fallen. "0 mother!" it said, " there are my little ])rickly tilings on the ground, and now I am sure I shall never be of any use to anybody." " Do not be discouraged yet; wait and see," said the mother tree. Just then the muster's cliildren came along. They had bas- kets in their hands, for they were going to pick up nuts in the woods. As they came under the baby beech, the eldest boy ?toi)ped. " children ! See ! " he cried, " here are the beech IN THE child's WORLD. 9 mits on the ground. Mother likes them better than any other kind of nuts. Let us pick them all up and take them home to her." As the children went away with the nuts, the mother tree said, "Now, my dear, you see what good you can do." "Yes, mother," said the little tree. And ever after it was content, even when it grew to be a big tree — as big as its mother. Josephine Jakvis. Cohden, III. Bh:ds. BIRDS IN AUTUMN. To THE Teachei:: — A closer study of birds and bird-life will be advisable in the spring; when we welcome the little travelers back. By that time the children will be prepared to observe more in detail and will have more power of expression, as well as a <,aeater familiarity with the activities of thy birds through the bird games and linger plays. If there is a kindergarten canary, it would naturally furnish the text foi- this talk; l)ut the migration of the birds and the causes which lead to it sl'ould be jirominent. THE TALK. (Sing the Froebel finger play, "In tlie branches of the tree." Show a nest and enhirge somewhat npon the nest bnikling and the family life which the song has only suggested.) The nest is the birdie's home. A small place for a whole fam- ily to live in, is it not? The baby birds are very tiny, however, and cuddle close together under the mother bird's wings; and the father bird generally sits on a branch near the nest. How do birds get so high in the tree? What do they use in flying? (Let the children tell all they can about birds, — their appearance and habits and songs, — and also tell what '.)irds they know by name.) What do birds like to eat? Fruit, grains and other seeds, and worms and insects. Where do they find them? Are the worms and insects out in the winter? Are the fruits on the trees in winter? What will the poor birds do, then, when the cold winds IN THE CHILD S WORLD. blow and the trees are bare and the ground is covered with snow? Poor httle things! They could not live if they stayed here. They would freeze or starve in our cold laud. So, some time in the autumn, when they find that the air is colder and food is getting scarce, they decide to go away. AVhole flocks of them fly away together. Where do you think they go? Far away to another part of our land where it is warm, bright, summer weather. Is it not wonderful that they know when and where to go? — wonderful that they can find their way, sometimes across the sea even, and always a long distance? How glad they must be, after flying so far, to reach a place where they find fruit and flowers, aud green trees and warm sunshine! Do all the birds fly away to a warm country? Which birds stay Avith us all Avinter? Is it easy for them to find enough to eat? Would you like to help them sometimes this Avinter? Even if we should only give the birds the crumbs and bits from our lunch every day, it Avould be a help to them. Perhaps Ave can sometimes make quite a feast for our little feathered friends. TEACHER'S READING. A Popular Handbook of the Ornithology of the T'liited States, Based on Nuttall's JNIanual, - - M. Chaitiberlain Migration of Birds ("Winners in Life's Kace" ), - Arabella Buckley A Bird Medley ("'Birds and Poets"), - - - Burroughs November Birds ("Sharp Eyes'"), - - - - W.M. Gibson The Unknown Land, - - - - - Margaret Gatty To a Waterfowl, - ... Bryant A September Robin, - - I>. Mulock Craik A Remembrance of Autumn. - - - Adelaide A. Proctor The Flight of the Birds, - - - - E. C. Stedman The Departure of the Swallow, .... IF. Howitt Bird Ways, - - - - - - O. T. Miller FOR THE CHILDREN. Coming and Going (Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks), S. E. Wiltse IJS THE child's world. 1^ STORIES. LISA AND THE BIRDS. I From the Norwegian . i " Tell me,'' said little Lisa, The pretty child so sweet, " Where do you tiny birdies Find all you need to eat?"' The little birds in answer Sang cheerily : " We know ! For us, a dainty table Is spread where'er we go: The good brown earth, so kindly, Has scarce a single plant Which will not feast the birdies When seeds or fruits they want." So sang the birds to Lisa; But Lisa, pitying, said : " When little birds are tired Where can they find a bed? Then gaily chirped the birdies, " In every bush or tree Where we may choose to build them We have our dwellings free. Leaf shaded and leaf hidden We safely go to rest; Was never bed more cosy Than is the birdie's nest.'' Still questioned little Lisa: " But when you wish to drink, What then? ' ' The birdies warbled : " We seek the brooklet's ;)rink, Or sip the dew of morning Which every leaf holds up; Or take with joy the raindrops From some bright llower's cup. And many a spring and fountain And many a wayside pool Their sparkling waters offer, So fresh and pure and cool." 14 IN THE CHILI) 8 WOULD. Then said the loving Lisa: " When winter cold is here And everything is frozen, Oh, you will starve, I fear! "' Again the birds chirped gaily: " O little maiden kind. We fly to lands of sunshine Where summer joys we find. And for the birds who stay here Ev'n when cold winter comes, Some child as sweet as you, dear, Will surely scatter crumbs. Emilik POUISSON. THE CKAXE EXPRESS. Once upon a time tliere were six little birds, all fat, all fluffy, uiid all friendly; and they sat in a row on the shore of the Med- iterranean Sea. Said one of them to the others, '^'Fat and fluffy friends, let us go over to Africa. I have lieard that the worms there walk into one's mouth as soon as one opens it, and that they have b'esides a very fine flavor." Said the others to him, *' Fluft'y friend and fat, gladly would we go to Africa, but how can we get there? Our wings are short, and we are small. We never could fly so far, but should drop into the sea and be drowned.'' "That is true," said the first. " Let us see if some one does not come along who will carry us over."' So they all waited, sit- ting in a row on the sand. Soon a great fish came swimming by. IN THE child's world. 15 " Will you curry us to Africii, fish?" asked the six little birds. *'I will curry you to the bottom of the sea,'' replied the fish, *'Just like this!'' and, folding his fins, he darted down through the water as swift as an arrow. " Dearl dearl " said the little birds. " ITow lucky that we did not go Avith him. We must still wait." Soon a slieep came Avalking by, and as it looked very good- natured, the birds asked if it would carry them over to Africa. "^ I can't,'' said the sheep. "I never swim, and I caiinot fly. You must wait for the cranes." "And Avho are the cranes?" asked the little birds. " I'hey are big birds," said the sheep, ''with long bills, longer necks, and legs that are longer yet. Once every year they come from the north and fly to Africa, and always carry small birds like you. I wonder you have never seen them." "Wo are very young,'' replied the fat, flutfy, little friends. "AVe have seen little of the world, but we thank you very much for telling us, and we will wait for the cranes."' They had not long to wait. In a few minutes they heard a rushing eound overhead, and looking up saw a flock of great birds with necks outstretched and wings spread wide, flying low over the beach. "Will you carry us over to Africa?" called the little birds all in a flutter, as the first crane swept by. " I am full! " replied the crane. " The fourth behind me has room for you, but you must get on quickly I" As he flew on, the six friends saw that his back was covered with small birds, all huddled together and holding on with beaks and claws. The second crane passed, and the third, both heavily laden. Then came the fourth. Hop! skip! flutter! scramble! and the six fat, fluffy friends were seated on his back, with a dozen or more little fellows about their own size. "Are you all right?" said the crane. "Hold on tight! " and away he flew over the wide, blue sea. Many other little birds came flying to the shore, to take pas- sage on the Crane Express. And many a back was covered with tiny passengers. 10 lif THE CHILD S WOliLD, "All aboard! all aboard! '' cried the cranes. " Twitter! chirp! twit-twit!" piped the passengers. And the whole train swept on, far away over the sea, toward the white shore of Africa. Now, part of this story may be true, for cranes really do carry hundreds of small birds over the Mediterranean Sea every year. But whether the African worms walk into bird's mouths of their own accord or not, is quite another matter; and if I were you, I would not believe it till I saw it. Holmes' Third Reader. University Publisliing Co., New York. BIKD THOUGHTS. I lived first in a little house, And lived there very well, I thought the world was small and roun(i; And made of pale blue shell. I lived next in a little nest, Nor needed any other, I thought the world was made of straw, And brooded by my mother. One day I fluttered from the nest To see what I could find. I said: " The world is made of leaves, I have been very blind." At length I flew beyond the tree. Quite fit for grown-up labors. — I don't know how the world is made. And neither do my neighbors! Unlcnorni. WOOD. To THE Teacher: — (Having various familiar objects on the table, let the children tell of •what they are made. Or, if the talks on fruits and seeds have been given, take the subject from the point of the tree's gifts to us.) THE TALK. Let us each name some kind of fruit whicli grows on trees. (Do not forget the different kinds of nuts^ too.) Besides so many kinds of fruits, the trees give us the beautiful leaves which we have had in kindergarten this autumn, the sap of which maple sugar is made in the spring, and wood — oh! so much wood! All the wood we have to burn, and all the wood which is used in building, or in any way, comes from the trees. 18 IX THE Cllll.l/S WOKI,I>. (Have each child toucli or tell of something made of wood- Try to have this a lively exereise. Prepare the (diildren whom you tliiuk Avould nor. be ready to mention anything, by giving them wooden objects whioli they c.in show and name. A little forethought for the backward children will often en- able them to derive benefit which they would otherwise miss from an exercise.) Our tables and chaii's do not look much like the trees from which they are made, do they? 'J'ell me how a tree looks. What shape is the trunk — the tall, thick part? Is it rough or smooth as you touch it? Suppose Ave Avere going to make a table out of a tree, Avhat woukl be \h(i lirst thing to do? (Lead the children to trace as much of the work of preparation as possible, — the selection of a tree of the proper size and kind [choose tiie kind of Avhich tiie table is reail\' made,] the chopping down of the tree, and the sawing or chopping otf of the branches, hauling the logs to the river, floating them to the saAvmill where ihey are sawed into boards, piling them in the lumber yard to dry and to wait until some one comes to buy them. Sing •■ Zish, zish," and let the children play that they are making a table out of some of the boards whose history they have traced.) TEACHER'S READING. Wood and Its Uses, ------ Ena/clopifdia Pocket Key of Trees (both wild and cultivate Mother's^ Songn, Plnyn and Stories Tlie Joiner, ) Adam Bede, ----... Oeunje Eliot Annals of a (fillet Neighborhood, - - - Geor;/e Mac Donald Whittling, -------- Pierpont The Ship Builders, --.... Whittier The Building of the Ship, - . . . . Lonyfellow FOR THE CHILDREN". The Carj^euter (" Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks"), ----.. S. E. Wiltse Gutta Percha Willie, - - - . . George MacDonnld STORIES. LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS. A bright red wagon with four wheels, and a long handle to p-nll it by, is a delightful plaything, and little Howard, who had found just such a wagon at his bedside when he awoke one morning, could scarcely wait for the time to come when he could play with it. After breakfast he liurried out as soon as he could. At first it was fun enough just to run up and down on the broad side- walk and hear the wheels rattle on the bricks. It was interesting to practice turning, too ; for the front wheels turned under the body of the w^agon, just as those of a larger wagon do. By and by his Aunt Kate came down the street, and Howard ran joyfully to meet her and to show her his new wagon. " See the tires on the wheels. Auntie, how bright they are! And the front wheels turn, and the board at the back will come out. tool" Auut Kate admired everything, and, seeing the gilt letters on 28 IS THE child's world. the side of the wagon, asked, "Is 'Star' the name of this wonderful wagon?" " Yes," said Howard, " this is the * Star Express.' '' ''Then I will send this book to your mamma by the Star Express, for my arms are tired/' said Aunt Kate. So she put the big book into the cart and Howard took it to his mamma. After a while, Howard played that he was a milkman. He went along the walk, stopping in front of every house as if to leave the milk. By and by he came to the corner, and then turned to go back. But something was the matter with the little wagon. Howard looked around and saw that a wheel had come off. He picked it up and then stood looking at the wagon in great distress. He felt as if he should cry. He had thought he should have such fun all day, and now his wagon was broken. *' Perhaps papa can mend it,'" thought Howard: ''but even if he can, he will not be at home until to-night; papa is so busy, too, that he may not get time to mend it for two or three days." Poor Howard felt very unhappy as these thoughts passed through his mind. Just then some one spoke to him. A kind voice said ; " Let me take the wheel, little boy." A man whose face was as kind as the voice stood near. He was lifting down a wooden box which he had been carrying on his shoulders. Wondering wluit was going to happen, and with a sudden feel- ing of hope, Howard handed him the wheel. The man took some carpenter's tools from his box and went to work. Howard watched him with great interest. He saw tliat the man was a carpenter and knew exactly what to do. In a very little time the wheel was on, and the gay little wagon was as good as ever. " There !" said the carjienter, '' that is strong now. I do not think it will come off again." " Oh, thank you I Thank you I'' said Howard ; ''I am so glad it is mended. It is a new wagon and I have such fun with it." "Good-by," said the carpenter, as he took up liis box and put it on his shoulder. The Carpenter. 30 IX THK CIIII.U'S WDKl.I;. '' Oh I" said Howard, " I wisli you would let me take your box of tools for you. This is the Star Express." " That would be a good plan," said the carpenter. " How far does this express run?'' "As far as the corner," answered Howard. The carpenter put his box of tools into the wagon, and away went the Star Express rattling down the street. After this Howard used to watch for li is carpenter, as he called him, and run to meet him whenever he saw him in the distance; and if, as sometimes happened, the carpenter had his box of tools or a package of nails-to carry, Howard always put it into the wagon and took it as far as he could. Emilie Poulsson. AN OLD-FASHIONED liriYME. This is the Tree of the forest. This is the Ax whose steady blows, Cut down the Tree of tlie forest. This is the Woodman, who, everyone knows. Wielded the Ax whose steady bh)ws Cut down the Tree of the forest. This is the Log — to the river's side KoUed by the Woodman, who, every one knows. Wielded the Ax whose steady blows (.'ut down the Tree of tlie forest. This is the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, everyone knows, Wielded the Ax whose steady blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. This is the Wheel that went whirring round. Turned by the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows, Wielded the Ax whose steady blows <'r.t down the Tree of the forest. IN^ THE CUIl.l/s WOULD. 31 These are the Saws which, with buzzing sound, Were moved by tlie Wheel that went whirring round, Turned by the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows, Wielded the Ax whose heavy blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. These are the Boards, so straight and long. Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound, Were moved .by the Wheel that w^ent wiiirring round, Turned by the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. Wielded the Ax whose heavy blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. This is the Carpenter, skillful and strong, Who planed all the Boards so straight and long. Cut by the Saw^s which, with buzzing sound. Were moved by the Wheel that went whirring round. Turned by the River whose flo^ving tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodm.an, who, every one knows, Wielded the Ax whose steady blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. This is the House with its windows and doors With timbers and rafters and roofs and floors. Which was built by the Carpenter skillful and strong Who planed all the Boards so straight and long. Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound, AVere moved by the Wheel that went whii-ring round, Turned by the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. Wielded the Ax whose steady blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. 32 IN THE child's WOKl.l). Tliis is the Family — All are here — Father, and mother and children dear, Who live in the House with windows and doors, With timbers and rafters and roofs and floors. Which was built by the Carpenter, skillful and strong. Who planed all the Boards so straight and long, Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound. Were moved by the Wheel that went whirring round, Turned by the River whose flowing tide Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. Wielded the Ax whose steady blows Cut down the Tree of the forest. Emilie Poulsson. THE CLOCK. To THE Teacher :- At the beginning of the year, when there is danger that the chiklrem may be homesick, it is better to talk of something which will take their thoughts away from home and mother, and also away from the strange- ness of their kindergarten surroundings. Later, however, the kinder- garten room should be consciously observed, and its useful and pretty things rejoiced in. When the children are ready for this, tiie subject of the clock is to be introduced, since by it the important matter of punctuality can be brought forward, and this should be done as soon as- other considerations will allow. THE TALK. (Sing one of the clock songs at the end of the morning exer- cises and so lead directly to the subject.) Where is the clock? Do you hear it ticking? Let us listen. We must be very quiet or we shall not hear it. What does it say? All the whole day, while we are singing and playing and work- ing, and all the whole night, while we are sleeping, the clock keeps on saying, " tic-tac, tic-tac."' (Ask the children to look at the clock, and lead them to describe- the face, hands, pendulum and case. The mechanism is too complex to be explained to little children, although they will be interested and impressed with a sight of the many little wheels in motion.) Did you ever see papa or mamma wind the clock? Why must it be wound? Can you show me how the wheels move?' How does the pendulum swing? Why do we have clocks? (The children can give instances of the clock's usefulness.)' 34 IX THE CHILI) S WOllLl). The clock tells when it is time for mamma to get up and get break- fast, and for papa to go to his work ; and it tells when thechildrea should go to kindergarten, and when they should go home. All the children who. came to kinder- garten in good time this morning may stand. JShall I tell you how you can all be in time to-morrow? Ask your mamma to please look at the clock and to let yon start as soon as the clock points both hands out this way. (Show a quarter before nine ])y using a card clock-face or old clock, or blackboard picture.) Perhajissomeof the big boys and girls will notice for themselves when the clock at home says " time to go to kinder- garten.'" Where have you seen clocks besides at home and at kindergarten? On churches, i-;iilroad stations, etc., etc. Have yon seen anything else which shows the time? Long ago people had no clocks or watches. What do you suppose they did then? They used to tell the time by notic- iiig the sunlight and the shadows. (De- j ■ scribe the sundial and show the jjicture.) I The sundial was of no use at night, how- ^ ever, nor on stormy and cloudy days when the sun was hidden ; so people found other ways of measuring time. (Show an hourglass.) Sometimes water was used instead of sand (in an instrument called the clepsydra) and time was measured by the falling of drops of water. None of these ways were very convenient, however, and men were constantly trying to make something better for telling the time, but they had to think and study and work and try very hard, over and over again, before they succeeded in making clocks and watches as good and useful and wonderful as these which we have now. The Sundial. "30 IN THE child's WORLD. TEACHER'S READING. "History of the Clock, Encyclopcedia Frccbel's Explanation of the Clock or Tic-tac Play, Mother'' s ISoyigs, Plays and Stories The Clock on the Stairs, ----- Lomj/ellow A Petition to Time, ------ Barry Cornwall Time's Cure (Anonymous), - - Dana's Household Hook of Poetry Active and Passive, ------ Margaret Gatty FOPt THE CHILDREN. Frances Keeps her Promise, - - - - Jane Taylor •Cinderella at the Ball. STORIES. WHAT THE CLOCK TOLD DOLLY. Dolly Dimple sat on a rug by the hall fire, thinking. I doubt •whether you have overseen a great old-fashioned hall like the one where Dolly was sitting, for such halls are not built nowadays. This one was part of a great, rambling house which was more than a hundred years old. Dolly Dimple was born there and Dolly Dimple's mother and grandmother had lived in it a long time. They had left their home across the water and come to this one when Dolly's mother was a tiny child. Dolly was certain there had never been another such house, and this hall was her !?pecial delight. It was square, and had a shining oak floor, half covered with furry rugs. The walls were made of the same dark wood, and at the end was the cheery open fireplace where mossy logs roared and crackled all winter long, lighting up the dark ■corners and telling wonderful stories of the summer-time and of .their lives in the foi-est. Near by -was a broad staircase, on the IN THE child's WORLD. 37 first landing of which stood a clock, and it was about this clock that Dolly Dimple was thinking so deeply that wonderful night. It was a very tall clock, — taller than Dolly's papa, — and it had a long glass door through which she could see the weights and the pendulum which never moved now. Above this was the round, good-natured face which Dolly was morally certain looked very different at different times ; when she was good it smiled sweetly upon her, but when she was cross — and I am sorry to say Dolly was cross sometimes — it looked at her so sorrowfully! It could sympathize, too; for Dolly said that when she was in trouble she had seen the tears streaming down the old clock's face ; but since she was looking through a mist of tears herself at such times I should not like to say that this was really true. But the strangest thing of all about this clock was that it would strike. Now maybe all you wise little ones do not think it a very strange thing for a clock to strike; but when I tell you that this clock did so in spite of the fact that its wheels had not moved for many years, that will surely make you wonder ! And then it would strike at the strangest times ! No one ever knew when it was going off, and it had been known to strike as many as seventeen! Dolly couldn't understand it at all, and as no one explained it to her, it had puzzled her a great deal. That night she was more mystified than ever ; for at daybreak the clock had struck five, and how could the clock have known that it was her fifth birthday ? She lay curled up on the soft rug, thinking about it, until she began to grow drowsy. The crackling of the wood sounded farther and farther away; the shrill chirp of the cricket which lived at the back of the fireplace grew fainter and fainter. Suddenly a voice — a very cracked voice — broke the silence. ''Dolly! Dolly Dimple!" it said. Dolly jumped up so hastily that the startled cricket sprang backward nearly into the fire. \Yhere had the voice come from? Dolly peered carefully about the hall until her eyes rested upon the old clock, when she was surprised to see that a new look had crept over its face, — a look which told Dolly that it was the clock that had spoken. And, sure enough! as she was gazing at it, it spoke again. 38 ■ IX Tilt: child's avohld. " Would you like to hear a story, Dolly?"' it asked. Now there was nothing Dolly liked better than a story; and forgettiug her surprise, in her eagerness to hear what the clock had to say, she answered quickly : •'*' Yes inde?d, clock ; canyon tell me one?" " That I can," said the clock. " I'll tell you the story of my life." Dolly felt sure that now the mystery was to be solved, and curled herself up more comfortably to listen ; the busy cricket straightened her cap and folded her hands to show her deep attention ; the fire gave out a warmer glow, and the clock began : — " Perhaps, Dolly Dimple, you will understand better what a wonder I am if I tell you that once upon a time there wasn't a clock upon the face of the earth I " " Why-ee ! What asto — ," began the cricket, and then stoi)ped; but it was quite plain that she did not believe a word of it. " No clocks!" cried Dolly, " why, how did little girls know when it was school-time, or dinner-time, or — or — anything?" " They had other ways of telling time," answered the clock: " one of the first things by which they measured it was a stick, — a straight stick!" "A stick!" exclaimed Dolly. *'A straight stick!" murmured the cricket; "I kneio that clock was crazy." " / was brought up to think that it Avas impolite to interrupt," said the clock. '' Of coarse it is," said Dolly, "we will not breathe another word, will we, cricket?" " But a stick!" groaned the cricket, shaking her head. " Yes," said the clock, " try it for yourself! Go out of doors the next sunfly morning and plant a little stick in the ground. If it is early, the shadow will be agreatdeallonger than the stick itself, and will look as if hiding from the sun ; as noon draws near, you will find the shadow creeping up and up, until Just at noon, the stick seems to swallow it; and then, as the sun moves on toward the west, the shadow peeps out and creeps off on the other IN Till-: child's world. 39 side of the stick until night, wlieu shadow and stick are both swallowed in darkness. " Now don't you see how you could tell time by the stick and its shadow? And it was this which made somebody think of a sun- dial." "A sundial,*' broke in the cricket, who could not keep still; "What is that?" *' It looks like a doll's table with a little piece of metal standing up in the center; and on the table top is marked the length of the shadow which this piece of metal casts at different hours of the day." " Was that the only clock they had?" asked Dolly. " If your pussy had lived in those days they would have used her for a timepiece," said the clock. The cricket evidently thought this too foolish a story to be noticed at all, and even Dolly looked shocked; but the clock knew what it was talking about and went right on. "If you look at Kitty's eyes when she first wakes in the morn- ing, you will find that the dark place in the middle of the eye is very big and round ; but soon you will notice that it is growing narrow, until by noon it is as fine as a hair ; and then it will slowly grow larger again, until, when night comes, it will be as big and round as it was in the morning." "What a bother it must have been to tell time in these ways!" said Dolly. "Yes, I think so myself," replied the clock, "and people be- gan to think that they ought to have something better to depend upon. So about five hundred years ago, some one invented a clock, — not a big, handsome one like myself, but a very plain affair that had no pendulum and could not strike." " Poor thing I" sighed Dolly. " Better not strike at all than strike as some clocks do," observed the cricket rather spitefully. "But it was a clock, and considered a very wonderful thing in those days," continued the clock; "and people must have been pretty well satisfied, for they did not add a pendulum for several hundred years." 40 I.V THE CHILI) S WORLD. '•' Are you very old?" asked Dolly. "Yes, I am very, very old. It must be over a hundred years since my hands began to move. — x\h! that was a proud day for my maker I Every tiny, shining wheel was as perfect as perfect could be, and my case was a beautiful sight. On the day that I was finished the little clockmaker was the happiest man alive. He examined me in every part with the greatest care, and my perfection delighted him. Then he took a big ke}', and wound me up, touched my pendulum, and with a 'tick-tack, tick-tack,' I started out on my life-work. The little clockmaker did not long have me to admire, however, for very soon an old lady bought me, and I was carried away across the blue rolling water and placed in this hall. I am worn-out and useless now, but then I was of the greatest importance. Nothing was done without consulting me. Ever and ever so many bright-eyed children have raced up and down the stairs and curled up by the fire just as you are doing. I have loved them all and tried to show them that it was only by keeping our hands busy working for others, and by doing right, that we could be happy and make our friends love us. They may have thought that all I said was ' tick-tack, tick- tack,' but really I have always said as plainly as plainly could be,—' Do right, do right.'" "Dear old clockl" murmured Dolly; and even the cricket turned her head and wiped away a tear. " Before I stop," said the clock, " I must speak of one thing that others besides yourselves have noticed;" and the clock glanced at the cricket, who looked as if she wanted to sink through the floor. "You must know that a great while ago my hands refused to move another minute. It was a sorry day for me, and sometimes my feelings overcome me even now when I think of the past. At such times it is a great relief to me to strike." " You dear old clock," cried Dolly; "you shall strike as often as you please, and if the cricket ever dares — " "Dolly! Dolly Dimple!" Harry was calling. Dolly sat up and rubbed her eyes. " What is the matter?" she asked. " That's what I'd like to knovvl Why, the very idea of a little girl with a birthday sleeping as if it were any other day!" IN THE child's "WOULD. 41 '•'Sleeping! I haven't slept a wink! Why, the clock has been talking, and the cricket, and, — " " Very likely! As if I'd believe that when I've knocked over the poker and the shovel and the tongs, and you never so much as winked." Dolly looked up at the old clock, but n6ver a word did it say. The broad, good-natured face beamed down upon her the same as ever, but she fancied it wore a wise expression that said as plainly as so many words: ''Keep quiet; boys are not half so wise as they think they are. Don't mind him, but remember all I have told you, and try to learn something every day from everybody. Be glad that you have clocks to tell you the time and to remind yon to keep your hands busy and to ' do right, do right.' " "Dolly! Dolly! Why do you keep staring at that old clock? I declare you are half asleep yet!" Dolly rubbed her eyes and stared at her laughing brother, and then again at the now silent clock. She was glad that she had been warned to keep quiet, for she did not feel like telling the whole story then ; but when she grew up she used to tell little children " What the Clock told Dolly." Minnie G. Clark. THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM. An old clock that had stood for fifty years in a farmer's kitchen without giving its owner any cause of complaint, early one sum- mer's morning, before the family was stirring, suddenly stopped. Upon this, the dial plate (if we may credit the fable) changed countenance with alarm; the hands made a vain effort to continue their course; the wheels remained motionless with surprise; the weights hung speechless; each member felt disjjosed to lay the blame on the others. At length the dial instituted an inquiry as to the cause of the stagnation, when hands, wheels, weights, with one voice, protested their innocence. But now a faint tick was heard below from the pendulum, who thus spoke : " I confess myself to be the sole cause of the 42 IX THE CHILI) S WORLD. present stoi^page, and I am willing, for the general satisfaction, to assign my reasons. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking. '* Upon hearing this, the old clock became so enraged that it was on the very point of striking. "Lazy Avire!" exclaimed the dial plate, holding up its hands. " Very good !" replied the pendulum; " it is vastly easy for you. Mistress Dial, who have always, as everybody knows, set yourself up above me — it is vastly easy for you, I say, to accuse other people of lazinessl You, who have had nothing to do all the days of your life but to stare people in the face, and to amuse yourself with watching all that goes on in the kitchen! Think, I beseech you, how you would like to l)e shut up for life in this dark closet, and to wag backwards and forwards year after year, jis I do." "As to that," said the dial, "is there not a window in your house for you to look througli?" "For all that," resumed the pendulum, "it is very dark here, and, although there is a window, I dare not stop, even for an instant, to look out at it. Besides, I am really tired of my way of life; and if you wish, I'll tell you how I took this disgustatmy employment. I happened this morning to be calculating how many times I should have to tick in the course of only the next twenty-four hours; perhaps some of you above there can give me the exact sum." The minute-hand, being quick at iigures, replied, "Eighty- six thousand four hundred times." "Exactly so," replied the pendulum. "Well, I appeal to you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue one; and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by those of months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt dis- couraged at the prospect; so, after a great deal of reasoning and hesitation, thinks I to myself, I'll stop." The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this harangue, but, resuming its gravity, thus replied: " Dear Mr. Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious person as yourself should have been overcome by this sudden suggestion. It is true, you have done a great deal of work in your time; so have we all, and are likely to do, which, although it may fatigue us to think of , the question is, whether it will I .V 'ihp: child's wdkld, 4:} fatigue us to du. Will you now give about lialf a dozen strokes to illustrate my argument?'' The pendulum complied, and ticked six times in its usual pace. " Now," resumed the dial, '' may I be allowed to inquire if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you?" ''Not in the least," replied the, pendulum; " it is not of -six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions." " Very good," replied the dial, " but, recollect that, though you may tJiink of a million strokes in an instant, you are required to execute but one; and that, however often you may hereafter have to swing, a moment will always be given you to swing in." " Then I hope," resumed the dial plate, " we shall all imme- diately return to our duty, for the maids will lie in bed if we stand idling thus." Upon this the weights, who had never been accused of light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began to move, and the pendulum began to swing; while a red beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in the kitchen, shining full upon the dial plate, it brightened up as if nothing had been the matter. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon looking at the clock, he declared that his Avatch had gained half an hour in the night. Jane Taylor. Leaves. 44 AUTUMN. To TLiK Tkaciip:!!: — Bring all of nature that is possible into the kindergarten — colored leaves, autumn flowers, deserted nests, chrysalides, bare twigs, etc. Ask the children to bring, during the week, whatever they can find which shows that autumn has come. To revive the memories of summer and contrast summer and autumn, is the special aim of this talk. Reach back to spring and forward to winter incidentally. The thought of autumn as the harvest time and the time of prejiaring fcr winter should run through all the talks at this season of the year. THE TALK. Who can remember the first day we came to kindergarten this year? What can you remember before that? Why did we not have kindergarten then? What do we call that time of year when the weather is so warm? Tell me something about the summer. If the children have been to the city parks or gar- dens or playgrounds, speak of the beauty and advantages of such places, not forgetting to give credit to the city for providing them. Did any of you go to the seashore? Tell us about it. Did any of you go into the country? to a farm? W^hat was the farmer doing? Taking care of what he had planted in the spring — cutting the grass, raking and taking in the hay, hoeing corn and potatoes, weeding the garden, etc. Tell me what some of the animals were doing in the summer. Farm horses work- ing, cattle enjoying the pasture, squirrels, birds and insects playing merrily in the woods and fields. (Contrast all these summer activities with the autumn doings 40 I-V THK ClIILn S WOULD. at the farm and in the woods.) Is it summer now? Let us see how many signs we can think of which show that autumn is here. Once upon a time some little children had been talking about the signs of autumn just as we have, and they asked a friend of theirs to write some autumn verses for them. They told her just what to put into the verses. Suppose I tell you what she wrote. Listen carefully and see whether we had thought of all the signs of autumn which the verses mention. (Read or recite slowly "An Autumn Song.") TEACHER'S READING. Change of Seasons ('' Sun, Moon and Stars"), - - Ar/nes Giberne November's Wild Flowers, I ,u cu„,... T7,.^<, '»\ tir tt /^,-i,„„„ The Autumn Pipers, ( < ^^^'^^ ^ ^^^^ >' " " ^^ ' ^- ^'^'^'^ The Sleei>ing Flowers, .--_..- Emily Dickinson The Pomegranate Seed, ------- Hawthorne TheHuskers, I ........ Whittier Song of Harvest, \ yv/nmer Times go by Turns, .-_...- Robert Southwell In Time's Swing, .....--- Lucy Lar com An Indian Summer lleverie, - Lowell Fringed Gentian, '......... Brvant Death of the Flowers, \ aryani On the Grasshopi^er and Cricket, ------ Leigh Hunt On the Grasshopper and Cricket, ------ Keats The Eeaper, ----_.-.-- Wordsworth Autumn (From " The Seasons "), ------ Thomson FOR THE CHILDREN. The Maple Leaf and the Violet (" The Story Hour " ), K. D. Wirjgin The Anxious Leaf, I ("Kindergarten Stories and The Little Harvest Mouse, i Morning Talks "), - S. E. Wiltse Two Bunnies (" Stories for the Kindergarten and Home"), M. L. Van Kirk IM THE child's WORLD. 47 STORIES. THE BABY-BUDS' WINTER CLOTHES. The warm summer had gone and autumn had come with its cooler winds, when, one day, the hickory tree said to its leaves: " My pretty yellow leaves, you need not take care of the baby- buds any more, as it is time for them to put on their winter clothes. But I think the flower seeds would like to have you help them now. Are you willing to go down to the ground in order to help them?" " Yes," said the leaves, " we would like to help the dear little seeds to be flowers." So they dropped to the ground, and cov- ered it, that the little seeds might not freeze in their winter home in the earth, but might live to make plants and flowers in the spring. Then the hickory tree said: " Baby-buds, it is time for you to put on your winter clothes, so that you can keep warm all winter and open into leaves in the spring." " We are all ready," said the buds; so the tree gave them their coats. The outside coat of each bud was a gum coat to keep out the wet. " Why, that was a waterproof coat ! How funny for the buds to have water- proof coats." Yes, it is strange, but if you learn how to look, you will find out a great many strange things. After the little side-buds had been given their winter clothes, the tree said: ''My little end-buds, you are so much more exposed to the cold than the other buds that you must be dressed more warmly than they are." So the little end-buds put on one coat after another, till you would have thought, to look at them, that they were at least twice as large as the side-buds, and their gum coats had to be a great deal bigger than those of the others. I saw an end-bud of a hickory tree once that had twelve coats on it. Then all the baby-buds said: " Thank you, dear tree, for our winter clothes. Now we can keep warm till spring." Josephine Jarvis. Cobden, III. 48 IN THE child's world. AN AUTUMN SONG. The song-birds are Hying And southward are hying, No more their glad carols we hear. The gardens are lonely, — Chrysanthemums only Dare now let their beauty appear. The insects are hiding, — The farmer providing The lambkins a shelter from cold. And after October The woods will look sober Without all their crimson and gold. The loud winds are calling, The ripe nuts are falling. The squirrel now gathers his store. The bears, homeward creeping. Will soon all be sleeping So snugly, till winter is o'er. Jack Frost will soon cover The little brooks over; The snow-clouds are up in the sky All ready for snowing ; — Dear Autumn is going! We bid her a loving " good-bye." Emilie Poulssox. ^Kindergarten Magazine.' THE KIND OLD OAK. It was almost time for winter to come. The little birds had all gone far away, for they Avere afraid of the cold. There was no green grass in the fields, and there were no pretty flowers in the gardens. Many of the trees had dropped all their leaves. Cold winter, with its snow and ice, was coming. At the foot of an old oak tree some sweet little violets were still m blossom. "De:ir IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 49' old oak," said they, "winter is coming; we are afraid that we shall die of the cold." ''Do not be afraid, little ones," said the oak, "close your yel- low eyes in sleep, and trust to me. You have made me glad many a time with your sweetness. Now I will take care that the winter shall do you no harm." ■ So the violets closed their pretty eyes and went to sleep; they knew that they could trust the kind, old oak. And the great tree softly dropped red leaf after red leaf upon them, until they were all covered over. The cold winter came, with its snow and ice, but it could not harm the little violets. Safe under the friendly leaves of the old oak, they slept and dreamed happy dreams until the warm rains of spring came and waked them again. •'Little Flower Folks."' Educational Publishimj Co., Boston, 2Iass. Cnestnat^ m the Durr. THE CHESTNUT BOYS. In a warm little bed, in a little green house, Mother Nature had tucked three baby boys safely away for a long sleep. The liouse was not like the ones we live in, for it had only one tiny room, with no windows, and the door was fastened so tightly that no one could get in or out. For many, many bright sunny days the little boys were sleep- ing, and all this time they were growing a little larger and a little larger, just as you all are growing. But by and by the days began to grow cooler. The green leaves put on their autumn dresses of red and yellow, and came rustling down from the tree to play with the wind. Then the babies stirred in their little bed, for the Wind was busy painting brown their green house, and he whistled so loudly at his work that they heard him in their dreams. Close behind 50 IN THE CHILI -'S WOULD. the Wind came his friend, Jack Frost, a roguish little fellow. Gently he knocked at the door of the house, and softly he whis- pered, '•'Come out, little hoys; come out and play with mel" But Mother Nature only tucked her babies more snugly into bed, and answered: "No, not yet, dear little ones; sleep a little longer!" Then Jack Frost went away to play with the red and yellow leaves; but soon he came flying back, calling, ''Come out for a frolic with me, boys; come out for a frolic!" And again Mother Nature answered: " Not yet! not yet, my children!" Again came Jack Frost, and knocked very loudly at the door: " Come out! come out!" he called. And the little brothers cried, "Yes, yes, dear Mother, let us go and play with Jack Frost and theAYind!" Then the mother smiled, a little sadly, and answered: " Yes, for you have grown to be big boys now, and it is time for you to go!" 80 she unfastened the door and opened it wide, and out the three hurried. But they soon found that the big world was not at all like their warm, soft little house. The Wind blew and whistled around them, and made them shiver; and Jack Frost was a rough playfellow, though he meant to be kind, and they soon grew weary and called to their mother: " Dear Mother Nature, we are tired; put us to sleep again!" Then the mother spread over them, where they lay on the ground, a warm covering of " red and yellow and faded brown." By and by she heard their sleepy voices again: " Kind Mother, we are cold !" Then Mother Nature sent a soft, white covering of snow, and wrapped them in it so nicely, that they hud hardly time to mur- mur " Thank you, good Mother," before they were fast asleep. And there they will stay, till the warm sun and the gentle breezes and the soft rain wake them in the sweet springtime. Can you guess who the little brothers were, in their snug, warm house? They were the Chestnut boys, and the brown burr is their little house. Helen Louise Towne. "Kindergarten Magazine." SEEDS. To THE Teacher :- This talk, contributed by ;i fiiena, is based upon " Treasure Boxes "in " Stories Mother Nature Told," by Jane Andrews. Provide peach, apple and other fruits ; beans and peas in their ' ' boxes f flrrains and other seeds. THE TALK. Begin the talk by allusions to boxes. What are they for? To put things away iu. We have boxes in the kindergarten. Some- times at home we have boxes in which to put away things that we care very much about; treasure boxes they are sometimes called. Now I am going to show you something that has a treasure box. (Bring out a peach.) Do you think this peach has a treasure box? Yes, if tlie peach could talk it would tell you that it has worked all summer storing food and drinking in sunshine, not only to make the delicious soft part which you like to eat, but for the life that is in the "stone," as we sometimes call the hard part in the middle. (Cut away the fruit. Show the deep color, and how the fibers cling to the stone or shell.) This stone is the peach's treasure box. (Ask if any one knows what is inside the shell. Show how hard the shell is. Let a child try to open it, then crack it and show the seed.) The seed is the peach's treasure. Do you know of any other treasure boxes? Apples, plums, flower seeds, peas, beans, etc., etc. (Ask the children to bring seeds for the next day, when you will tell them more about such treasure boxes.) 52 IN THE child's world. FOR THE SECOND DAY. Yesterday we talked about the peach's treasure box; to-day we have many others. (Phice fruits on table. Let the children come in groups, or distribute seeds to a few children. Examine the fruits. Question. Notice- similarities and differences. Make a careful study of the common seeds that the children will be most likely to bring — peaches, apples, plums, melons, etc.) AT THE END OF THE WEEK. What have we been talking about this week? Seeds. We have seen how carefully Mother Nature guards her treasure boxes and has them ready for use in the springtime. Is there anyone who helps Mother Nature ? Yes; the farmer and all the seed gatherers. Mother Nature says to them, " Unless you gather and take care of my seeds you will not have any peach trees or apple trees and no corn or beans or peas or squashes, etc.," and so the farmer saves his seeds, — not all of them, but those that.he needs to plant or sell, for Mother Nature is so generous that she provides a great many seeds. And now for a wee bit of a stor}'. (Tell how a farmer's chil- dren helped to gather and save the seeds, and placed them in boxes, bags and envelopes; how the farmer marked them and put them away in a place where they would keep.) Do you not think we could put some of ours away in bags or •envelopes for next spring? Perhaps we can plant some of them and see them grow here. We will try to make something out of our colored papers to ihold the seeds. L. B. P. IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 53 TEACHER'S READING. Concerning a. Few Common Plants, - . - - Goodale How Plants Grow, -...--- Gray Planting Seeds in the Schoolroom (•' Outlines of Lessons in Botany"), ------ June H. Newell Seed Tramps, - - -) ,i,a\ t? >m n-K^^ Quickening'^Seeds and Seedlings, j < ^^^^^'P ^^^^ ^' " ^'^"^" Story of Mary and the Seeds (" Kindergarten Magazine," May and June, 1891), ----- E.G.Howe Song of the Sower, ------ Bryant The Little Brown Seed, ---'-- Harriet Lothrop Little Brown Seed in the Furrow, - - - Ida W. Benham FOR THE CHILDREN. Quercus Alba ("Stories Mother Nature Told"), Jane Andreios STORIES. FIVE PEAS IN A POD. There were once five peas in one shell; they were green, and the shell was green, so they believed that the whole world musi> be green also, which was a very natural conclusion. The shell grew, and the peas grew; they accommodated themselves to their position, and sat all in a row. The sun shone without and warmed the shell, and the rain made it clear and transparent; 5-i JX THE child's would. it was mild and agreeable in broad daylight, and dark at nighty and the peas as they sat there grew bigger and ])igger, and more thoughtful as they mused, for they felt there must be something for them to do. "Are we to sit here for ever?" asked one; "shall we not become hard by sitting so long? It seems to me there must be something outside, and I feel sure of it." And as weeks passed by the peas became yellow, and the shell became yellow. ''All the world is turning yellow, I suppose," said tliey^and perhaps they were right. Suddenly they felt a pull at the shell; it was torn off, and held in human hands, then slipped into the pocket of a jacket in com- pany with other full pods. " Now we shall soon be opened," said one — just what they all wanted. "■ I should like to know which of us will travel farthest," said the smallest of the five; "we shall soon see now." " What is to happen will happen," said the largest pea. " Crack," went the shell as it burst, and the five peas rolled out into the bright sunshine. There they lay in a child's hand. A little boy was holding them tightly, and said they were fine peas for his pea-shooter. And immediately he put one in and shot it out. " Now I am flying out into the wide world," said the pea; "catch me if you can;" and he was gone in a moment. " I," said the second, "intend to fly straight to the sun; that is a shell that lets itself be seen, and it will suit me exactly;" and away he went. " We will go to sleep wherever we find ourselves," said the two next, " we shall still be rolling onwards;" and they did cer- tainly fall on the floor and roll about before they got into the pea-shooter; but they were put in for all that. " We shall go farther than the others," said they. " What is to happen will happen," exclaimed the last, as he was shot out of the pea-shooter; and as he spoke he flew up against an old board under a garret window, and fell into a little crevice, which was almost filled up with moss and soft earth. " Getting Well.' 65 ■ 56 IN THE CHILl/S WORLD. The moss closed itself round him, and there he lay, a captive indeed, but not unnoticed by God. " What is to happen will happen," said he to himself. Within the garret lived a poor woman, who went out to clean stoves, chop wood into small pieces, and perform other hard work, for she was strong and industrious. Yet she remained always poor; and at home in the garret lay her only daughter, not quite grown up, and very delicate and weak. For a whole year she had kept her bed. Quietly and patiently she lay all day long, while her mother was away from home at lier work. Spring came, and one morning early the sun shone brightly through the little window and threw his rays over the floor of the room. Just as the mother was going to her work, the sick girl fixed her gaze on the lowest pane of the window. " Mother!" she exclaimed, ''what can that little green thing be that peeps in at the window? It is moving in the wind." The mother stepped to the window and half opened it, " Oh!" she said, " there is actually a little pea which has taken root and is putting ont its green leaves. How could it have got into this crack! Well, now, here is a little garden for you to amuse your- self with." So the bed of the sick girl was drawn nearer to the window, that she might see the budding plant; and the mother went out to her work. " Mother, I believe I shall get well," said the sick child in the evening, " the sun has shone in here so brightly and warmly to- day, and the little pea is thriving so well; I shall get on better, too, and go out into the warm sunshine again." "God grant it!" said the mother, but she did not believe it would be so. But she propped up with a little stick the green plant which had given her child such pleasant hopes of life, so that it might not be broken by the winds; she tied the piece of string to the window sill and to the upper part of the frame, so that the pea tendrils might twine round it when it shot up. 'And it did shoot up; indeed it might almost be seen to grow from day to day. " Eeally, here is a flower coming," said the old woman one morning, and now at List she began to encourage the hope that her little sick daughter might really recover. She remembered IN THE child's would. 57 that for some time the child had spoken more cheerfully, and during the last few days had raised herself in bed in the morning to look with sparkling eyes at her little garden which contained only a single pea-plant. A week after, the invalid sat up for the first time a whole hour, feeling quite happy by the oi^en window in the warm sunshine, while outside grew the little plant, and on it a pink pea-blossom in full bloom. The little maiden bent down and gently kissed the delicate leaves. This day was to her like a festival. "Our Heavenly Father Himself has planted that pea, and made it grow and flourish, to bring joy to you and hope to me, my blessed child," said the happy mother, and she smiled at the flower, as if it had been an angel from God. And when the young maiden stood at the open garret window, with sparkling eyes and the rosy hue of health on her cheeks, she folded her thin hands over the pea-blossom and thanked God for what He had done. Hans Chr. Andersen. PSYCHE'S TASKS. There was once a very beautiful earthly maiden named Psyche. Every one liked to see her joyous face, as she roamed over the meadows gathering the field-flowers, or sat weaving them into garlands for her friends. She had many friends and companions, but chief among them all was one who used to come down to visit her from lofty Olympus, the home of the gods. This was the little winged god, Cupid, who loved her dearly. Now Psyche, charming and loving as she was, was a thought- less child, and one day, by a foolish prank, gave such offense to Cupid that he spread his rosy wings and flew away. As day after day passed and he did not come again, she mourned and grieved for her companion, but not her grief nor even her repentance could bring him back. At last, some one, pitying her sorrow, advised her to go to the temple of Venus, and there to beg the assistance of Venus her- self, who was the mother of Cupid. Psyclie, with hope revived. 58 IN THE chu.d's world. went straightway to the temple, with its sliining pilhirs and white marble steps, and humbly made her request, but A'enus told her that there were hard tasks to be performed before she could win back what she had so foolishly lost. Psyche willingly undertook to perform these, but when she learned what the first one was, her heart sank. Venus led her to a vast granary, where wheat, barley, millet, and all sorts of grain lay about on the floor, mixed together in hopeless confusion. " Before evening,'* said Venus, "all these different sorts of grain must be separated from each other, and each kind must be piled by itself." To poor Psyche it did not seem possible to accomplish such a task; nevertheless, she at once set to work; she would at least do all that she could, she thought; so she sifted and sorted, and arranged without stopping till late in the afternoon. Then, as she looked at htr orderly little piles and saw how tiny they appeared beside the great heaps of grain that remained to be sorted, she felt saddened and discouraged indeed. She held bravely, however, to her purpose of doing her best, little as it might prove to be, and her busy hands were working even more quickly than before, when — a wonderful thing happened. Psyche did not notice it at first, but presently raising her eyes from her work, she was astonished to see that her piles of sorted grain had mounted to a surprising height, and that the big un- sorted heaps had become very much smaller. From every side had come swarms and crowds of friendly little ants. Each one had set to work, as patiently and as perseveringly as Psyche her- self, to help her to accomplish her task before the end of the day. She could see them tugging away at grains larger than themselves, or marching steadily, one behind another, each set- ting down his burden in the right place and then returning for more. Now she could work with a light heart, and when even- ing came and the friendly ants had trooped off through their cracks and crannies, the task was accomplished and everything was seen to be, as if by magic, in perfect order. Psyche did not know who had sent the ants to her assistance. She never thought that Cupid himself, though he could not come to her, was helping her in this way. The other tasks imposed upon Psyche were no less difficult xN THE child's WORLD. 59 than the first hud been; but though, one by one, Psyche accom- plished them all, still she heard nothing of her beloved companion and was beginning to despair of ever seeing him again. Cupid, hov/ever, was nearer to her than she thought and the moment came at last when he could go to her. One day, when Psyche, weary and discouraged, was least ex- pecting him, a light whirring of wings sounded in the air, and in a moment Cupid himself, like a shining vision, stood before her eyes. She could hardly believe that she was not dreaming, even when he told her that her troubles and labors were at last over and that he was to be separated from her no longer, A beautiful pair of butterfly wings was given to Psyche, that she might be able to fly as Cupid did, and together the two went winging their way through the blue air to Olympus, the abode of the gods. There among the gods and goddesses, Cupid and Psyche lived joyfully ever after; never again were they separated from one another. F. H. APPLE-SEED JOHN. PooFt Johnnj^ was bended well-nigh double With years of toil, and care, and trouble; But his large old heart still felt the need Of doing for others some kindly deed. " But what can I do ?" old Johnny said; "I who work so hard for daily bread? It takes heaps of money to do much good; I am far too poor to do as I would." The old man sat thinking deeply a while. Then over his features gleamed a smile. And he clapped his hands with a boyish glee. And said to himself, "There's a way for me!" He worked, and he worked with might and main, But no one knew the plan in his brain. He took ripe apples in pay for chores, And carefully cut from them all the cores. 60 IN THE child's WORLD. He filled a bag full, then wandered away, And no man saw him for many a day. With knapsack over his shoulder slung, He marched along, and whistled or sung. He seemed to roam with no object in view, Like one who had nothing on earth to do; But, journeying thus o'er the pi-airies wide. He paused now and then, and his bag untied. With pointed cane deep holes he would bore, And in ev'ry hole he placed a core; Then covered them well, and left them there In keeping of sunshine, rain and air. Sometimes for days he waded through grass, And saw not a living creature pass, But often, when sinking to sleep in the dark. He heard the owls hoot and the prairie dogs bark. Sometimes an Indian of sturdy limb Came striding along and walked with him; And he who had food shared with the other. As if he had met a hungry brother. When the Indian saw how the bag was filled. And looked at the holes that the white man drilled, He tliought to himself 't wlis a silly jjlan To be planting seed for some future man. Sometimes a log cabin came in view, Where Johnny was sure to find jobs to do, By which he gained stores of bread and meat, And welcome rest for his weary feet. He had full many a story to tell. And goodly hymns that he sung right well; He tossed up the babes, and joined the boys In many a game full of fun and noise. And he seemed so hearty, in work or play, Men, women, and boys all urged him to stay; But he always said, " I have something to do, And I must go on to carry it through." IN THE child's WORLp. 61. The boys, who were sure to follow him round, Soon found what it was he put in the ground; And so, as time passed and he traveled on, Ev'ry one called him " Old Apple-seed John.' Whenever he'd used the whole of his store, He went into cities and worked for more; Then he marched back to the wilds again, And planted seed on hill-side and plain. In cities, some said the old man was crazy; While others said he was only lazy; But he took no notice of gibes and jeers, He knew he was working for future years. He knew that trees would soon abound AVhere once a tree could not have been found; That a flick' ring play of light and shade AVould dance and glimmer along the glade ; That blossoming sprays would form fair bowers, And sprinkle the grass with rosy showers ; And the little seeds his hands had spread Would become ripe apples when he was dead. So he kei)t on traveling far and wide, Till his old limbs failed him, and he died. He said at the last, " 'T is a comfort to feel I 've done good in the world, though not a great deal." Weary travelers, journeying west. In the shade of his trees find pleasant rest; And they often start, Avith glad surprise. At the rosy fruit that round them lies. And if they inquire whence came such trees, . Where not a bough once swayed in the breeze. The answer still comes, as they travel on, " These trees were planted by Apple-seed John." Lydia Maria Child. 'St. Mcholas." June, 1880. THE WIND. To THE Teacher: — After the morning greetings the central subject of the morning may be introduced in many ways: perhaps by directing the children's observation to the weather, finding what they noticed about it on the way to kinder- garten; or, if they have been singing " Come, little leaves," the subject of the wind may be brought uppermost easily and naturally through the song. THE WIND AS AN UNSEEN POWER. (The thought in this form is, of course, only for the teacher's mind. No more tlian the impression is to be given to the children; and this will be done by leading them to recall familiar manifestations of the wind's power.) THE TALK. What does the wind do? Plays with the leaves, gets the trees ready for winter, covers the ground with them to help keep the the roots and seeds warm, tells the birds that winter is coming, blows the nuts down from the tall trees in the wood, as well as the apples, pears and other fruits from the orchard trees. (Anecdote of child in an orchard, who sees an apple but is un- able to reach it and asks the wind to bring it to her.) Going back to other than Autumn work, — the wind rocks the birds in the nests, flies kites, drives sailboats, blows the clothes dry, helps the sun dry the ground after rain, and turns the wind- mills which are sometimes used instead of water-mills. Can we hear the wind? Can Ave feel the wind? Can we see the wind? Can we see what the wind does? The Wind at Work. 63 64 IN THE child's WOKLD. THE WIND AS A SOWER OF SEEDS. (Recall some of the previous talks on seeds. Let the children tell that seeds need to be planted; — corn seeds, or we will h;"ve no corn; wheat seeds, or we will have no wheat; flower seeds or no flowers, etc., etc.) What has the farmer been doing lately? Gathering seeds from farm and garden to plant in the spring. What prett}' yellow flower do we find in the grass in the spring? Does the dandelion have seeds? the daisy? the oak tree? Does the farmer go every- where to gather such seeds? But we always have dandelions and daisies. Then they must have been planted. AYho does this? Some one who works and plays, though we never see him. Yes I the wind sows such seeds, — blows them from the plant, carries them along, drops them, blows dust and leaves over them till they are covered and can take root by and by, and come up in the spring when the other seeds do. WHAT THE WINDS BRING. Contrast gentle breezes and wild, boisterous winds. Notice how Mr. Wind sometimes knocks at one window, sometimes at another; — that is, comes from different directions. North Wind coming from the cold countries, tells us to remember ' ' Agoonack," brings ice and snow, is a friend of '' Little Jack Frost.'' South Wind comes from the warm countries, whisjDers of summer, comes from the same land as the oranges and bananas, brings warmth. East Wind comes from the ocean, brings moisture, fog or rain. " West Wind, Best Wind" brings bright, clear weather. AYeather vane useful to tell which wind is blowing. Anecdote of child and weather vane. Child was going on a picnic; weather doubtful; but soon the weather vane turned, showing that the wind had changed, promising good weather. Child happy and grateful. Frcebel's play of the Weather Vane. If preferred these words may,be used instead of other translations: — Tlie Weather Vane is perclied on high, It seems as if it touched tlie sky ! And just the way the Avmds do bh)\v The Wentlier Vane will quickly slu.w. IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. 65 TEACHER'S READING. The Four Winds, / , ,, Hiawatha " ) The White Man's Foot, j ^ iliawaUia ), The Maiden and the Weather Cock, Tlie Windmill, The Winds, / To the Evening Wind, | Sweet and Low, ^ . - What the Winds Bring, The Wind in a Frolic, Earth and Man, . . . Longfellow Longfellow Bryant Tennyson E. C. Stedman William Howitt Guyot STORIES. HOW WEST WIND HELPED DANDELION. There was once a Dandelion plant which grew in the grass just outside a garden fence. The leaves of the plant were thick and green, and its flower (held on rather a high stem, for it was a late blossom) was very full and round, and of the brightest yellow. The Dandelion was usually as happy as a queen — though not because of the golden crown, oh, no! Nor is it the crown which makes the queen happy, if that is what you are thinkingi But the Dandelion was happy in the beautiful world and in her loving, friends, and happy in her work and her play. Who were her friends? Oh! the Sunbeams who came sliding down from the great sun and kept little Dandelion warm, and made her green leaves greener and her yellow flower brighter whenever they came: and the Raindrops who tumbled their little silvery selves down upon her, as if in a great fury sometimes, but only intending a frolic and not really hurting her. They brougtit her all the water she had to drink and bathe in, and Dandelion missed them very much if they stayed long away. The great Winds were her friends, too. Dandelion was just the least bit afraid of them, to tell the truth, and liked them best when they were gentle and quiet, or when they sent their messengers, the little Breezes, to play with her. 66 IN THE CHILD S WOKIJ). Dandelion had friends of another sort, too; little creatures made of niusie, motion, and feathers, — (we call them birds). Insects, too. visited her; — butterflies as yellow as her flower, grasshopi)ers as green as her leaves, bees going a-marketing for houey and ])ollen, ants running nimbly along on their six thread- like legs, and many, many others, down to the tiny, moving, black specks which seemed too small to be alive and yet were as full of life as their larger neighbors. Besides all these friends, Dandelion had some flower friends; the clovers who lived near her on the roadside, and the garden flowers who lived on the other side of the fence. The nearest neighbors among the garden flowers were some morning-glories who had actually climbed over the fence and were as friendly as possible. Dandelion's play was with any of these different friends. Her work was to grow and make seeds, — as many good seeds as she })0ssiljly could. As the long, bright days passed. Dandelion worked faithfully, in a flower's quiet, unseen way of working; and at last her seeds were formed. Instead of the golden crown of a flower which she had worn, her stalk held up a beautiful ball of silvery gauze. The tinv seeds were in this ball and would be ripe very soon. One day Dandelion saw two children. Max and Nannie, walk- ing about in the garden in a very business-like way. When they came to the morning-glory vine, she could hear what they were saying. " Where is the box for the morning-glory seeds. Max?" called the little girl. *' I see ever so many ripe ones." '• Here it is," replied Max, who had been looking in the basket which he carried. ''We must gather a great many morning- glory seeds, for you know we want to plant them all along the fence next year; and we are going to send some to Cousin Fan, too." "Yes, and then she will have the same kind of flowers away off there that we have here," said Nannie, as she poked among the leases and blossoms of the morning-glory vine to find the ])lump seed vessels. Soon she had gathered all the ripe ones, and she jind Max went back up the garden walk and into the house. IN THE child's WORLD. 67 The Dandelion plant pondered on what it had heard. Seeds! Why, Dandelion plants had seeds as well as morning-glory vines! Probably Max and Nannie would come for her seeds. They would soon be ready, — in a few days, surely. The few days passed quickly. Every morning Max and Nannie came out with their basket and little boxes and went to the garden plants, gathering the ripe seeds. But alas! for the hopes of the Dandelion plant! They never looked at her or even thought of her seeds, although they loved dandelions as vrell as any other children. Poor Dandelion felt very much slighted. Why did not Max and Nannie want her seeds to plant next year or to send to Cousin Fan? Who would gather her seeds? She had tried so hard and worked so faithfully, and arranged her seeds so beautifully. Was it all for nothing? Hark! ''Cheer-up! Cheer-up!" sang a robin in the orchard; and a little whispering breeze rustled past her, breathing softly: ''Wait, oh, wait!" "Ah! but what will become of my seeds? No one will gather them and they will all be wasted." The breeze passed on and then came a stronger puff of air. " West Wind is coming," thought Dandelion, trembling a little; and just then' she heard him calling. " What, ho! there, Dandelion! Are you too warm? I will fan you. Are you too wet? I will help you shake the heavy drops from your leaves and flowers." "No," said the Dandelion, "my leaves are not laden with water, nor is my heart parched with heat; but my seeds, my precious seeds are all to be wasted. No one will gather them." "Ho, ho!" laughed W^est Wind, noisily, but kindly. "And what do you wish to have done with your seeds?" " I wish they could be planted next year," said Dandelion, "some of them here, and some of them far away, — just as will be done to the seeds of the garden plants.'' "Ho, ho!" laughed West Wind again, as noisily and kindly as before. " That is an easy matter to arrange. In fact it is arranged. It is one of the things I was to attend to this very morning, if your seeds were ripe." 68 IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. "And have you brought a little box with you ?" asked Dandelion. " Not n " replied West Wind. " I manage differently from the children. I sow the seeds as I gather them, and I also cover them. Then they are all ready to wake up and grow in the early spring." *' Oh! thank you, good West Wind," said Dandelion. " What a kind friend you are!" " It is a part of our work," said West Wind. '' My brothers and I have a great deal of seed-sowing to do in all the forests and fields over the whole earth. But I must not talk any longer. Now, ready! One, two, three, whew! Away they go." 't: y Dandelion heard a merry whistle and felt a sudden strong puff against her. V=^ At the same instant all her seeds were gone. Where the feathery white ball had been there showed now a little bald knob. " Why!" said Dandelion, rather bewil- dered, "how quickly that was done!" She looked about her. Here and there on the grass near her she saw several of her seeds; and then looking farther and yet farther away she could see others whirling and dancing through the air carried along by the friendly seed sowei', AVest Wind. The little silky plumes which each seed wore, and which had made Dandelion ball of silvery gauze, made it easy for the wind to take the seeds as far as Dandelion could wish; and some were also left to grow ■^/ar-' '^^^ right there on the roadside bank, where she herself had alwayslived. Dandelion was very happy. The robin in the orchard sang again his hearty " Cheer-upi Cheer-upJ "and a little breeze which IX THE CHILD S WORLD. 69 followed after AVest Wind whispered softly as before: " WaitI oh, wait!" "Yes," said Dandelion; "there was no need of my worrying. But who would have thought that the great West Wind would take care of the seeds of a plain little Dandelion ! "' Emilie Poulsson. THE DANDELION CYCLE. " Pretty little Goldilocks, shining in the sun. Pray, what will become of you when the summer's done ?" " Then I'll be old Silverhead; for, as I grow old, All my shining hair will be white instead of gold. " And where rests a silver hair that has blown from me, Other little Goldilocks in the Spring you'll see! " Goldilocks to Silverhead, Silverhead to gold, So the change is going on every year, I'm told." E. P ODYSSEUS AND THE BAG OF WINDS. Far-famed Odysseus was on his way across the sea, to his home in rocky Ithaca, when he came to the island of ^Eolia. Many had been his wanderings, by sea and land, since he had left his own fair dwelling, and most welcome was the sight of this friendly shore. Here lived the great King of the winds — ^Eolus — who could send gentle zephyrs murmuring over the sea, and could call back the wild tempests when they played too roughly with the waves. Well might Odysseus and his companions rejoice at coming to the wonderful floating island of King ^Eolus, for here they were kindly treated, after their toils and troubles, and when the time came for them to start once more on their way iEolus stowed in their boat gifts and provisions of all kinds for their voyage. One of these gifts was very strange in its appearance — a great bulging sack, as large as an ox; in fact it was made of an ox's skin — tied tightly about with a cord of shining silver. This ("O l.V 'JHE child's would. ^Eolus placed carefully in the boat, and taking Odysseus aside told him that in this skin he had bound uptiie blustering winds, so that no storms should disturb the calm of the ocean, and drive the little boat oat of her course. If, however, Odysseus should at any time be in need of a powerful blast to carry the boat swiftly away from some dangerous coast, or from some enemy, he was to open the bag with great caution and, letting out only the wind he wished, to close it again quickly, and bind it fast with the silver cord. When^Eolus had bidden farewell to Odys- seus and his crew, he sent a gentle west wind after them, to bear them prosperously on their way. Day after day they sailed peacefully over the gleaming ocean, the soft gale bearing them along, while Odysseus managed the sail, and kept watch night and day. On the tenth day Odysseus was lying asleep in the boat, resting from his labors, when the sailors began talking among themselves of the mysterious-look- ing bag. "It must be full of treasures," said they, *' and why should not we have our share of them?" Speaking thus foolishly, they finally decided to open the bag. They loosed the silver cord, but they needed to do no more, for the boisterous winds at once burst forth, and in a twinkling had lashed the quiet waves into foam, and whirled the boat far out of her course. The helmsman could do nothing, since the boat no longer obeyed the rudder, and even Odysseus, awakened by the commotion, was powerless against these roaring, whistling winds that tossed the little boat hither and thither at their will. At last Odysseus and his men, driven far from their native shores, saw land once again. The foolish sailors were glad enough to pull the boat up on the beach, and in safety once more to build their fire and i:)repare a comfortable meal. Many days and years went by before Odysseus at last reached his home. He had many adventures after this, but when he dwelt in pe:ice and quiet at last, in the home from which he had been absent so long, he was always fond of telling the story of the bag of winds given him by King ^Eolus, and of the great disaster brought upon his sailors and himself by their foolish curiosity. F. H. IN THE child's WORLD. 71 THE NORTH WIND AT PLAY. (From the German.) Once upon a time, in a, house under a hill, lived ^Eolus and his four sons: North Wind, South Wind, East Wind and West Wind. One day North Wind s.iid to iiis father: *' May I go out to play?" " Oh, yes I'' said his father, " if you don't stay too long." Then away ran North Wind with a merry shout and song, banging the door behind him. As he ran along the road he saw in the orcliard a beautiful tree upon which were green apples. "OhI come and play with me," said North Wind. '•Come and play with me ! " "Oh, no!" said the tree; "I must stay q^uite still and help the apples to grow, else they will not be large and round and red in the autumn for the little children. Oh, no. North Wind, I cannot go.'' " Puff!" said the North Wind— and down all the apples fell to the ground. The next thing North Wmd saw was a beautiful waving field of corn. " Oh! come and play with me! Oh! come and play witli me!" said North Wind. "No, no!" said the corn; "I must stand quite still and grow. If you will look under this beautiful green silk you will see some little kernels lying. These must grow big and yellow to be ground into meal to make golden pudding for the children. So you see I cannot go to play." At this the North Wind sighed — " Ah-ha-a-a!" and the corn lay down on the ground. Running along. North Wind saw a lily growing under a window. '•' Oh, you lovely lily ! come and play with me," said North Wind. " I cannot," said the lily, gently; " I have to stay here because the farmer's little girl is n6t at all well, and I am her friend, and '^'Z IN THE child's world. «very morning she comes and smiles down at me and I smile back again. I am sure she would miss me very much if I should go; so I must stay here, dear North Wind." Xorth Wind touched her very gently, — but she hung her head and never again looked up. Now the farmer went out to work, and when he saw the corn and the apple tree, he said: "Ahl Mr. North Wind has been here!'' But when he went home, his little girl told him about the lily. And the farmer said: " I'll go right up to Mr. ^Eolus and tell him all about iti" So away he went; and he said: '' Good morning, Mr. ^Eolus. Your boy. North Wind, has been down my way; and he has blown the apples from the trees, and the corn is lying down on the ground; but, worse than this, he has hurt my little girl's lily!" "Ah!" said Mr. -iEolus, ''I am very sorry. I will speak to North Wind when he comes in." And then the farmer went home. By and by in came North Wind. " My boy," said J^^olus, " the farmer has been here, and he has told me all the harm which you have done." And tlien tlie father told North Wind the story of the apples and the corn and the lily. " Oh, well," said North Wind, " I know I did it; but I didn't mean to. I just meant to have a little fun with the apple tree; but when I said ' Puif-f-f ' all the apples fell down! And it was just the same with the corn; it lay down before I knew that I had hurt it. As for the lily, that was the loveliest thing you ever saw, father; I only kissed it when I came away." " I believe that what you tell me is true, my boy; but if you cannot help being so rough and rude when you play, you must go out only when the farmer has gathered the apples and corn, and when the flowers have been taken safely into the house. When the snow is on the ground, you and Jack Frost may have fine frolics together." As told by Harriet Ryan. THE PIGEONS. To THE Teachek: — In " Birds of America" — Audubon's wonderful book — may be found detailed descriptions of all the doves and pigeons known. Much of this detailed description does not concern us; but I have gleaned a few facts which may not be too familiar to us all. The pigeon or dove almost invariably builds a loose, exposed nest, out of which eggs and birds often drop. Many pigeons will build nests in the same tree; doves will not. This seems to be the only difference noted between pigeons and doves. Some doves are found only in the tropics. The Carolina dove is found from Louisiana to Middle Massachusetts; while the Passenger pigeon lives everywhere in the United States except the southern tip of Florida, and is well known in Newfoundland. The average speed of the Passenger pigeon is a mile a minute; and it has equally remarkable power of vision, as shown by its sighting food from immense distances. From fifty to one hundred or more nests are often found in one tree. Audubon says that the constancy and devotion of the dove to its mate and its young are not excelled by any other creatures; so that we rightly use this beautiful bird as the emblem of love and gentleness. THE TALK. (Points of connection between this subject and the preceding ones of " The AVind " and " Seeds " will readily suggest them- selves. The farmer has gathered the seeds from the farm and garden, the wind has taken them from the trees and plants in other places. Cold weather is coming; so the birds have, most of them, flown away to warmer countries where they can find food in plenty.) Have the children seen any birds lately, — canaries, sparrows, pigeons? 74 IN Tlili; CIJII.U'S WOKLD. Where do pigeous live? Wild ones in the woods; build very loose nests — (show with hands); tame ones in a pigeon house in the top of the barn; sometimes on a pole in the farmyard. The pigeon lays two pure white eggs. Can tly far and fast — a mile a minute. How does it sleep? Roosts on a branch, if wild; on a stick in pigeon house, if tame. Why does it not fall ofE ? Toes hold it firmly. Find out how many toes in front; how many behind. Watch the pigeons on the street, or ask father or mother about it. (Play the game of tlie Pigeon House and talk it over.) When we let the pigeons out of the pigeon house, Avhere do you think they will fly? Where does the song say they will fly? Will they find something to eat? Yes; what the farmer has not gathered, and what the wind has dropped and not covered up — especially seeds of grains. What do you think they talk to each other about when they go home again? (Try to give the children the idea of sharing experiences.) What does the pigeon say? "Coo, cool " A louii noise? No; always soft and gentle. Do we love to hear the pigeons? Do we love to hear people speak gently? Whenever we see the pigeons, or play "The Pigeon House,'* let us remember how gentle and loving these little birds are. VERSE FOR CHILDREN. Happy as a robin, Gentle as a dove — That's the sort of little child Every one will love. The Pigeox House. 76 IN THE child's "WORLD. TEACHER'S READING. Daddy Darwin's Dove Cote, . . . . Mrs. Ewing Hilda and the Doves ("Marble Faun "), - - - Uawthorne The Doves, ------- Mrs. Broioniniy The Belfry Pigeon, N. P. Willi.'i The White Pigeon, ------ Miss Edgeicorth FOR THE CHILDREN". Birds and their Nests. From "Kindergarten Gems." STORIES. THE FANTAIL PIGEON. *'I "wonder Avhy I am not "wise !" said the little "vyhite fantail pigeon, sadly. " It seems to me I am not good for anything at all. The hens lay eggs for our mistress's breakfast; the cows give milk to drink and to be made into butter and cheese; the turkey- cock will be fatted for Christmas, he says, and will be served on a big dish, with a string of sausages all round him; that will be grand! The pigs will be made into pork, but I am good for nothing. The thrush and the blackbird can sing beautifully, and the owl is wiser than all the other birds. I cannot sing and I am not at all wise. Ginger, the cat, catches the rats and mice; Monarch, tlie dog, guards the house. But I cannot catch rats and mice, and how could a pigeon keep guard?" Poor little white pigeon I What was she to do? I am sure you must feel sorry for her. It is so very sad to be of no use in the world. " I will go to the owl," said she. "He is the wisest of all the birds. Perhaps he will teach me how to be of use." The owl lived in a hollow tree behind the farmyard. All day long he sat in his tree and blinked, for the sunshine hurt his eyes. That was because he was so wise, the other birds said. But when IN THE CHILD S WORLD. the sun went down and the world grew dark and still the owl came out from his hollow tree and flew about. He had a hooked beak and his eyes were large and round; he looked very solemn and severe, as was proper for the wisest of all the birds. The white pigeon flew up to the hollow tree and bent her head humbly before the owl. The wise old bird blinked twice, but said nothing, because his words were so precious. " Pray, sir," said the pigeon, " may I speak to you? " The owl blinked ngain, which if it did not mean ''yes," at any rate did not mean ''no."' So the pigeon went on: " Sir, you are very wise and I am very foolish. I am very unhappy because I know nothing and am good for nothing. Please, sir, will you help me?" The owl said nothing at all for a long time. The little white pigeon sat on a bough and waited. She said to herself: " He is slow, but that is certainly because he is so kind as to think very hard about some way to help me." So she waited patiently, long past the time when Jeggo gave all the birds in the farmyard their supper. Then the sun went down, and the owl opened his large, round eyes and looked at the little whito pigeon. " Now," said she, " he is going to speak; " and her heart beat fast with hope and excitement. "I am wise," said the owl; "you are foolish." Then he waited so long that the little pigeon ventured to put him in mind that he was speaking. " Yes, sir," said she; " what can I do?" " You must make the best of it," said the owl, and spreading his large, browny-white wings he flew away into the darkness, calling out: " Too-whit, too-whoo." " He has certainly much wisdom," said the little white pigeon. ' ' But I do not see what is the good of it, if he keeps it all for himself like that. I want to know how to make the best of it." And home she went again feeling sadder than ever. Next day the little white pigeon was still very miserable, and instead of flying down as usual when her mistress came into the yard, she hid in a corner and hung her head. So the mistress went away, feeling sad and anxious; for she thought one of her pets was lost. 78 IN THE child's WORLD. Now the old drake had a very kind heart, and watched over all the animals in the farmyard. He knew that the little white pigeon was unhappy, and made up his mind to find out what was amiss, and set it right if possible. He was a clever old bird, and had seen a deal of the world, for he was nearly three years old. He sent a message to the pigeon to say he wanted to see her, and she came at once. No one ever thought of disobeying the old drake. ** What is wrong with you, little pigeon?" said he, kindly. " The sun shines; peas and Indian corn are plentiful, and you are not moulting; yet for three days you have done nothing but mope and look miserable. Come, now, and tell me what is the matter." *' I am of no use in the world," said the little pigeon, sadly. " All the other birds and animals are good for something, but I am good for nothing." "Oh! silly bird," said the old drake. " How can you say you are of no use in the world? Everything that is made is, and must be, of some use in the world. Some are strong and can do much work, like Short, the horse Avho draws the heavy cart. Some have the gift of teaching others, and that is what they are good for. Some have beautiful voices to listen to, and others beautiful feathers to look at. It is true that the turkey is good to eat and that the hen can lay eggs; it is true that the owl is wise and the blackbird can sing; but which of them all has such a pretty white tail and such nice pink feet as you?" " I forgot all about my tail," said the little pigeon. "Just so," said the old drake. "You forgot what you had, in fretting for what you had not. Nay, you even neglected your gift and let your pretty Avhite tail get all dirty and crumpled. So it happened that our mistress went away sad this morning, because her little white bird did not come to greet her. Go away home, little pigeon, and do not be miserable any more. Make the best of what you can do, and never mind the things you cannot do." Then the little pigeon thanked the old. drake for his good advice. She went home and put her feathers tidy, and I need IN THE child's WORLD. T9 hardly tell you that next day the mistress did not look in vain for her pretty, white pet. Mary Dendy. '^Lesson Stories,''^ the Sunday School Association, London. PEARL AND HER PIGEONS. When Pearl was seven years old her brother Freddie gave her two pretty white pigeons. The little girl was as happy as a queen when she saw her pretty pets. She named one Dot and the other Phil. Pearl loved dearly to jilay with them, but she did not like to keep them shut up in a cage. Sometimes she would open the window and say to them: '' Fly away, my dearies, and phiy with other birds! I do not wish to keep you here this beautiful morning." They would flutter their wings joyously, peck her hand, and make a funny little noise which sounded very much like "good-bye, sweet mistress! We will return soon, and tell you all about the sunny world, and what the birds are doing." When Pearl want out into the garden to pull flowers, or give her dollies a ride the pigeons would come to her and light upon her head; and sometimes they would poke their bills into her mouth for a kiss. She fed them with crumbs from her hand, and every morning she gave them some fresh, sparkling water to bathe in. Phil called Dot his little wife, and he often invited her to take a walk with him. When Dot was not busy she went with him. In the l)eautiful springtime Dot laid five white eggs and sat on them till the wee birds crept out. Dot and Phil were as happy as they could be, and so proud of their little family! Pearl put crumbs enough for all beside the nest, which pleased Mother Dot very much. Then she would sit down beside the cage and watch the mother-pigeon patiently teaching the little ones to eat. Pearl often heard the mother-bird putting her little family to sleep; and she would say to her darling baby brother: '^ Listen, dear! I hear the mother-pigeon cooing softly to her little ones. Helen A. Keller. 80 IN THE child's WORLD. THE CONSTANT DOVE. The white dove sat on the sunny eaves, And " What will you do when the north wind grieves ? " She said to the busy nut-hatch small, Tapping above in the gable tall. He probed each crack with his slender beak, And much too busy was he to speak; Spiders, that thought themselves safe and sound, And moths, and flies, and cocoons, he found. Oh! but the white dove she was fair! Bright she shone in the autumn air, Turning her head from the left to right — Only to watch her was such delight ! " Coo!" she murmured, "poor little thing, What will you do when the frosts shall sting ? Spiders and flies will be hidden or dead, Snow underneath and snow overhead." Nut-hatch paused in his busy care; "And what will you do, O white dove fair '?" " Kind hands feed me with crumbs and grain. And I wait with patience for spring again." He laughed so loud that his laugh I heard ; " How can you be such a stupid bird ? What are your wings for, tell me, pray, But to bear you from tempest and cold away ? " Merrily off to the south I '11 fly. In search of the summer, by and by. And warmth and beauty I '11 find anew; white dove fair, will you follow, too ? " But she cooed content on the sunny eaves. And looked askance at the reddening leaves; While low I whispered, " O white dove true, 1 '11 feed you, and love you the winter through !" Celia Thaxteb. Eovghton, Mifflin & Co. THE DOVE AND THE ANT. The Ant, compelled by thirst, went to drink iu a clear, purling- rivulet; but the current, with its circling eddy, snatched her away, and carried her down the stream. A Dove, ])ir.ying her distressed ijsr THE child's world. 81 condition, cropped a branch from a neighboring tree, and let it fall into the water, by means of which the Ant saved herself, and got ashore. Not long after a fowler, having a design upon the Dove, planted his nets in due order, without the bird's observing what he was about; which the Ant perceiving, just as he was going to put his design in execution, she bit him on the heel, and made him give so sudden a start that the Dove took the alarm, and flew away. ^Esop. A TRUE PIGEON STORY. A gentleman had two pairs of pigeons living in dovecotes placed side by side. In each pigeon family there was a father and mother-bird and two little ones. On a certain day the parents in one dovecote went away to get food, and while they were gone one of their little birds fell out of the dovecote and down to the ground. The poor baby bird was not much hurt, strange to say, but it could not get back for it was too young to fly. Now the parents in the other dovecote were at home when this happened and it seemed as if they said to themselves: ''' One of our babies might fall out in just that same way. We must do some- thing to make the dovecote safer." And then this wise, careful father and mother went to work. They flew about until they found some small sticks. These they carried to their own dove- cote and there in the doorway they built a cunning little fence of sticks! Not so high but that the baby pigeons could look over it, but high enough to keep them from ever falling out of the dovecote as their little neighbor had done. The owner of the pigeons, who had seen the birdling fall and had put it back inta its dovecote, watched the birds the whole time as they gathered the sticks and built the little fence across the doorway. This is a true story and it is often told to some children in Boston by a lady who knows the owner of these very pigeons. M. P. THE BAKER. To THE Teachek: Froebel believed that " Pat-a-cake " and similar ji;ames " arose because people felt that the cultivation of the child's love of activity and his striv- ing to get the use of his limbs ought to be carried on in such a way as to lift him at once into the complexity of his outside life." Thus, in the "Pat-a-cake" play, instead of the simple relation of need and supply between child and mother — the child needing food and the mother giving it — the child is shown another "link of the great chain of life's inner dependence," in the baker who bakes the bread and cake which the mother gives to the child. "Whenever opportunity occurs," says Froibel, "make this inner dependence of life clear, visible, impressive, tangible and perceptible to your child, even though it be in only a few of the essential links of this great chain, until you come to the last ring that holds all the rest — God's father-love for all." Of course, in foreign countries, where it is common for the mother to prepare bread and cake, etc., and send it to the baker to have it baked, the relation is closer; but even in this country the baker is near to the child's life. Food being a primary necessity, the baker, the miller and the farmer who are the providers of food, are among the first of the ■■world's workers which the kindergarten brings to the child's notice. THE TALK. Some of tlie children liave dear little babies in their homes. What does baby play? Does baby play " Pat-a-cake?" ' Shall we play it? (After playing baby's ''Pat-a-cake," — the old Mother Goose rhyme, — teach the children the kindergarten jilay, "Now, my child," etc., which is, after all, only an extension of the same idea and principle.) Thk Baker. 83 IN THE €HILI> S WORLD. Recall a little of the talk with the children about the jiigeons, and speak especially about the food. The point to be brought out is that the pigeon's food is ready for it, whereas the child's food, our food, must generally be prepared. The pigeon likes grains of wheat. Do we like grains of wheat? Tell some of the things we do like to eat; meat, potatoes, bread, etc., etc. Where does the bread come from? From the baker. Where did the baker get his flour? From the miller. Where did the miller get the wheat to grind? From the farmer. So the story of the bread is quite a long story, isn't it? And tells of a great many workers. Sometimes the mother makes the bread instead of buying it at the baker's. Have any of the children seen their mothers make bread? Who can tell how she does it, and what she uses? W^hat kind of an oven does she bake the bread in? Have the children ever been to a baker's shop? What does the baker make? What kind of an oven does he have? A very, very large one; as large as a small room (eight feet by ten feet). He uses something like a big shovel with a long handle when he puts the loaves into the oven or takes them out. The baker also uses a large mixing trough instead of a bread pan; long, smooth table instead of bread board; rolling-pins, cooky cutters, baking tins, etc., etc. The baker must build a fire and heat his oven before the bread -can be baked. (Speak a little upon the usefulness of fire. If advisable, more links of the chain of dependence could be disclosed here, in the wood chopper and the miner whose work prepares the wood and scoal for the baking of th^e bread.) liNT THE child's WORLD. 85 TEACHER'SREADING. Each and All, - - - - - - R. W. Emerson Daily Bread, (Sermon 1879), - - - - E. E. Hale Daily Bread, (Stories), - - - - - E. E. Hale FOR THE CHILDREN. Amy Stewart, ) ^^u Kindersjarten Stories and Morning The Little Cookie Boy, > ^ ^ ,, ,,7 ^ _, ,„.,, The Baker, ( Talks"), - - - S. E. Wiltse STORIES. THE JOHNNY CAKE, Little Sarah, she stood by her grandmother's bed, "'And what shall I get for your breakfast?" she said. "You shall get me a johnny cake; quickly go make it. In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it." So Sarah, she went to the closet to see If yet any meal in the barrel might be. The barrel had long time been empty as wind; Not a si)eck of the bright yellow meal could she find. But grandmother's johnny cake — still she must make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. She ran to the shop, but the shopkeeper said, "I have none — you must go to the miller, fair maid. For he has a mill, and he '11 put the corn in it, And grind you some nice yellow meal in a minute; But run, or the johnny cake, how will you make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it ?" Then Sarah, she ran everj"^ step of the way, But the miller said, " No, I have no meal to-day; Run, quick, to the cornfield, just over the hill. And if any be there, you may fetch it to mill. Run, run, or the johnny cake, how will you make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?" SQ IN THK child's WORLD. Then Sarah looked round, and she saw what was wanted: The corn could not grow, for no corn had been planted. She asked of the farmer to sow her some grain, But the farmer he laughed till his sides ached again; "Ho! ho! for the johnny cake — how can you make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it "?" The farmer he laughed, and he laughed out aloud — "And how can I plant till the earth has been ploughed ? Run^ run to the ploughman, and bring him with speed; He'll plough up the ground, and I'll fill it with seed." Away, then, ran Sarah, still hoping to make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. The ploughman he ploughed, and the grain it was sown, And the sun shed his rays till the corn was all grown. It was ground at the mill, and again in her bed These words to poor Sarah the grandmother said : " You shall get me a johnny cake, (juickly go make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it."' Anonymous. THE CHINA RABBIT FAMILY. Mrs. China Rabbit and her four little rabbits were very much crowded. They lived in a small pasteboard box, and there was scarcely room for their legs and paws. As for their long ears — why, Mrs. China Rabbit and Hoppit actually had to poke theirs through the broken corners of the topi " Be patient, my children," the mother would say. '' This cannot last always; and we ought to be thankful that we have this soft cotton to lie on, at any rate."' It is no wonder that the little China Rabbits grumbled. How would you like to live in a house so small that you had to lie just the way you would fit in best, whether it was comfortable or not? The shabby pasteboard box filled with the China Rabbits was in a toy shop. Furthermore, the toy shop was near Baby Bun's house. More than that, Baby Bun's mamma went into the toy shop one day. And, best of all, she bought the whole China Rabbit family! IN THE child's WORLD. 87 When she reached home she gave them to the cook; and the cook smiled and nodded, and said: "Oh, yes'm! I'll do it with pleasure for the little boy, bless his heart! " and she imme- diately went to work to bake a cake. Mrs. China Rabbit and Houpit and the other China Rabbits were soon taken out of their crowded house. The cook gave them a good bath, and then she put each in a bed of cake dough, in a tiny tin, and set all the tins in the oven. When the oven door was shut, and the cook could not hear, Mrs. China Rabbit called out: " Hoppit, my child?" "Here I am, mother!" said Hoppit. "Is Chubby here?'' said Mrs. China Rabbit. " Yes; here I am," said Chubby. " And Johnny Jumper? " " Yes," .Johnny Jumper answered,, and so also did Tiny, the baby. " This is well," said Mrs. China Rabbit. " Are you all com- fortable?" "Oh! it is delightful!" said the children. As the cakes began to bake, however, Mrs. China Rabbit and the children found it rather warm. They had never felt such heat. They almost wished themselves back in the pasteboard box. " For, at least, the ventilation was good!" gasped Hoppit. Just as they thought they would die of the heat, the oven door opened with a clang. "They're Just done beautiful!" they heard the cook say, and soon all the little cakes were cooling on the pantry shelf, and the China Rabbit family quickly revived. " Shall we live here always, mother?" asked Chubby. " I do not know, my dear," said Mrs. China Rabbit; "but let us enjoy it while we may. These are sweet little homes." "Yes, I've tasted mine," said Johnny Jumper, smacking his lips. At this all the China Rabljits begun to nibble the cake. " No one Avill grudge us a little lunch, I am sure," the mother said. Very soon the cook jiut the cakes upon a pretty plate and sent them to the nursery. Baby and his brothers and sisters were having a tea party; and when the children had eaten their bread and butter, they each had one of the "fairy cakes," as Baby's; mamma called them. "Oh! there's something hard in my cake! " said Baby, who fe8 IX THE GUILDS WORLD. had taken a big bite. ''So there is in minel'' "And minel" "And mine!" shouted the other children. You know what they had found, don't you ? Yes! Of course it was Mrs. China Rabbit, and Hoppit, and Chubby, and Johnny Jumper, and Tiny! And the China Rab- bit family lived happily ever after among the other playthings in the nursery toy closet. Emilie Poulsson. TEDDY'S BIRTHDAY CAKE. Outline/or Simple Htory. Teddy's birthday — little friends invited. Mamma's plan of /jirthday cake, wiih as many candles on it as Teddy is 3"ears old. Eggs, flour, butter, sugar, milk, all ready to mix. Mamma looks at oven, finds stove broken so that oven could not bake the cake nicely. Is puzzled to know what to do; cannot bear to disappoint Teddy; thinks of the baker, mixes cake and takes it to the bakery. Leaves it; baker watches it as it bakes, takes it out with his long shovel. When Mamma goes to the bakery for it, she pays and thanks the baker. Enjoyment of the cake. Mamma tells how the kind baker helped her out of her trouble. E. P. NERO AT THE BAKERY. " There! " said the Baker, as he took the last loaf of bread out of the oven, "that's as handsome a batch of bread as ever was baked. I'll take it right upstairs to the store." Very soon little Sophie came into the bakery and said, "My mother wants a loaf of fresh bread, please." "Here it is," said the Baker, "just fresh from the oven. It will keep your hands warm all the way home." So saying he wrapped the bread in a brown paper and handed it to the little ^irl, wlio then gave him the money for it. IN THE child's WORLD. 89 As she opened the door to go out, a big dog walked in, — a great shaggy fellow with a basket in his mouth. He was all alone, but he evidently knew just what to do. Sophie stopped to look, for she had never known a dog to go to the store before. ♦'Why, here is Nero! Good dogi Good Nero!" said the Baker. "Have you come for the bread?" Nero walked to the Baker and held his head up, as if to offer the basket. In the basket was the money for a loaf of bread. The Baker put the money in the money drawer and then waited to see what the dog would do. Nero looked at him as if surprised, and then gave a sharp '' Bow-wow! " "Well, it is too bad to tease such a good dog as you are — here's your bread,"' said the Baker, taking down a loaf. He wrapped it in paper and placed it in the basket and the dog wagged his tail with delight. Then, taking his basket again, he stalked out of the door which Sophie held open and walked up the street. Sophie's home lay in the same direction, so she walked on behind Nero and saw him walk steadily along and then cross the street and go into the house where a lady was watching for him. "Guess what I saw at the bakery!" said Sophie when she reached home. Her mother and father and the children guessed and guessed. Pies, cakes, cookies, rolls, biscuits, doughnuts, buns, gingerbread, gingerbread men, muffins — yes, Sophie had seen all these, but they were not what she meant. At last when all the things usually seen in a bakery had been guessed, Sophie told about Nero, the clever dog who had bought a loaf of bread. Emilie Poulsson. THANKSGIVING DAY. To THE Teacher: — This subject has many important sides. It is a harvest feast, a day for giving tlianks, a festival of family reunions, aday of interesting historical origin, a purely American holiday and therefore a time for instilling and cultivating patriotic feeling. Can we compass all these aspects of the subject with the children? Surely not, if we depend on the morning talk and story alone, or if we have not prepared the way. But the farmer and the harvest are already familiar; the children's hearts and voices are attuned to hymns of grati- tude and songs of family love; and we have worked towards patriotism by taking loving notice of our beautiful flag, by singing " My Country, 'tis of Thee," cheering the red, white and blue, etc. Therefore the many- sidedness of the subject is not so much an objection as might at first appear, but rather offers a valuable opportunity for recalling and deep- ening impressions; — each teacher emphasizing particularly that aspect of the subject which is most desirable for her pupils. The Thanksgiving Day of the Pilgrims, with the Indians sharing their feast, is a beautiful story; but it is so admirably told in Mrs. Wiggin's book, "The Story Hour," and is besides so familiar, that I have not attempted to retell it; but have chosen instead the local story*, which may not be quite so well known, although Mr. Hale has told it in bis own delightful fashion in his church in Boston on Thanksgiving Day. THE TALK. Do you remember that the baker was the worker we talked of hist week? What other workers can you name? What did the farmer do in the autumn? Gathered seeds to * ■' ' The Governor,' says Mather, ' was the Joseph unto whom the whole body of the people repaired when the corn failed them, and he continued relieving of them with his open-handed bounties as long as he had any stock.' When his last batch of bread was in his oven he gave ' the last handful of meal in his barrel to a poor man depressed by the wolf at the door.' At that moment they ' spied a ship arrived at the harbor's mouth laden with provisions for them all.' A day of thanksgiving for this ship's arrival was held on the 22d of February— the first Thanksgiving Day recorded by the Puritans of the Bay colony." IX THE child's world. 91 save for next year; yes, and gathered in his harvest. (Children name seeds; and name fruits, and vegetables, etc., harvested for winter.) How happy and thankful the farmer feels when he tliinks of his cellar stored with apples, potatoes, etc., for his family all winter; and of his barns full of hay and oats and corn, etc., for the animals. And because harvest time brings all these things, and is so joyful, people thought it would be the best time to have a special day for giving thanks to God. Now let us sing the Thanksgiving song, and jilay that this is Thanksgiving Day and that we are all at grandmother's house. How glad we are to see her and grandfather and all the uncles and aunts and cousins! We run into the kitchen and peep into the big oven — an old-fashioned one, very much like the one the baker has. Oh I how good everything smellsl And there is the big turkey! — isn't he a monster? What else is being prepared for dinner? (Children always sing with unction: — " Hurrah for the fun, Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!" But we do not want them to think of the good things merely as eatables. A hint of the right way to talk of the dinner is found in the fact that the Thanksgiving feast was formerly intended to show forth some of everything that had been raised on the farm, thus representing the bounteousness of the whole harvest for which the thanks were given.) Soon we go to church. We sit nicely and do not talk, and we sing as well as we can. (Sing some song expressing thanks. This will be the time to make " the spiritual meaning of the day bright and clear.'' Direct the children's thoughts to causes for thankfulness — universal and special — and to showing thank- fulness by deed as well as by word. When the regular playtime comes, let it be the afternoon merry-making at grandmother's.) y-2 IX THE GUILDS WOULD. TEACHER'S READING. Pilgrims aud Puritans, ------ Moore The Old New-England Home, - Christian Union, November, 1891 Things that Hinder Thankfulness (Sermon), - - Minot J. Savage Love of Country (" Great Thoughts for Little Thinkers"), ------ Lucia T. Ames The Pilgrim Fathers, ------ Remans "Come, Ye Thankful People, Come," - . - - Hymn For an Autumn Festival, ------ Whittier The Pumpkin, ------- Whittier A Tardy Thanksgiving, - - - - - M. E. Wilkins Getting Ready for Thanksgiving, - - - bt. Nicholas, 1879 Peter Crisp's Spectacles (" New Lights on Old Paths "), Charles Foster FOR THE CHILDREN. The First Thanksgiving Day (" The Story Hour " ), - K. D. Wir/gin Thanksgiving Story ("Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks"), - - - - - - - S. E. WUtse Peggy's Thanksgiving Visitor (" Stories for Kindergarten and Home"), - - - - - - M. L. Van Kirk Chusey, the Thanksgiving Turkey (" A New Years Bargain"), ------ Susan CooUdge IN THE child's WORLD. 03 STORIES. A BOSTON THANKSGIVING STORY. Once upon a time Boston, unci indeed this whole land, was covered witli trees instead of houses; and there were no streets, no stores, no churches, no big buildings of any kind. Yet people lived here — In- dians — who loved to live in the woods. There were no carpenters among the Indians, so they did not build real houses, but had tents or wigwams. By and by som.e people like us came to this land; but as they came in winter the farmers could not plant anything, the ground being frozen; and so the miller had no wheat to grind into flour, and the baker had no flour to make bread of, and there was very little for the people to eat. They had fish, and clams, and such things, but often had to go hungry. A ship, which they had sent across the great ocean to luring them more provisions, had been gone so long that it seemed as if it must be lost; and the poor, hungry people did not know what they should do. One day some of the little South Boston boys were at play on a hill near the water, and they saw a ship sailing toward the land. They knew that the ship would bring plenty of food for all the hungry people, so away they ran to tell their fathers and mothers and the neighbors about it. Can't you imagine how glad they were to spread such joyful news? Very soon the ship came to shore and was unloaded. (Let the children tell what the ^^hip probably brought, and get them to imagine how busy the mothers were, cooking and baking for the hungry ])eop]^; and how glad they all were to have enough to eat again.) ^4 IN^ THK child's world. Yes! the people were so glad that they wanted to thank the Heavenly Father; and they said: " Let us have a day for giving thanks." So they had a Thanksgiving Day. They went to church and thanked God for all his goodness, and then had a joyful time at home. Other people who had come to America had special days for giving thanks; they finally all agreed to keep the same day. And so for a long time we have had the one general Thanks- giving Day over the whole land. E. P. HOW PATTY GAVE THANKS. Ah! how snug it was in the barn that cold November night! Earmer Gray shut all the doors as if it were winter weather, and then went away glad to think that the animals were warm and com- fortable for the night. No sooner had the sound of his foot- steps died away than a Cow raised her head and gave a faint bellow. "^Newsl" said she, ''News! Something beautiful happened to me to-day. It was just before I was turned out into the field this morning. Little Patty came running up to me and began to stroke my forehead. 'You good old cow!' said she; 'I had some milk to drink at breakfast and I know who gave it to me, and so I have come to say thank you. Mother told me this morning that this was " Thank-you " day;" and then the dear child put a delicious apple into my mouth and laughed to hear me crunch it! I am so glad that my milk is good and rich. And she thanked me for butter and cream and for her papa's •cheese, too, — the grateful child!"' "You say well, Neighbor Cow; a grateful child she is," said the farm Horse. "I was in the stall just before they harnessed me to take the family to church, and little Patty came to see me, too; and she thanked me for all the rides she had had on my back and in the haycart, and for dragging the plough and for bringing the flour from the mill. Then, bless her heart! she reached up and gave me a big mouthful of sweet-smelling hay. I tell you, I '11 trot my prettiest the next time I have her in the. Patty Thanking Old Bob. 95 96 IN THE child's would. carriage!" Bob gave a pleased whinny as he said this, and, as if in response, a noise came from the sheep barn. The sheep barn joined the hirger barn, and at the doorway between stood a mild-faced sheep, who began to speak in her own way. " So little Patty went to you, too, did she? I can tell you I was surprised when she brought me and the rest of the flock an extra dish of salt this morning, ' This is to say, thank you, good Sheep,' said she. 'We talked about you in the kinder- garten and I know that our worsted balls are made of your wool, and my new mittens, and my flannel petticoat, and my winter coat and dress, and Jackie's clothes, and the blankets — and oh, so many things! How funny you would look with them all on your back! ' Then she felt of my wool and patted me with her gentle little hand. I do hope that my fleece will be a good heavy one this year, and how I wish that the wool might be used for little Patty!" " Well, well!" said the Cow, "the child did make it a real ' Thank-you day,' I am sure; for besides thanking me, and you, Bob, and you, Mrs. Fleecy, I heard the Hens saying to-day that she had been showering corn down for them by the double handful and saying 'thank you ' for the eggs which they had given her. She told them that she liked the eggs for break- fast, and that her mamma made cake with them, too. I wonder what put it into her head to come and thank us all." "It was her good little heart that put it into her head," said Bob, wisely; " and I think I know the reason why she came to- day, for as I was trotting along the road to and from church, I heard the family talking a good deal about to-day being Thanks- giving Day. And when Patty's grandpajja asked her if she knew why Thanksgiving Day was kept, she said: * Oh, yes! It is the day to say "thank you " for everything, and that is why I hurried out to the barn this morning.'" "And to whom did you say 'thank you' out there?" asked her grandpapa. " Why, to all of them" answered Patty; " to Bob and Moolly cow, and the sheep and the hens." "Very good," said Grandpapa, "very good indeed, little Thankful-heart. I am glad you thought of the kind, useful IN THE child's AVORLD. 97 creatures from whom we get so many things for our pleasure and comfort." As Bob repeated what Patty's grandpapa had said, sober Mrs. Fleecy gave a little caper of delight, and Moolly Cow heaved a sigh of deep satisfaction. Kind, grateful words are pleasant to any ears. It was now bedtime and the animals began to settle them- selves for their night's rest. Mrs. Fleecy went back to her woolly companions in the sheep barn; Moolly cow sank down restfully in her stall; and Bob, after stamping and tramping a few times, bent his long legs under him and lay down upon his fresh straw bedding. But before they went to sleep they spoke again of how happy dear little Patty had made them with her thanks and her gifts. Emilie Poulsson. A MORNING THANKSGIVING. For this new raornin