















No. 106.

OCTOBER, 1875

Vol. XVIII.

THE NURSERY

_A Monthly Magazine_

FOR YOUNGEST READERS.

BOSTON: JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 BROMFIELD STREET. AMERICAN NEWS Co., 119
NASSAU ST., NEW YORK. NEW-ENGLAND NEWS Co., 41 COURT ST., BOSTON.
CENTRAL NEWS Co., PHILADELPHIA. WESTERN NEWS Co., Chicago.

$1.60 a Year, in advance, Postage included. A single copy, 15 cts.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by JOHN L.
SHOREY, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.




CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND SIX.

                                                PAGE.

THE DELIGHTS OF THE SEASIDE By _Emily Carter_    97
MABEL AND HER FRIEND CARLO By _Ned_              99
PLAYING KING By _Alfred Selwyn_                 100
A TRUE ANTELOPE STORY By _Lloyd Wyman_          102
THE APPLE TREE By _Clara Doty Bates_            105
A COUNCIL OF HORSES By _Uncle Charles_          106
THE PET OF THE SHIP By _C.E.C._                 108
THE UNMOTHERLY HEN By _C.R.W._                  111
A DRAWING LESSON                                113
THE CHILDREN'S VISIT TO THE LIGHTHOUSE
  By _Charlie's Mamma_                          114
GOING AFTER COWS By _W.T.O._                    116
ROLY-POLY By _Olive A. Wadsworth_               119
ELSIE'S DUCKS By _Ida Fay_                      120
FISHING FOR TROUT By _Alfred Selwyn_            122
WE THREE By _Bella_                             124
PET, THE CANARY By _Mamma_                      125
THE CAT SHOW By _Sallie's Mamma_                126
GOING THROUGH THE CORN (_Music by T. Crompton_) 128




EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.


With this number we begin on the last quarter of the year 1875; and we
have the pleasure of informing our host of readers, young and old, that
the prospects of "The Nursery" were never so encouraging as now. It has
not only held its own during these hard times, but gone on increasing.
Canvassers may take hold of it with the assurance that future numbers
will be improvements even on the past.

"Playing the King," in our present number, will be a good piece for
humorous declamation at school. Both the artist and the poet have done
their work well.

For the coming holidays, there will be no juvenile work equal in
attraction to the "NURSERY PRIMER," which will now soon be ready. It
will be the best book for beginners ever got up. Already we have
received numerous orders for it, to which we shall soon respond.

"The Easy Book" and "The Beautiful Book" ought to be remembered by
dealers ordering for the holidays. These books have only to be seen to
be appreciated. The Nursery series of books is allowed to be the best
for the purpose designed, namely, the teaching of children to read,
_chiefly by their own efforts_, that has ever appeared.

Unaccepted articles will be returned to the writers _if stamps are sent
with them_ to pay return postage. Manuscripts not so accompanied will
not be preserved, and subsequent requests for their return cannot be
complied with.


[Hand-->] ==New Subscribers for 1876, whose names and money are sent us
before November next, will receive the last three numbers of 1875 FREE.==


[Hand-->] We want a special agent in every town in the United States.
Persons disposed to act in that capacity, are invited to communicate
with the publisher.

[Illustration]




    THE DELIGHTS OF THE SEASIDE.


    Oh merry, merry sports had we, last summer on the beach,--
    Lucy and Oliver and I, with Uncle Sam to teach!
    At times, clad in our bathing-suits, we'd join our hands, all four,
    And rush into the water, or run along the shore.

    The wet sand, how it glistened on the sunny summer day!
    And how the waves would chase us back, as if they were in play!
    And when, on the horizon blue, a sail we would espy,
    How "Ship ahoy!" or "Whither bound?" we all of us would cry!

    The white, white sand, so smooth and hard, oh what a place for fun!
    With no one by to check our screams, or say, "Now, pray, have done!"
    The sea-birds, not at all disturbed by all our mirthful noise,
    Would cry to us, as if they said, "Shout on, shout on, my boys!"

    Sometimes we'd seek for flattened stones, and skim them o'er the waves;
    Then go where, in the piled-up rocks, the sea had hollowed caves;
    Or sit and feel the cooling breeze in silent happiness;
    Or hunt for seaweed in the clefts, and take it home to press.

    And well do I remember there a little shallow creek,
    Where we would go and sail our ships, at least three times a week:
    We loaded them with cargoes rich, and sent them all to Spain;
    And back they came with heavy freights, by which we made much gain.

    Oh! pleasant pastimes on the beach, how often I recall
    The ocean grand, the distant sails, the rocks, the lighthouse tall!
    They do not fade, these pictures bright, from memory's inner view;
    And age itself shall never dim their colors ever new.

                                                  EMILY CARTER.

[Illustration]




MABEL AND HER FRIEND CARLO.


Mabel lives on a hill, quite near a beautiful lake, and is very fond of
going with her papa to take a row on the water. Sometimes they visit the
woods on the other side of the lake, and pick wild flowers, or go where
the water-lilies grow, near the shore, and gather a bunch of the pretty
white blossoms.

But I must tell about Mabel's friend Carlo. He is a large shaggy dog,
owned by a gentleman who lives near. Although quite a young dog, he
knows a great deal. He is very fond of water, and is wild with delight
at the prospect of a swim.

His master owns a large sail-boat, and, as the water near the shore is
not deep, he has to use a small boat to reach it. When Carlo sees him
take down the oar from its place in the yard, he runs up, and takes it
in his mouth, as much as to say, "Let me carry that for you, master."
Then he trots down the hill with the oar, feeling very proud that he is
allowed to carry it.

One day, Carlo took hold of the rope with his teeth, and drew the small
boat to the shore; so that his master, who was in it, did not have to
use the oar.

Mabel loves Carlo very much; and, although he is a large dog, he knows
that he must play very gently with little boys and girls, and not hurt
them with his great paws.
                                                              NED




    PLAYING KING.


    Ho! I'm a king, a king! A crown is on my head;
    A sword is at my side; and regal is my tread:
    Ho, slave! proclaim my will to all the people round,--
    The schools are hereby closed; henceforth must fun abound.

    Vacation shall not end; all slates I order smashed;
    The man who says "arithmetic"--he must be soundly thrashed;
    All grammars shall be burnt; the spellers we will tear;
    The boy who spells correctly--a fool's cap he shall wear.

    No dolls shall be allowed, for dolls are what I hate;
    The girls must give them up, and learn to swim and skate;
    Confectioners must charge only a cent a pound
    For all the plums and candy that in the shops are found.

    That man who asks a dime for any pear or peach--
    I'll have him hung so high, that none his feet can reach;
    No baker is allowed hereafter to bake bread;
    He must bake only pies and cake and ginger-snaps instead.

    All lecturers must quit our realm without delay;
    The circus-men and clowns, on pain of death, must stay;
    All folks who frown on fun, at once must banished be:
    Now, fellow, that you know my will, to its fulfilment see!

                                        ALFRED SELWYN.

[Illustration]


A TRUE ANTELOPE STORY.


Some time ago, I told the readers of "The Nursery" about catching a
buffalo-calf. I will now tell them about a young antelope which we
caught, and another which we almost caught.

Tip and I were in that part of Western Kansas which is left blank on the
maps. Two hunters, Thompson and Hughes, had joined us; and we were
coming back from a buffalo-chase. We had been crawling lazily along,
over prairie, through valley, up and down hill, since sunrise, and it
was now nearly noon.

All of a sudden, from a clump of tall grass near us, up sprung an
antelope and a pair of beautiful fawns. Like a flash, the old one and
one of the fawns started over the brow of the ridge on which they were
lying; while the other little fellow began running around in a circle,
as you have seen ponies do at the circus, bleating as hard as he could.

The boys leaped from the wagons in an instant, while I remained to hold
the horses. Ranging themselves around the circle, the three hunters
every now and then, dashed headlong after the fawn as he flew past; but
missed him by a rod or more every time.

Our dog Landy, also, was on hand for the fun; and it was a laughable
sight to see the great awkward fellow straining every nerve to overtake
the little streak of animated lightning that flashed before him. Landy
was a Newfoundland shepherd, and I knew that nothing could induce him to
hurt the fawn if he should catch him.

While I was watching the sport, and laughing at the drollery of it, all
at once I heard a stamping on the other side of the wagon, and, stepping
quickly around the horses' heads, I saw the old doe, and a buck and doe
with her.

[Illustration]

As the fawn came bounding along the circle, the buck and does, bleating
anxiously, darted in ahead of him, rushing right by the men and dog.
Never stopping an instant, the big buck led the way, the does and fawn
followed; and, before you could say "Jack Robinson," they were "over the
hills, and far away."

This was the antelope that we _almost_ caught. The boys came back to the
wagons, thoroughly fagged out, and looking painfully silly.

Again we drove along, but had not proceeded more than a mile or two,
when up sprung another old doe, and ran toward Landy, stamping her
fore-foot fiercely. Of course the foolish dog took after her as hard as
he could go,--just as she wanted him to do; and a fine chase she led
him, always taking care not to leave him so far behind as to discourage
him, and make him turn back.

We knew at once by her actions that she had a fawn near there; and so,
while she was leading Landy away from it, we set about hunting it up. In
a few minutes, I came across the little slender-legged beauty, snugly
curled up under a tuft of grass. As I came upon him, he dashed out of
cover with a shrill, plaintive little "baa-baa, baa-baa," and, as fawns
always do in such cases, began running in a small circle.

Landy, disgusted with his hopeless chase, came trotting back, and at
once struck in after the fawn. This one was not so fleet as the other;
and by and by Landy overtook him, and tried to stop him by pushing him
over with his nose. This frightened the fawn so badly, that he made
direct for Tip, who was squatting in the long grass in wait for him, and
rushed joyfully into his arms.

We took the bright-eyed little thing into the wagon, and by night he was
so tame, that he would follow us around; and, when we lay down to sleep
on the ground, I gave him a corner of my blanket for a bed. At last we
got back to Thompson's log-house, which stood near the timber; and, when
we went away we gave the fawn to his two little girls. I would really
like to know what ever became of it.

    PERRY, O.                                             LLOYD WYMAN.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]

     The Apple Tree.


    Up in the apple-tree
      See the rosy cheeks;
    See the balls that look like gold;
      See the crimson streaks.
    In the lovely autumn day,
    Bright as in the bloom of May,
    Filled with fruit, and fair to see,
        Is the apple-tree.

    Under the apple-tree
      See the rosy cheeks:
    Little Ginx, the baby,
      What is it he seeks?
    Ah! his tiny teeth are white,
    And are eager for a bite,--
    Such a tempting store to see
        Is the apple-tree.

    Under the apple-tree,
      Other rosy cheeks,--
    Edith, Mabel, Gold-Locks,
      Full of happy freaks.
    Here they run, and there they run,
    Shouting merrily, if one
    Fallen in the grass they see
        From the apple-tree.

                  CLARA DOTY BATES.




A COUNCIL OF HORSES.


On the large plains of South America, horses run wild in great numbers.
They are caught by means of a lasso, which is a rope with a noose at one
end. This is thrown with great dexterity over the neck of the wild
horse.

The artist has called the picture which we here present "A Council of
Horses." Do they not look as if they were taking advice of one another?
The white horse, with his erect neck and head, seems to be the leader,
or chief. He is willing to hear what the others may have to say; but he
means that they shall follow him, after all.

And can horses really make known their wishes to one another? It would
almost seem so, though we cannot prove it. Wild horses choose their own
chiefs, and these give the signal of departure. If any extraordinary
object appears, the chief commands a halt. He goes to discover what it
is, and, after his return, gives, by neighing, the signal of confidence,
of flight, or of combat.

Five sorts of neighing may be noticed: that of joyfulness, of desire, of
anger, of fear, and of sorrow. A feeling peculiar to the horse is
emulation. Whoever has witnessed a horse-race can understand the ardor,
vehemence, and struggle for victory, which excite the energies of both
horses and men. The animals have often tried to hold their rivals back
by the teeth. This has been known to happen when the horses are left
entirely to themselves, as on some of the Italian race-courses, where
the horses run without riders.

The horse has a strong memory. Franklin relates, that he had a horse
that conducted him through a hilly country where it was difficult to
find the road. Every time Franklin himself was unable to tell which road
to take, he would leave the reins on the horse's neck, and the good
beast, left to itself, never failed to go right.

[Illustration]

The noblest conquest that man ever made over the animal creation is that
of the horse. Every thing in him breathes out vivacity and energy. That
need of continual movement, that impatience during repose, that nervous
motion of the lips, that stamping of the feet, all indicate a pressing
need of activity.

                                                      UNCLE CHARLES.




THE PET OF THE SHIP.

PART III.


One day when the ship was at anchor in one of the ports on the western
coast of South America, a number of sheep were brought on board. Whether
Dennis regarded them as intruders, or not, I cannot say; but his
treatment of them was anything but kind.

[Illustration]

The poor sheep stood in great fear of him, and fled in alarm whenever he
made a charge at them. One by one they began to disappear; and, at last,
only one--a little fellow whom the sailors afterward named Billy--was
left.

He was greatly distressed when the last of his companions was taken
away, and ran bleating about the deck in search of him. To add to his
troubles, that dreadful bully Dennis, who had been watching him for some
time, was now coming towards him. He was frightened nearly to death.

What must have been his delight when he saw in Dennis's eyes a look of
pity, and heard his friendly grunt! I don't know what Dennis said; but I
do know, that, half an hour afterwards, Billy had forgotten all about
his troubles, and was lying down with his head resting in Dennis's fat
neck.

Even the rough sailors were pleased; and as they looked at Dennis, who
was fast asleep, they said, "Now that was a fine thing, and Dennis was
the pig to do it. He was willing to fight with a flock of sheep; but,
when it came to quarrelling with one little fellow, he was too noble for
that."

[Illustration]

Thenceforth Dennis and Billy were inseparable, and no pair ever agreed
better. There were times, however, when Dennis seemed a little vexed
with Billy, though he was always as kind as possible. I will tell you of
an instance.

Billy would always watch the crowd about Dennis, when the latter was
taking his bath, with a great deal of anxiety; and, if Dennis did not
appear very shortly, he would begin bleating loudly.

This would disgust Dennis immensely; but he couldn't bear to think that
Billy's feelings were hurt: so he would leave his nice bath, and push
his way through the men, until Billy could see him. Then he would return
to the pump, grunting in a manner that plainly showed his feelings.

He was certainly saying, "I do wish that sheep had a little more of the
pig about him. If I am out of his sight for a moment, he begins to cry,
and take on in such a manner, that I must show myself to him; and then I
have all the trouble of making the sailors pump again."

But the sailors only waited to make Dennis beg a little. They had no
idea of not pumping again. They were always pleased when he showed so
much good feeling for Billy; and generally he got a larger allowance of
water to pay for it.

I believe that Dennis was not living when the ship reached California.
That ever he became food for his sailor friends no one can imagine.
Therefore his fate must remain a mystery, unless some of my readers
happen to know one of the crew of "The Vanderbilt," and can learn from
him something on the subject.

If they can, there are many, no doubt, who would be glad to hear from
them in the pages of "The Nursery." My little girls would, at least.
But, probably, Dennis has more of a place in their thoughts than he can
have in those of others.

C.E.C.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]

THE UNMOTHERLY HEN.


Now, my dear children, if you will be very quiet, I will tell you a true
story, which I sometimes tell my little daughter Fanny and her cousin
Grace, when they climb up on my knees just before going to bed.

On a farm near Fishkill, where Fanny's Aunt Jane lives, they raise a
great many chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese. When I was a boy, ever
so many years ago, I used to have great fun hunting for eggs through the
hay and straw in the barns.

Well, last year one of the hens, instead of laying her eggs in the
hen-house or barn, like a well-mannered hen, stole off under a
wood-pile, and was not seen for three weeks, when she made her
appearance with a fine brood of chickens. To keep her from straying away
again, she was put into a coop. For several days, she was a good mother
to her children; but, after a week or so, she began to act very
strangely, and, when her children came near her, she would peck and
abuse them.

Would you believe it, children? in one day, this unmotherly hen had
pecked all but one of her chickens to death; and, when Aunt Jane found
this poor chap, he had but one eye, and all the toes were gone from one
foot; so that he had to stand on the other. At first, Aunt Jane thought
it would be a mercy to kill the little fellow, and put him out of pain;
but she finally determined that she would try to cure him.

So she took him into the kitchen, and made him quite comfortable in a
box half filled with cotton-batting, and placed near the stove. She gave
him cracked-corn to eat, and plenty of water to drink, and, after a
while, he got so strong, that he hopped out of the box, and was just as
jolly a chicken as he could be, with only one eye to see with, and only
one foot and the stump of another to walk on.

Still he would not go out and play with other chickens of his age, but
persisted in hanging around the kitchen. One morning, when Aunt Jane
went into the breakfast-room, she found him on the table, helping
himself from a dish of stewed potatoes. Such impudence could no longer
be tolerated: so the saucy little cripple was banished to the barnyard
to learn manners.

And what do you think became of the unmotherly hen? She lost all her
friends. She was despised and hated by everybody on the farm. She was
pointed at as "that cruel, speckled hen," until life became a burden to
her. She was not permitted to have any more chickens. When the cold
weather came, she was sent to a poor woman for a thanksgiving dinner;
and it is to be hoped that all the hens in the barnyard took warning
from her fate.

                                                             C.R.W.
    LANSINGBURGH. N.Y.

[Illustration: Outline Drawing by MR. HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing
lesson.]




THE CHILDREN'S VISIT TO THE LIGHTHOUSE.


Charlie and Georgie were staying at Appledore, one of the Isles of
Shoals, and, with two other little children, had many nice times fishing
and sailing.

The lighthouse is on White Island, which, as you see in the picture, is
a lonely and rocky place. It would be very dangerous for any ship to
come in from sea on that part of the coast, if it were not for the
friendly warning of the brilliant light.

One warm, sunny morning, Charlie and Georgie, with their papa and mamma,
and their two little friends, rowed across from Appledore, and landed on
the pebbly beach of White Island. Here the children ran about, and
picked up stones until they were tired; and then the whole party seated
themselves on some shaded rocks, and ate their lunch of crackers and
bananas.

While they were eating, an old white dog, belonging to the lighthouse
keeper, came up and made their acquaintance. Georgie shared his cake
with him; and it was amusing to see the old dog watching with eager eyes
every piece that went into any mouth but his own.

When lunch was over, the two older children, Charlie and Anna, led the
way; and all were soon climbing the winding stairs in the lighthouse
tower. When they reached the top, they found themselves in a small room
with windows on every side, and the great lamp in the centre. The
lantern is made of red-and-white glass, and turns around, so that first
a red, and then a white, light may be seen far out at sea.

The keeper explained how, after lighting the lamp, he wound up the
machinery which caused the lamp to revolve; and told them of the lonely
hours he had spent in the little room below the lamp, while the waves
dashed, and the storm beat outside.

[Illustration]

For many weeks in the winter he lives there all by himself, and sees no
one; but, in the summer time, there is hardly a day when he does not
have a boat full of visitors. He always gives them a hearty welcome, and
makes himself very agreeable. I suppose he feels as though he must make
the most of society while he can get it.

The children listened to his talk with great interest. With many thanks
for his kind attentions, they bade him "Good-by," and, intent on
collecting shells on another island near, stepped into their boat, and
were rowed away, leaving the man and his friendly dog to enjoy each
other's company.

                                                     CHARLIE'S MAMMA.




GOING AFTER COWS.


When Edward was eight years old, his mother told him he might go with
John, the hired man, to drive the cows from the pasture. How happy the
little boy was!

Every day he would be ready as soon as John gave the word; and off they
would go, through the woods, over hills and rocks, and gurgling brooks,
wherever the ding-dong of the distant cow-bells pointed the way.

Sometimes they had a long search before they could find all the cows;
for the pasture was very large, and the cows would wander about in
every part of it, to find the best feeding-places.

[Illustration]

On the way home, Edward would run ahead of the cows, and open the bars;
and sometimes he would sit on the wall, and pat each cow as she came
through.

When the cows reached the barnyard, Edward would help milk. There was
one old cow which he called his own, and which he named Carrie. She
always stood very still while being milked, and that was one reason why
he liked her better than any of the rest.

After milking, he helped John to carry in the milk, and his mother often
gave him a mug full. Oh, how nice it was!

                                                               W.T.O.




[Illustration]

    ROLY-POLY.


    Roly-Poly is three years old,
      Three years old, and a trifle over:
    Roly-Poly is round as a ball,
      Jolly as larks, and sweet as clover.

    Roly-Poly has stars for eyes,
      A heavenly chin with a dimple in it,
    Peaches for cheeks, the bud of a nose,
      And a tongue that is never still a minute.

    Roly-Poly gets up in the morning,--
      Morning, quoth I? it's the crack of the dawn!--
    Dresses himself in a boot and a stocking,
      Flies to his sister as swift as a fawn.

    Pulls at her eyes with his fat little fingers,--
      Crazy for stories, that's all the matter!--
    "Oh! I am sleepy and cross," she cries;
      "You, Roly-Poly, disperse and scatter!"

    But Roly-Poly's a resolute tyrant;
      Father and mother are captives wholly:
    So what can a poor big sister do
      But yield to a king like Roly-Poly.

    Roly-Poly's a man of business:
      He canters to market on grandpa's cane,
    Orders a breakfast of peppermint-candy,
      And gallops his pony home again.

    Roly-Poly's a man of pleasure:
      Sorrow and care are for grown-up stupids:
    Pictures and kisses, toys and caresses,
      Fondling and fun, for dimpled Cupids.

    After the sun has gone out of the south,
      The night comes down on his eyelids slowly;
    He topples asleep with his thumb in his mouth,--
      What an iniquity, Roly-Poly!

                                 OLIVE A. WADSWORTH.




ELSIE'S DUCKS.


Elsie was the daughter of poor parents, who lived on the borders of a
lake. Once, when she was very ill with a fever, a good neighbor made her
a present of three young ducks. Elsie was much pleased, and she soon
began to get well.

Her mother would bring a large tub of water into the room where the
little invalid lay; and the three ducks would swim about, and swallow
the crumbs which Elsie threw to them.

As soon as she got well, she would drive the ducks down to the lake, and
let them swim. They were so tame, that they would come out of the water
at her call.

Sometimes her father and the rest of the family would get into a boat,
and he would row across the lake to the opposite side, where some
families lived who employed Elsie's mother to wash clothes for them.

[Illustration]

At these times, the three ducks would follow the boat. Perhaps they did
not like to trust their dear Elsie on the water, unless they were by to
help her in case of need.

Sometimes old and young would join in a song; and then far over the lake
would be heard the words:

    "Come to the sunset tree, the day is past and gone,
    The woodman's axe lies free, and the reaper's task is done."

It was a very pretty sight, on a summer evening, when the bright clouds
over the setting sun threw their tints on the water, to see the ducks
swimming by the side of the little boat which contained Elsie and the
rest of the family. It was so pretty a sight, that a good artist made a
picture of the scene. We give you a copy of it here.

                                                             IDA FAY.

[Illustration]




FISHING FOR TROUT.


The trout belongs to the salmon family. Its flesh is generally of a pale
pink or yellow color. It is one of the handsomest fish to be found in
our waters. The variations of its tints are very beautiful; and the red
spots on its skin distinguish it from common fish.

I never had much luck in catching trout. One summer I went from the city
to try the trout-streams in Northern New York. I had a handsome rod, and
a line nicely baited with an artificial fly; but, though I was very
persevering, my success was small.

I remember sitting for hours on the slender bridge just below the Upper
Cascades of Buttermilk Fall, represented in the picture; but my
patience was not rewarded by the capture of a single trout. I was sorry
for this; for I had depended on getting one for my dinner.

As I was about retiring, a little barefoot fellow, about twelve years
old, came along with a common fishing-pole, and hook baited with a worm,
and said, "Mister, I'll catch a trout for you."--"Do it, then," said I.

He threw his line over a smooth spot in the pool below; and, before he
had been at it five minutes, he pulled up a noble trout, large enough
for a good dinner. Another and another were pulled up in quick
succession. I did not know what to make of it; for I thought I had
fished in a very scientific way.

"Teach me the knack," said I. "Oh, it can't be taught," replied the boy.
"Well, here is a dime for your trouble," said I, putting the fish into
my pail. "Do you suppose I take pay for what I do for sport, mister?"
said little barefoot, waving back my hand with the air of a prince.

After that we became good friends, and met often at the bridge; but I
never could learn his knack of catching trout.

                                                        ALFRED SELWYN.

[Illustration]





[Illustration]

WE THREE.


What fine times we have together!--Carlo, John, and Bella; by which last
I mean myself. Carlo has the advantage of the other two of us sometimes;
for he has four legs, and can run faster than either John or I. But then
we can do a great many things that Carlo cannot do.

For example, John and I sometimes take our books, and sit down on the
rocks in the wood, under the thick trees, and read stories. And then
Carlo will lie down at our feet, and go to sleep; for he cannot
understand the nice stories which the other two friends enjoy so much.

But wait till we go into the swamps after berries, or into the
wood-borders after hazel-nuts. Then Carlo is wide awake, you may be
sure. If he sees a snake, what a noise he makes! We can always tell by
the tone of his bark when he has found a snake.

And, when John climbs a tree after nuts, how anxiously Carlo will stand
underneath and watch him, so afraid is he that the little boy will get
a fall! And how the good dog will jump and show his pleasure when he
sees John once more safe on the firm ground!

Oh! we have fine times together, we three, both in summer and winter;
for Carlo likes to see us skate on ice, and is fond of a snowballing
frolic. In all our sleigh-rides he goes with us, and takes great care of
us. We are dear friends, we three, and I should no more think of
striking Carlo than of striking John.

                                                                BELLA.


PET, THE CANARY.


A little girl by the name of Agnes, who lives in Maine, and who much
enjoys "The Nursery," has a beautiful, bright canary, which her papa
brought her one day in a paper-box. Agnes named him Pet.

The little fellow has become so tame, that he is allowed to stay out of
his cage as long as he wishes, always going to it of his own accord when
bedtime comes. One day I found no pins on my pin-cushion; and, seeing
them scattered around on the bureau, I wondered who could have done the
mischief. I soon found, by watching, that it was Pet's work.

Every day he took his stand on the pin-cushion, in front of the glass,
to pull out all the pins. I saw him once work a long time trying to
stick one back by tipping his head, first one side and then the other,
holding the pin tightly in his bill; but he soon gave it up.

Little Fannie, Agnes's two-year-old sister, often shares her lunch with
him; he sitting on the edge of the saucer, and helping himself while she
is eating. As I write, he is sitting on the tassel of the shade, looking
out of the window. Some day I'll tell you more of Pet's pranks.

                                                                MAMMA.




[Illustration]

THE CAT SHOW.


It was at the Crystal Palace, in Sydenham, England. I wish all the
readers of "The Nursery" could have seen it.

There were over three hundred cats in cages. Each one had a nice red
cushion in the front-part of the cage, and in the back part a dish of
water or milk. Each one had a ribbon around the neck, to which was
attached a medal with the number of the cage. The ribbons were of all
colors.

The cats that had taken the first prize were known by a little blue flag
suspended over the front of the cage, and were the largest cats. Very
many of them were lazily sleeping on their cushions, as happy as if they
were in their own homes. They took little notice of the people who were
looking at them; and, as a placard on each cage ordered spectators to
"move on," no one could spend much time in trying to attract their
attention.

I can hardly tell you about all the cats, there were so many,--some all
white, some all black, and some all yellow; black-and-yellow,
black-and-white, black-and-gray, gray-and-white, black-and-yellow-and-white;
cats with long hair, and cats with short; cats with tails, and cats without.
One large Russian cat, called the "Czar," was brown, with smooth, short,
shining fur, which looked like seal-skin.

Then there were kittens of all sizes and colors. In one cage was a black
mother-puss, with four perfectly white kittens, their eyes not yet open.
Another black mother had two kittens,--one black, and one gray. A
black-and-yellow puss had one black, and one yellow kitten.

In some of the cages were two or three large kittens having a good time
together. Some of them had balls to play with; some were climbing on the
sides of the cage or frolicking with one another; and others were
running around after their tails, in real kitten fashion.

Just before five o'clock, the baskets in which the cats were brought
were placed on the tops of the cages. Some of the cats reached up and
tried to get hold of them. They all seemed to know that the show was
over, and that they would soon be able to run and jump about, with
plenty of air and space.

I must not forget to tell you how quiet all these cats were. Not one
"Me-ow" was to be heard. When, out of sight of the cages, one would
never have known there was a cat in the building.

                                                    SALLIE'S MAMMA.




[Illustration: sheet music]

  GOING THROUGH THE CORN.


  Music by T. Crampton.

  1. Right and left upstanding,
  See on either side,
  Blooming corn expanding,
  Rippling like the tide.
  With breath of Eden scented,
  On the breezes borne,...
  All in love presented,
  Going through the corn.

  2. Bath'd in light etherial,
  Ripening in the sun,
  Royal corn imperial,
  Bread for every one.
  'Tis God's own gift descending,
  For the poor and lorn,...
  See the full ears bending,
  Going through the corn.

  3. Thrush and blackbird singing
  In the coppice near,
  All the blue sky ringing
  With their notes so clear!
  The twitt'ring swallows skimming,
  Through the air of morn,...
  Happy all, all hymning,
  Going through the corn.


[Illustration: Colgate & Co. New York]

VIOLET TOILET WATER. CASHMERE BOUQUET EXTRACT. CASHMERE BOUQUET Toilet
Soap.

       *       *       *       *       *

Price, Twenty-Five Cents.

==NEWSPAPER ADVERTISING==

NINETY-EIGHTH EDITION.

Containing a complete list of all the towns in the United States, the
Territories, and the Dominion of Canada, having a population greater
than 5,000 according to the last census, together with the names of the
newspapers having the largest local circulation in each of the places
named. Also, a catalogue of newspapers which are recommended to
advertisers as giving greatest value in proportion to prices charged.
Also, all newspapers in the United States and Canada printing over 5,000
copies each issue. Also, all the Religious, Agricultural Scientific and
Mechanical, Medical, Masonic, Juvenile, Educational, Commercial,
Insurance, Real Estate, Law, Sporting, Musical, Fashion, and other
special class journals; very complete lists. Together with a complete
list of over 300 German papers printed in the United States. Also, an
essay upon advertising; many tables of rates, showing the cost of
advertising in various newspapers, and everything which a beginner in
advertising would like to know.

Address == GEO. P. ROWELL & CO., 41 Park Row, New York.==

       *       *       *       *       *

==IN PRESS. THE Nursery Primer==

By which children can teach themselves to read, with but little help
from parent or teacher.

SUPERBLY AND APTLY ILLUSTRATED.

The must beautiful Primer in the market. Containing upwards of a hundred
fine pictures. ==96 Pages== of the size of The Nursery. The word-system of
teaching explained and applied.

==JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield Street, Boston.==

       *       *       *       *       *

==AGENTS WANTED.==

Men or women. $34 a week. Proof furnished. Business pleasant and
honorable with no risks. A 16 page circular and Valuable Samples free. A
postal-card on which to send your address costs but one cent Write at
once to F.M. REED, 8TH ST., NEW YORK.

       *       *       *       *       *

==Choicest Books for Children.== THE BEAUTIFUL BOOK.

This is a collection of some of the best poems that have appeared in
"The Nursery." It is a volume of 128 pages, richly bound in cloth, with
one or more Pictures on every page. It is specially attractive as a
Gift-Book for the holidays.

==Price.......75 Cents.==

==THE EASY BOOK.==

This is a book of 128 pages, prepared expressly for children just
learning to read. It is in large Old English type, with a profusion of
pictures and delightful object-lessons, and is made so fascinating that
a child learns to read from it with little or no aid.

==Elegantly bound in full cloth ... 75 Cents.
      "       "   "  half cloth ... 50   "   ==


*** The above books will be sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by the
Publisher, ==JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield Street, Boston, Mass.==

       *       *       *       *       *

==VOLCANIC MEDICINES==

Which convulse the system by their violent cathartic action, must not be
taken for constipation. The mild, soothing and painless operation of
==Tarrant's Seltzer Aperient== is exactly what is required, and will
speedily cure the most chronic cases.

==Sold by all Druggists.==

       *       *       *       *       *

$57.60 AGENTS' PROFITS PER WEEK.

Will prove it or forfeit $500. New article just patented. Samples sent
free to all. Address W.H. CHIDESTER, 267 Broadway, N. York.

       *       *       *       *       *

==WANTED==

Agents for the best-selling Prize Package is the world. It contains 15
sheets paper, 15 envelopes, golden Pen, Pen Holder, Pencil, patent Yard
Measure, and a piece of Jewelry Single package with elegant prize,
post pdd, 25c. Circular free.

BRIDE & CO., 769 Broadway. N.Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

==CONSTANTINE'S PINE TAR SOAP==

FOR TOILET, BATH & NURSERY,
CURES SKIN AND SCALP DISEASES
RESTORES HAIR AND PREVENTS BALDNESS
SOLD BY GROCERS AND DRUGGISTS.

       *       *       *       *       *

==LADIES== can make $5 a day in their own city or town. Address Ellis
M'F'G Co. Waltham, Mass.

       *       *       *       *       *

==AGENTS WANTED==

FOR DR. MARCH'S GREAT WORK

==NIGHT-SCENES IN THE BIBLE.==

And a magnificent New Book just from the press. Address J.C. MCCURDY &
CO., Philadelphia, Pa.

       *       *       *       *       *

==DIME==
Arabian Nights

EVERY BOY
should send for a copy.

Wonderful Stories--cheap, postpaid for 10 c.

HOWARD CHALLEN, Publisher, Phila.

       *       *       *       *       *

==SEEDS AND BULBS.==

ILLUSTRATED SPRING CATALOGUE FOR 1875.

NOW READY.

Sent, with a specimen copy of THE AMERICAN GARDEN, a new Illustrated
Journal of Garden Art, edited by James Hogg, on receipt of ten cents.

==BEACH, SON & CO., Seedsmen,==
76 Fulton St., Brooklyn, N.Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

==$5 to $20== per day Agents wanted. All classes of working people of both
sexes, young and old, make more money at work for us in their own
localities, during their spare moments, or all the time, than at
anything else. We offer employment that will pay handsomely for every
hour's work. Full particulars, terms, &c., sent free. Send us your
address at once. Don't delay. Now is the time. Don't look for work or
business elsewhere, until you have learned what we offer.

G. STINSON & Co., Portland, Maine.

       *       *       *       *       *

BULBS FOR FALL PLANTING FLOWERS FOR THE HOUSE

==THE AUTUMN NUMBER OF VICK'S FLORAL GUIDE.==

containing descriptions of Hyacinths, Tulips, Lilies, and all Bulbs and
Seeds for Fall Planting in the Garden, and for Winter Flowers in the
house--just published and sent free to all.

Address JAMES VICK, Rochester, N.Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

CENTENNIAL PRINTING PRESS

[Illustration]

The neatest, simplest, cheapest bed and platen press ever made, screw
chase, adjustable guage, with ink table and roller, warranted to do good
work, and sold for TWO Dollars! By mail. $2.95. A miniature printing
office--press, cabinet, cases, two fonts of type, ink, leads, &c., for
$5.00! By mail, $7.25!

Circular free. Agents wanted. JOSEPH WATSON, 73 Cornhill, Boston; 53
Murray St., New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

==LADIES==, you can have a clear complexion by using ==HARRISON'S PARIAN
WHITE== face-powder. _It is very beautifying in effect, can be used
without detection, and does not rub off._ Ask your druggist for it, or
send 3-cent stamp for trial sample. Address HARRISON M'F'G Co. 13 No.
Ninth Street, Philadelphia, Pa.

       *       *       *       *       *

BOUND VOLUMES

OF

==The Nursery==

Will be sent, postpaid, by the publisher at the following prices:--

==Half-Yearly Volumes, $1.00
Yearly Volumes,         1.75==

The magazine was begun in 1867.

The Nursery.

TERMS--1875.

SUBSCRIPTIONS,--$1.60 a year, in advance. Three copies for 4.30 a year;
four for $5.40; five for $6.50; six for $7.60: seven for $8.70; eight
for $9.80, nine for $10.90; each additional copy for $1.20; twenty
copies for $22.00, always in advance.

POSTAGE is included in the above rates. All magazines are sent postpaid.

A SINGLE NUMBER will be mailed for 15 cents. _One sample number will
mailed for 10 cents._

VOLUMES begin with January and July. Subscriptions may commence with any
month, but, unless the time is specified, will date from the beginning
of the current volume.

BACK NUMBERS can always be supplied. _The Magazine commenced January,
1867._

BOUND VOLUMES, each containing the numbers for six months, will be sent
by mail, postpaid, for $1.00 per volume; yearly volumes for $1.75.

COVERS, for half-yearly volume, postpaid, 35 cents; covers for yearly
volume, 40 cents.

PRICES OF BINDING.--In the regular half-yearly volume, 40 cents; in one
yearly volume (12 Nos. in one), 50 cents. If the volumes are to be
returned by mail, add 14 cents for the half-yearly, and 22 cents for the
yearly volume, to pay postage.

REMITTANCES may be made at our risk, if made by check, or money-order.

       *       *       *       *       *

IN CLUB WITH OTHER PERIODICALS.

(ALL POSTPAID.)

  Scribner's Monthly    $4.00, and The Nursery, $4.75
  Harper's Monthly       4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Harper's Weekly        4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Harper's Bazar         4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Atlantic Monthly       4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Galaxy                 4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Old and New            4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Lippincott's Magazine  4.00, and The Nursery,  4,75
  Appleton's Journal     4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Living Age             8.00, and The Nursery,  9.00
  Phrenological Journal  3.10, and The Nursery,  4.00
  The Science of Health  2.00, and The Nursery,  3.10
  The Sanitarian         3.00, and The Nursery,  4.00
  St. Nicholas           3.00, and The Nursery,  4.00
  The Household          1.00, and The Nursery,  2.20
  Mother's Journal       2.00, and The Nursery,  3.25
  Demorest's Monthly     3.10, and The Nursery,  4.25
  Amer. Agriculturist    1.50, and The Nursery,  2.70
  Leslie's Illustrated   4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Optic's Magazine       3.00, and The Nursery,  4.25
  Lady's Journal         4.00, and The Nursery,  4.75
  Godey's Lady's Book    3.00, and The Nursery,  4.00
  Hearth and Home        3.00, and The Nursery,  4.00
  Young People's Mag.    1.50, and The Nursery,  2.70
  The Horticulturist     2.10, and The Nursery,  3.20
  Ladies Floral Cabinet  1.30, and The Nursery,  2.60

N.B.--When any of these Magazines is desired in club with "The Nursery"
at the above rates, both Magazines must be subscribed for at the _same
time_: but they need not be to the same address. We furnish our own
Magazine, and agree to pay the subscription for the other. Beyond this
we take no responsibility. The publisher of each Magazine is responsible
for its prompt delivery; and complaints must be addressed accordingly.

       *       *       *       *       *

NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS.

The number of the Magazine with which your subscription _expires_ is
indicated by the number annexed to the address on the printed label.
When no such number appears, it will be understood that the subscription
ends with the current year. ==No notice of discontinuance need be given,
as the Magazine is never sent after the term of subscription expires.==
Subscribers will oblige us by sending their renewals promptly. State
always that your payment is for a _renewal_, when such is the fact. In
changing the direction, the _old_ as well as the _new_ address should be
given. The sending of "The Nursery" will be regarded as a sufficient
receipt.

[Hand-->] Any one not receiving it will please notify us immediately,
giving date of remittance.

ADDRESS

JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE NURSERY.

PREMIUM-LIST for 1875.

For three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any one of the
following articles: a heavily-plated gold pencil-case, a rubber
pencil-case with gold tips, silver fruit-knife, a pen-knife, a beautiful
wallet, any book worth $1.50. For five, at $1.60 each, any one of the
following: globe microscope, silver fruit-knife, silver napkin-ring,
book or books worth $2.50. For six, at $1.60 each, we will give any one
of the following: a silver fruit-knife (marked), silver napkin-ring,
pen-knives, scissors, backgammon-board, note-paper and envelopes stamped
with initials, books worth $3.00. For ten, at $1.60 each, select any one
of the following; morocco travelling-bag, stereoscope with six views,
silver napkin-ring, compound microscope, lady's work-box, sheet-music or
books worth $5.00. For twenty, at $1.60 each, select any one of the
following: a fine croquet-set, a powerful opera-glass, a toilet case,
Webster's Dictionary (unabridged), sheet-music or books worth $10,00.

*** ==Any other articles equally easy to transport may be selected as
premiums, their value being in proportion to the number of subscribers
sent. Thus, we will give for three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, a
premium worth $1.50; for four, a premium worth $2.00; for five, a
premium worth $2.50; and so on.==

BOOKS for premiums may be selected from any publisher's catalogue; and
we can always supply them at catalogue prices. Under this offer,
subscriptions to any periodical or newspaper are included.

       *       *       *       *       *

SPECIAL OFFERS.

BOOKS.--For two new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any
_half-yearly_ volume of THE NURSERY; for three any _yearly_ volume; for
two, OXFORD'S JUNIOR SPEAKER; for two, THE EASY BOOK; for two, THE
BEAUTIFUL BOOK; for three, OXFORD'S SENIOR SPEAKER; for three, SARGENT'S
ORIGINAL DIALOGUES; for three, an elegant edition of SHAKSPEARE,
complete in one volume, full cloth, extra gilt, and gilt-edged; or any
one of the standard BRITISH POETS, in the same style. GLOBES.--For two
new subscribers, we will give a beautiful GLOBE three inches in
diameter; for three, a GLOBE four inches in diameter; for five, a GLOBE
six inches in diameter. PRANG'S CHROMOS will be given as premiums at the
publisher's prices. Send stamp for a catalogue. GAMES, &c.--For two new
subscribers, we will give any one of the following: The Checkered Game
of Life, Alphabet and Building Blocks, Dissected Maps, &c., &c. For
three new subscribers, any one of the following: Japanese Backgammon or
Kakeba, Alphabet and Building Blocks (extra). Croquet, Chivalrie, Ring
Quoits, and any other of the popular games of the day may be obtained on
the most favorable terms, by working for THE NURSERY. Send stamp to us
for descriptive circulars.


MARSHALL'S ENGRAVED PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN AND GRANT.

Either of these large and superbly executed steel engravings will be
sent, postpaid, as a premium for three new subscribers at $1.60 each.

[Hand-->] Do not wait to make up the whole list before sending. Send
the subscriptions as you get them, stating that they are to go to your
credit for a premium; and, when your list is completed, select your
premium, and it will be forthcoming.

[Hand-->] _Take notice that our offers of premiums apply only to
subscriptions paid at the full price: viz., $1.60 a year. We do not
offer premiums for subscriptions supplied at club-rates. We offer no
premiums for one subscription only. We offer no premiums in money._

  Address,                      JOHN L SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston.






