Dobbin has a little friend,
Spotted white and sable;
Every day she goes to him,
In his lonely stable.
Not a mite of dread has she,
Not a thought of danger,
Lightly runs between his hoofs,
Jumps upon his manger,
Lays her soft warm cheek to his,
Purrs her meek "Good-morning!"
Gives the flies that hover near
Such a look of warning.
"Dobbin dear," she sometimes says, "Feel my winter mittens! "Nice and warm, you see, and made Purposely for kittens.
Dobbin dear, such times at home! Mother has caught a rat! Brought it home to show to us, What do you think of that?"
"Dobbin," she whispers, purring still, "You often get so weary ! Why don't you balk or run away, And get your freedom dearie?"
Then Dobbin gives his head a toss, And says: "For shame, Miss Kitty! If I could do so mean a thing Twould be a monstrous pity!
"No, no; my master's good and kind! I'll never vex him - never!" And pussy, pleased, still rubs his cheek, And likes him more than ever.
This is the complete version of a wonderful little verse by MARY MAPES DODGE, whom you all know I like very much. xxx
Kayleigh of Q
The Chorus of Frogs
Croak, croak, croak !" Said the croaking voice of a frog: "A rainy day In the month of May, And plenty of room in the bog."
"Croak, croak, croak !" Said the frog, as it hopped away: "The insects feed On the floating ween, And I'm hungry for dinner today."
"Croak, croak, croak !" Said the frog, as it splashed about: "Good neighbours all, When you hear me call, It is odd that you don't come out."
"Croak, croak, croak !" said the frogs: "it is charming weather; We'll come and sup When the moon is up, And we'll all of us croak together."
Written by Anne Hawkshawe.
I Saw a Peacock, with a Fiery Tail
I Saw a Peacock with a fiery tail
I saw a Blazing Comet drop down hail
I saw a Cloud with Ivy circled round
I saw a sturdy Oak creep on the ground
I saw a Pismire swallow up a Whale
I saw a raging Sea brim full of Ale
I saw a Venice Glass Sixteen foot deep
I saw a well full of mens tears that weep
I saw their eyes all in a flame of fire
I saw a House as big as the Moon and higher
I saw the Sun even in the midst of night
I saw the man that saw this wondrous sight.
Read this carefully mummy. Nobody knows who wrote it but it has been dated at about the 1660's It is a kind of puzzle within a poem, a lesson on the importance of
punctuation. As you can see, it only has one fullstop.
But if you
punctuate it with a full stop, or a comma in the middle of each line, it
makes perfect sense. "I saw a peacock." "With a fiery tail I saw a
comet." But the pictures that become visible are amazing.
"KAYLEIGH Q" In Diddilydeedot's Dreamland
Froggy-in-the-Middle.
Brand New Dog and Anthony were playing 'Piggy-in-the-middle', or more accurately, 'Froggy-in-the-middle' for the 'pig' was infact Happy Frog!
"Its not fair," said Anthony as Happy Frog easily leapt up and caught the ball sailing over his head,"you shouldn't be allowed to hop that high!"
"Not hop?" croaked happy Frog, grinning from ear to ear. "But I'm a frog, I don't have any choice in the matter."
"Well I'm fed up of Piggy-in-the-middle," said Anthony, "can't we play something else?"
"What about 'Froggy, Froggy, may we cross your river today?'" said Frog.
"That's no good either," said Anthony, "Barbie always wins. She always has some item of just about every colour on her, whether its purple pants, lemon socks or blue and yellow flowers sown on to her frilly bits. Besides, she has such long legs she can always outrun 'Froggy' everytime, even when the 'Froggy' is you, Frog!"
"Well what about hide-and-seek then?" suggested Ellen, looking up from the little rag doll she was sowing for her cousin Marjorie.
"Not hide-and-seek," said Anthony. "The last time I was 'IT' I was in the cupboard underneath the stairs for three days before anybody ever found me. And then it was only the electricity man come to read the meter."
"Well we didn't know Amornrat's Uncle was coming to visit with his two daughters, Mai and Bai. Before we knew it Amornrat had bundled us all up in her shoulderbag to visit Hong Kong Disneyworld for the weekend. By the we realised you weren't with us we were already going through customs. We did bring you back a model of Minnie Mouse and some Moon-cakes!"
"Yes and Orange Thing ate most of them. I only got half of one." "If I recall it was a half-moon the evening we got back," said Brand New Dog. "Well well, speak of the devil," said Barbie, leaning out from the top shelf where she was reading the latest issue of 'Fashion Fashion Fashion', "here's Orange Thing now but what on earth is that he's carrying in his mouth - not another rat with half its stomach hanging out? Will he never get it through his thick marmalade head that little girls don't eat rats?"
Orange Thing laid the half-chewed rodent next to Amornrat's fluffy pink house-slippers, neatly positioned under his mistress's bed next to her collection of romance comics and horoscope magazines. He glared up at Barbie.
"Well naturally, they need training up," he remarked cooly and proceeded to wash his paws and stomach. "One hardly expects a plastic doll to know anything about such matters."
"Doesn't the fact that every time you bring her one she almost has a seizure and chases you around the house with a broom suggest you might be barking up the wrong tree?" asked Brand New Dog, eying the mutilated offering with scientific interest.
Orange Thing narrowed his eyes and looked down his nose at the gaudily painted clay dog, amazed that even such a stupid creature could imagine cats barked up trees. "She was simply overcome with emotion," he said. "Young girls are prone to such fits of the vapours. She will grow out of it."
"Well here she comes now,' said Barbie, catching sight of her head coming up the stairs. "Take cover everyone!"
Happy Frog let out a healthy 'Ribbit' and leapt to the top of the nearby bookcase. Brand New Dog looked around him, startled. "Quick," he said, grabbing Anthony by a paw, "underneath the bed, watch out for the rat!"
By the time amornrat entered the room only Orange Thing was still visible, sitting proudly beside his latest victim, looking as if he had just lapped up a bowl of cream.
Peeping out from behind the waste-paper bin Ellen began slowly counting. She got to three before the expected typhoon hit. One minute the room was quiet and peaceful, the next it was full of screaming and yowling as Orange Thing shot this way and that trying to avoid the house-broom Amornrat had swiftly acquired from the landing. Eventually a hissing orange streak whizzed between the young girls legs and shot downstairs five steps at a time like, well, like a cat out of hell...
When Amornrat had finally disposed of the unwanted gift and had calmed down enough to change out of her school uniform and go downstairs to watch cartoons the eager friends emerged from their hiding places.
"How long?" asked Brand New Dog expectantly. "Three seconds," said Ellen, coming out from behind the waste-paper basket. "I told you so," said Happy Frog to Anthony. "That's two chocolate buttons and a jelly-baby you owe me." "Oh well," said Anthony, "fair enough - but can we make it three chocolate buttons and half a jelly baby?"
"Which half?" asked Happy Frog dubiously. "The bottom," said Anthony. "Hmm..." said Happy Frog. "I suppose so but next time try to make it the head!" "Well now that that's out of the way what shall we play next?" said Brand New Dog, turning to Anthony and looking at him enquiringly.
But Anthony was laying curled up on a cushion with his head propped on his front paws, fast asleep. Well, he was a very young clay dog!
Kayleigh of Q Gardens
IMOGEN COMES TO TEA by Susan Coolidge the author of the "Katy" books.
"Aunt Izzie, may I ask Imogen Clark to spend the day here on Saturday?" cried Katy, bursting in one afternoon. "Who on earth is Imogen Clark?" I never heard the name before," replied her aunt. "Oh, the loveliest girl! She hasn't been going to Mrs Knight's school but a little while, but we're the greatest friends. And she's perfectly beautiful, Aunt Izzie. Her hands are just as white as snow, and no bigger that. She's got the littlest waist of any girl in school, and she's really is sweet, and so self denying and unselfish! I don't believe she has a bit good times at home, either. Do let me ask her to come, Aunt Izzie!" "How do you know she is so sweet and denying if you've only known her such a short time?" Asked Aunt Izzie, in an uncompromising tone. "Oh, she tells me everything! We always walk together at recess now. I know all about her, and she's just lovely! Her father used to be real rich, but they're poor now, and Imogen had to have her boots patched twiced last winter. I guess she's the flower of her family. You can't think how I love her!" concluded Katy sentimentally. "No I can't," said Aunt Izzie. "I never could see these sudden friendships of yours, Katy, and I'd rather you wouldn't invite this Imogen, or what ever her name is, till I've had a chance to ask somebody about her." Katy clasped her hands in despair. "Oh Aunt Izzie!" she cried, "Imogen knows that I came in to ask you, and she's standing at the gate at this moment, waiting to hear what you say. Please let me just this once! I shall be so dreadfully ashamed not to." "Well," said Aunt Izzie, moved by the wretchedness of Katy's face, "If you have asked her already it's no use my saying no, I suppose. But recollect Katy, this is not to happen again. I can't have you inviting girls, and then coming for my leave. Your father won't be at all pleased. He's very particular about whom you make friends with. Remember how Mrs. Spenser turned out" Poor Katy she was always getting herself into scrapes, with her taking to people so easily. Ever since she began to walk and talk "Katy's intimate friends" had been one of the jokes of the household. Papa once undertook to keep a list of them, but the number grew so great that he had to give up in despair. First on the list was a small Irish child, named Marianne O'Riley. Marianne lived in a street which Katy passed by on the way to school. It was not Mrs. Knight's but an A B C school to which Doris and John went now. Marianne used to be always making sand-pies in front of her mother's house, and Katy, who was about five years old, often stopped to help her. Over this mutual pastry dish they grew so intimate that Katy resolved to adopt Marianne as her own little girl, and bring her up in a safe and hidden corner. She told Clover of this plan but nobody else. The two children full of delight at their secret, began to save pieces of bread and biscuits from their supper every evening. By degrees they collected a great heap of dry crusts, and other refreshments, which they put safely away in the attic. They also saved apples they were given for two weeks, and made a bed in a big empty box, with cotton quilts, and the doll's pillows out of the baby house. When all was ready Katy broke the plan to her beloved Marianne, and easily persuaded her to run away and take possession of this new home. "We won't tell Papa and Mamma till she's quite grown up, Katy," said Clover; "Then we'll bring her downstairs, and won't they be surprised! Don't let's call her Marianne any longer, either. It isn't pretty. We'll name her Susquehanna instead - Susquehanna Carr. Recollect, Marianne, you mustn't answer if I call you Marianne, only when I say Susquehanna." "Yes'm," replied Marianne, very meekly. For a whole day all went on delightfully. Susquehanna lived in her wooden box, ate all the apples and the freshest of the biscuits, and was happy. The two children took it in turn to steal away and play with "the baby" as they called Marianne, even though she was a good deal bigger than Clover. But when night came and nurse came and swooped on Katy and Clover and carried them off to bed, Little Miss O'Riley began to think that the attic was a dreadful place. Peeping out of the corner of the box she could see black things standing in the corners, which she couldn't remember seeing in the daytime. They were really dark trunks and brooms and warming pans, but somehow in the darkness they looked different, big and awful. Poor little Marianne bore it as long as she could; but when at last a rat began to scratch in the wall close besides her, her courage gave way entirely, and she screamed at the top of her voice. "What on earth was that?" said Dr. Carr, who had just come in, and was on his way upstairs. "It sounds as if it came from the attic." said Mrs Carr, (for this was before Mamma died). "Can it be one of the children has got out of bed and wandered upstairs in her sleep?" No, Katy and Clover were safe in the nursery, so Dr. Carr took a candle and went to the attic as fast as he could, where the howls were growing louder. When he reached the top of the stairs the cries ceased. He looked about. Nothing was to be seen at first, then a little head appeared over the edge of the big wooden box, and a piteous voice sobbed out: "Ah, Miss Katy, and indeed I can't be staying her any longer. There's rats in it!" "Who on earth are you?" asked the amazed doctor.
"Sure but I'm Miss Katy's and Miss Clover's baby. But I don't want to be a baby any longer. I want to go home and see my mother." And again the poor little midge lifted up her voice and wept. "I don't think Dr. Carr ever laughed so hard in his life as when finally he got to the bottom of the story, and found out that Katy and Clover had been "adopting" a child. But he was very kind to poor Susquehanna, and carried her downstairs in his arms to the nursery. There, in a bed close to the other children, she soon forgot her troubles and went to sleep. The sisters were much surprised when they waked in the morning, and found their baby asleep besides them. But their joy was speedily turned to tears. After breakfast Dr Carr carried Marianne home to her mother, who was in a great fright over her disappearance, and explained to the children that the attic plan had to be given up. Great was the mourning in the nursery; but as Marianne was allowed to come and play with them now and then, they gradually got over their grief. A few months later Mr'O'Riley moved away from Burnet, and that was the end of Katy's first friendship.
The next incidence was even funnier. There was a strange old black woman who lived all alone in a small house near the school. She was well known for her very bad temper. The neighbours told horrible stories about her, so that the children were afraid to pass her house. They used to turn just before they reached it, by crossing to the other side of the street. This they did regulary that their feet had worn a path in the grass. But Katy well, she found a great fascination to the little house. She liked to dodge about the door, always holding herself ready to turn and run if need be. One day she begged a large cabbage off Alexander, and carefully rolled it into the doorway. The old woman seemed to like this and after their first cabbage meeting, Katy always stopped to speak to her. She even got as far as sitting on the front doorstop watching the woman at her work. Katy seemed to get a perilous pleasure out of this, like a lion tamer with his lions, always ready incase they spray up to eat him. Shortly after this, Kate took a fancy to a couple of twin sisters, daughters of a German Jeweller. They were quite grown up, and always wore identical dresses. Hardly anyone could tell them apart. They spoke very little English, and Katy didn't speak a word of German, but somehow they managed quite well with smiles and bunches of flowers, which Katy used to tie up and present to them when they passed the gate. She was actually shy, and after putting the flowers in their hands she would run away. However this obviously pleased the twins for one day when Clover was looking out of the window, the twins stopped by the gate, opened it and then placed a little parcel on the bush. Of course Clover tld Katy and they dashed out and taking the parcel they opened it. Inside was a bonnet, a beautiful doll's bonnet of blue silk, trimmed with artificial flowers. There was also a note, "to the nice little girl who was so kindly to give us flowers." You can imagine how pleased the two little girls were, Katy was about six at the time. I honestly couldn't tell you how many different friends she has had since then. There was the ash-man, and a steam-boat captain. There was Mrs Sawyer's cook, a niceold woman, who gave Katy lessons in cooking, and taught to make soft custard and sponge cake. Then there was the bonnet-maker, pretty and dressy, whom to Aunt Izzie's great indignation, Katy insisted in calling "Cousin Estelle!" There was a thief in the town jail, under whose window Katy used to stand saying, "I'm so sorry, poor,poor man!" and "Have you got any little girls like me?" In a most sorrowful way. The thief had a piece of string which he let down from the window and Katy would tie rose-buds and cherries to the end and he would draw the string up. It was so interesting to do this, and she was very upset when they carried him away to a big prison. But of all Katy's strange aquaintances, Mrs Spenser, to who her aunt had referred was the strangest.
Mrs Spenser was a mysterious lady whom nobody ever saw. Her husband was a handsome man, though he had something scary about him. He wasn't a local. they had arrived and rented a small house in Burnet He didn't seem to have any business and he seemed to be away a lot. His wife was said to be an invalid, and people wondered how she managed to look after herself when she was all alone in the house. Of course Katy was to young to understand these whispers, or why the adults didn't think much of her husband. And so the romance of the closed door intrigued our Miss Katy. She used to stop and stare at the windows and wonder what was going on inside the house. So one day she took some flowers and Victoria, her favourite doll, and boldly marched to the Spensers' yard. She tapped on the front door, but nobody answered. Then she tapped again. Still nobody answered. She tried the door , it was locked, so shouldering Victoria, she trudged round the back of the house. As she passed the side door she saw that it was open a little way. She locked, nobody came so in she went, passing through into a little hall. There seemed to be nobody in the house, Kate peeped in the kitchen first, it was bare and forlorn. All sorts of dishes were standing about. There was no fire in the stove. The parlour was not much better, there were dirty glasses on the table and a pair of mens boots in the middle of the floor. On the mantle piece was a platter with bones with meat upon it. Dust lay thick everywhere, the whole house looked as if it hadn't been lived in for at least a year. Katy tried several doors, all of which were locked, and then she went upstairs. As she stood at the top of the stairs grasping her flowers, and a little doubtful what to do next, a feeble voice from the bedroom called out:
"Who is there?" Mrs Spenser lay in her bed, the room was as dusty as all the other rooms in the house. Katy looked at Mrs Spenser, her clothes were unclean but her face was sweet and she had beautiful curling hair, which tumbled over the pillow. But Katy thought she looked very sick. and she felt even sorrier for her than before. "Who are you child?" asked Mrs Spenser. "I'm Dr. Carr's little girl, answered Katy, I came to bring you some flowers." And she laid the flowers on the dirty sheet. Mrs Spenser seemed to like the flowers, she took them up and smelled them for a long time, without speaking. "But how did you get in?" "The door was open," faltered Katy. "They said you were sick so I thought to bring you some flowers." "You are a kind ittle girl," said Mrs Spenser. After this Katy used to call every day, sometimes Mrs Spenser would be up and moving feebly about; but more often she was in her bed, and Katy would sit besides her. The house stayed the same but Katy used to brush Mrs Spenser's hair, and wash her face with a corner of a towel. Her visits were a comfort to the lady, who was really very ill and lonely. Sometimes when she felt a little well she would tell Katy about when she was a little girl and lived with her mother and father. But she never spoke of Mr Spenser and Katy never saw him except once, but she was so frightened she stayed away for several days. Then as soon as she was told that he had gone on the stagecoach with his carpet bag. Katy was back there straight away and Mrs Spenser cried when she saw her, from that day Katy never missed a day, always picking her the nicest flowers and saving a nice peach or grapes for her. But Aunt Izzie was beginning to worry, but Katy's father thought it was alright and so Katy kept going in to see her friend. One day however, as usual she stopped at the house but it was all locked up. All the blinds were drawn, It was very puzzling. As she stood in the yard a woman put her head out of the window of the next house. "It is no use knocking," she said; "All the folks have gone away." "Gone away where?" asked Katy. "Nobody knows" said the woman; "the gentleman came back in the middle of the night, and this morning, before light, he had a wagon at the door, and just put the trunks and the sick lady in, and drove off. There has been more than one a knocking since they left. But Mr Pudgett, he's got the key, and nobody can get in without him." It was all true, Mrs Spenser was gone and Katy never saw her again. There was talk of Mr Spencer making forged money, to which he was put in prison. Auntie Izzie thought it terrible that Katy was going to the house of a counterfeiter, but Dr Carr said, he didn't think it was catching and that was that. If Autie Izzie got vexed, she always mentioned Mrs Spenser, and the children made a new game of "putting Mr. Spenser in gaol." which was a favourite for a good while. Even now Katy got upset when Mrs Spenser's name was mentioned, she had tears now in her eyes as she walked to the gate, and looked so very sober that Imogen Clark, who was stood waiting, clasped her hands and said: "Ah, I see! Your aristocratic aunt refuses."
Imogen's real name was Elizabeth. She was rather a pretty girl, with a screwed-up, sentimental mouth, shiney brown hair, and a little round curl on each cheek. These curls must have been stuck on with glue or tin-taks, for they never seemed to move. Imogen was a bright girl naturally, but she had read so many novels that her brain was completely turned. It was partly this which made her so attractive to Katy, who adored stories, and thought Imogen was a real heroine of romance. "Oh no, she doesn't," she replied, hardly able to keep from laughing at the idea of Aunt Izzie being called an "aristocratic relative," - she say's she shall be very hap -" But here Katy's concience gave a prick, and the sentence ended in um, um, um, " "So you'll come, won't you, darling? I'm so glad!" "And I!" said Imogen, turning up her eyes theatrically. From this time on till the end of the week the children talked of nothing but Imogen's visit, and the nice time they were going to have. Before breakfast on Saturday morning, Katy and Clover were at work building a beautiful bower of asparagus boughs under the trees. All the playthings were set out in order. Debby baked them some cinnamon cakes; the kitten had a pink ribbon tied round her neck; and the dolls, including "Pikery," were arrayed in their best clothes. About half-past ten Imogen arrived. She was dresses in a light-blue barége, with low neck and short sleeves, and wore coral beads in her hair, white satin slippers, and a pair of yellow gloves. The gloves and slippers were very dirty, and the barége was old and darned; but the general effect was so very gorgeous that the children, who were dressed for play, in gingham frocks and white aprons, were quite dazzled at the appearance of their guest. "Oh, Imogen, you look just like a young lady in a story!" said simple Katy; whereupon Imogen tossed her head and rustled her skirts more than ever. Somehow, with these fine clothes, Imogen seemed to have put on a fine manner, quite different than that she used every day. You would almost have thought it was a different Imogen, one who was kept in a box through the week and bought out on weekends and grand days. When Aunt Izzie spoke to her, she fluttered and behaved so airy that Clover almost laughed out loud. In fact, Katy was glad to leave the playroom and we all know how Katy took to people. "Come on , lets go out to the bower," Katy said, putting her arm round the blue barége waist. "A bower!" cried Imogen. "How sweet!" But when they reached the asparagus boughs her face fell. Why it hasn't any roof, or pinnacles, or any fountain!" she said. "Why no, of course not," Clover said, we made it ourselves." "Oh !" said Imogen, she was evidently disappointed, Katy and Clover felt mortified; but as their visitor did not care for the bower, they tried to think of something else. Let us go too the loft," they said. So they all crossed the yard together. Imogen picked her way daintily in thew white satin slippers, but when she saw the spiked post she gave a scream. Oh, not up there, darling, not up there!" she cried; "never, never!" "Oh do try! It's just as easy as can be," pleaded Katy, going up and down half a dozen times to show her how easy the steps where. But Imogen wouldn't be persuaded. "Do not ask me," she said affectedly; "my nerves would never stand such a thing. And besides - my dress!" "What made you wear it?" asked Philly, who was a plain spoken child. While John whispered to Dorry, "That's a real stupid girl. Come on let's go off somewhere and play by ourselves. So one by one the small fry crept away leaving Katy and Clover to entertain their visitor. They tried dolls. But Imogen didn't care for dolls, then they proposed to sit in the shade, and cap verses - a game they all liked. But Imogen although she liked poetry, she never could remember any. So they ended up going to the orchard were Imogen ate a great many plums and early apples, and she really seemed to enjoy herself. Then when she got fed up with that they sat there very quietly. Don't you ever sit in the drawing room?" "The what?" asked Clover. "The drawing room," repeated Imogen. "Oh, she means the parlour! cried Katy. "No, we don't sit there except when Aunt Izzie has company to tea. It is all dark and poky, you know. Besides it is so much pleasanter to be out doors. Don't you think so?" "Yes, sometimes," replied Imogen doubtfully; "but I think it would be pleasant to go inside to sit for a while. My head aches dreadfully, being out here in this horrid sun." Katy was at her wit's end to know what to do. They scarely ever went into the parlour, which Aunt Izzie regarded as a sort of sacred place. She kep cotton petticoats over all the chairs for fear of dust, and never opened the blinds for fear of flies. The idea of children in their dusty boots going in there to sit! On the other hand, Katy's natural politeness made it hard to refuse a visitor anything she asked for. And besides, it was dreadful to think that Imogen might go away and report, "Katy Carr isn't allowed to sit in the best room even when she has company." So with a quaking heart she led the way to the parlour. She dared not opened the blinds, so the room looked very dark. She could just see Imogen's figure sat on the corner of the sofa and Clover twirling uneasily about on the piano stool. All the time she kept listening to hear if Aunt Izzie were not coming, and altogether the parlour was a dismal place to her; not half so pleasant as the asparagus bower, where they felt perfectly safe. But Imogen, who for the first time seemed comfortable, began to talk. Her talk was about herself. Such stories she told about the things which had happened to her! All the young ladies in The Ledger put together never had stranger adventures. Gradually, Katy and Clover got so interested that they left their seats and crouched down close to the sofa, listening with open mouths to these stories. Katy forgot to listen for Aunt Izzie. The parlour door swung open, but she did not notice it. She did not even hear the front door when Papa came hometo dinner. Dr Carr, stopping in the hall to glance over the newspaper, heard the high-pitched voice running in the parlour. At first he hardly listened; then the words caught his ear: "Oh it was lovely girls, perfectly delicious! I suppose I did look well, for I was all in white with my hair let down, and just one rose, you know, here on top. And he leaned over me and said in a low, deep tone: Lady, I am a Brigand but I feel the enchanting power of beauty. You are free!" Dr. Carr pushed the door open a little farther. Nothing was to be seenbut some indistinct figures, but he heard Katy's voice in eager tone; "Oh do go on, what happened next?" "Who on earth have the children got in the parlour? he asked Aunt Izzie, whom he found in the dining room. "The parlour!" cried Miss Izzie wrathfully; "why, what are they there for? Then going to the door she called out, "Children, what are you doing in the parlour? Come on out, right away. I thought you were playing out doors." "Imogen had a headache," faltered Katy. The three girls came out into the hall; Clover and Katy looked scared and even the Enchanter of the Brigand looked crestfallen. "Oh," said Aunt Izzie grimly, "I am sorry to hear that. Probably you are bilious. Would you like some camphor or anything?" "No thankyou, " replied Imogen meekly. But afterwards she whispered to Katy. "Your aunt isn't very nice, I think she's just like Jackima, that horrid old woman I told you about, who lived in the Brigands Cave and did the cooking. "I don't think you're a bit polite to tell me so," retorted Katy, very angry at this speech. "Oh never mind dear, don't take it to heart!" replied Imogen sweetly. "We can't help having relations that ain't nice, you know." The visit was evidently not a success. Papa was a very civil to Imogen at dinner, but he watched her closely, and Katy saw a comical twinkle in his eye which she did not like. Papa had very droll eyes, they saw everything, and sometimes they seemed to talk almost as distinctly as his tongue. Katy began to feel very low spirited. She confessed afterwards that she should never have got through the afternoon if she hadn't run upstairs two or three times, and comforted herself by reading a little in Rosamond. "Aren't you glad she's gone?" Whispered Clover, as they stood at the gate together watching Imogen walk down the street. "Oh Clover! How can you? said Katy. But she gave Clover a great hug, and I think in her heart she was glad.
"Katy," said Papa next day? "You came into the room then exactly like your new friend Miss Clark." "How? I don't know what you mean," answered Katy, blushing deeply. "So" said Dr. Carr; and he got up, raising his shoulders and squaring, his elbows, and took a few mincing steps across the room. Katy couldn't help laughing, it was so funny, and so like Imogen Then Papa sat down again and drew her close to him. "My dear," he said, "you're an affectionate child, and I'm glad of it. but there is such a thing as throwing away one's affection. I didn't fancy that little girl at all yesterday. What makes you like her so much? "I didn't like her so much yesterday," admitted Katy reluctantly. "She's a great deal nicer than that at school, sometimes." "I'm glad to hear it," said her father. "For I should be sorry to think that you really admired such silly manners. And what was that nonsense I heard her telling you about Brigands?" "It really hap....... " began Katy. Then she caught Papa's eye, and bit her lip, for he looked quizzical. "Well," she went on laughing, "I suppose it really didn't happen at all; but it was funny, Papa, even if it was all made up. And Imogen's just as good natured as can be. All the girls like her" "Make ups are all very well," said Papa, "as long as the people don't try to make you believe they are true. When they do that, it seems to me it comes too near the edge of falsehood to be safe or pleasant. If I were you Katy, I would be a little shy of swearing eternal friendship for Miss Clark. She maybe good natured, as you say, but I think two or three years from now she won't seem so nice to you as she does now." He smiled. "Now give me a kiss, chick and run away, for there's Alexander with the new gig.
Kayleigh of Q Gardens
THE FARMER'S ROUND
FIRST comes January, The sun lies very low: I see in the farmer's yard The cattle feed on stro'. Next is February, So early in the spring: The farmer ploughs the fallows, The rooks their nest begins.
March it is the next month, So cold and hard and drear: Prepare we now for harvest, By brewing of strong beer.
God grant that we who labour May see the reaping come, And drink and dance and welcome The Happy Harvest Home.
Next the month is April, When early in the morn The cherry farmer soweth To right and left the corn
In May I go a-walking To hear the linnets sing, The blackbird and the throstle A-praising God the King.
Full early in the morning Awakes the summer sun, The month of June arriving, The cold and night are done
The Cuckoo is a fine bird, She whistles as she flies, And as she whistles "Cuckoo" The bluer grows the skies. .
Six months I now have named, The seventh is July. Come, lads and lasses, gather The scented hay to dry.
August brings the harvest: The reapers now advance Against their shining sickles The field stands little chance. By middle of September, The rake is laid aside, The horses wear the breeching, Rich dressing to provide.
All things to do in a season, Methinks is just and right Now summer season's over, The frosts begin at night... October leads in winter,
The leaves begin to fall, The trees will soon be naked, No flowers left at all.
The eleventh month, November, The night are long and cold, By day we're felling timber, And spend the night in song.
Then comes dark December, The last of months in turn: With holly, box, and laurel We house and church adorn.
So now, to end my story, I wish you all good cheer, For a merry, happy Christmas, And a Prosperous New Year.
A long time ago in ancient China a farmer went to market. He had
luscious pears to sell and was determined to ask a very high price.
Once he had found a good place in the market, he cried out: "Pears,
beautiful pears...!"
Whilst he called attention to his goods, an old ragged-looking monk
approached him. He humbly asked to be given one of the pears. The
farmer said: "Why should I give a pear to you? You're as lazy as
anything and haven't done an honest day's work in your life." As the
monk did not walk away but repeated his request, the farmer became more
and more angry. He called him the nastiest things under the sun.
"Good sir, " said the monk, "I cannot count the number of pears in
your wheelbarrow. You have hundreds of them. I have only asked for one
pear. Why has this made you so angry?"
By then a large crowd of people had assembled around the farmer and
the poor monk. "Give him a little pear," someone suggested, in the hope
that this might solve the problem. "Do as the old man asks, for
heaven's sake it is only a pear," another one remarked, but the farmer
wouldn't hear of it. "No is no is no," he said. Finally an elderly man
bought one of the pears and handed it reverently to the old monk.
The monk bowed, thanked the elderly man and said: "You know that I
am a holy man. When I became a monk I gave up everything. I have no
home, no clothes which I may call my own, no food other than what is
given to me. How can you refuse to give me a single pear when I ask for
it? I shall not be this selfish. I invite every one of you to eat one
of the pears that I have grown. It shall be an honour if you accept my
invitation."
The people were startled. Why had the monk asked for a pear if he
had so many pears with him? He did not seem to carry anything. What did
the old man mean?
The monk ate his pear with great concentration until there was just
one small pip left. He quickly dug a hole in the ground, planted the
pip and gently covered it with earth. Then he asked for a cup of water.
One of the people in the crowd handed him the water. The monk poured it
on the soil. Hardly any time had passed when the bystanders saw some
green leaves sprouting from the earth. These leaves grew very quickly.
The people were astounded. In front of their eyes stood a small pear
tree with branches and more branches and leaves, more and more leaves.
Where the old monk had planted the little pip only minutes ago, there
was now a small pear tree. It continued to grow faster and faster. They
could see it grow.
Silence fell in the marketplace as the tree burst into flower and
the flowers slowly turned into large, sweet-smelling pears. The monk's
face was aglow with pleasure. He picked the pears one by one, and
handed them to each person who had witnessed the pear tree's miraculous
growth. He handed them out and handed them out until everyone had been
refreshed by a delicious pear. Then the monk took his axe and before
the people even realized what was happening, the pear tree was cut
down. The monk simply picked the tree up, put it over his shoulder and
went on his way.
The farmer had watched the scene in amazement. He had not been able
to believe his eyes when the pear tree grew out of the ground so near
to his very own wheelbarrow which was full of pears. He looked at the
barrow. It was empty. Not a single pear was left in it. One of the
handles of the barrow was missing, too. Then the farmer knew what had
happened. The old monk had used his pears to create the wonderful pear
tree.
Louisa May Alcott (November 29, 1832 – March 6, 1888) was an American novelist. She is best known for the novel Little Women, written and set in the Alcott family home, Orchard House
in Concord, Massachusetts and published in 1868. This novel is loosely
based on her childhood experiences with her three sisters.
EVA'S VISIT TO FAIRY-LAND.
DOWN among the grass and fragrant clover lay little Eva by the
brook-side, watching the bright waves, as they went singing by under
the drooping flowers that grew on its banks. As she was wondering where
the waters went, she heard a faint, low sound, as of far-off music. She
thought it was the wind, but not a leaf was stirring, and soon through
the rippling water came a strange little boat.
It was a lily of the valley, whose tall stem formed the mast, while
the broad leaves that rose from the roots, and drooped again till they
reached the water, were filled with gay little Elves, who danced to the
music of the silver lily-bells above, that rang a merry peal, and
filled the air with their fragrant breath.
On came the fairy boat, till it reached a moss-grown rock; and here
it stopped, while the Fairies rested beneath the violet-leaves, and
sang with the dancing waves.
Eva looked with wonder on their gay faces and bright garments, and
in the joy of her heart sang too, and threw crimson fruit for the
little folks to feast upon.
They looked kindly on the child, and, after whispering long among
themselves, two little bright-eyed Elves flew over the shining water,
and, lighting on the clover-blossoms, said gently, "Little maiden, many
thanks for your kindness; and our Queen bids us ask if you will go with
us to Fairy-Land, and learn what we can teach you."
"Gladly would I go with you, dear Fairies," said Eva, "but I cannot
sail in your little boat. See! I can hold you in my hand, and could not
live among you without harming your tiny kingdom, I am so large."
Then the Elves laughed gayly, as they folded their arms about her,
saying, "You are a good child, dear Eva, to fear doing harm to those
weaker than yourself. You cannot hurt us now. Look in the water and see
what we have done."
Eva looked into the brook, and saw a tiny child standing between the
Elves. "Now I can go with you," said she, "but see, I can no longer
step from the bank to yonder stone, for the brook seems now like a
great river, and you have not given me wings like yours."
But the Fairies took each a hand, and flew lightly over the stream.
The Queen and her subjects came to meet her, and all seemed glad to say
some kindly word of welcome to the little stranger. They placed a
flower-crown upon her head, laid their soft faces against her own, and
soon it seemed as if the gentle Elves had always been her friends.
"Now must we go home," said the Queen, "and you shall go with us, little one."
Then there was a great bustle, as they flew about on shining wings,
some laying cushions of violet leaves in the boat, others folding the
Queen's veil and mantle more closely round her, lest the falling dews
should chill her.
The cool waves' gentle plashing against the boat, and the sweet
chime of the lily-bells, lulled little Eva to sleep, and when she woke
it was in Fairy-Land. A faint, rosy light, as of the setting sun, shone
on the white pillars of the Queen's palace as they passed in, and the
sleeping flowers leaned gracefully on their stems, dreaming beneath
their soft green curtains. All was cool and still, and the Elves glided
silently about, lest they should break their slumbers. They led Eva to
a bed of pure white leaves, above which drooped the fragrant petals of
a crimson rose.
"You can look at the bright colors till the light fades, and then
the rose will sing you to sleep," said the Elves, as they folded the
soft leaves about her, gently kissed her, and stole away.
Long she lay watching the bright shadows, and listening to the song
of the rose, while through the long night dreams of lovely things
floated like bright clouds through her mind; while the rose bent
lovingly above her, and sang in the clear moonlight.
With the sun rose the Fairies, and, with Eva, hastened away to the
fountain, whose cool waters were soon filled with little forms, and the
air ringing with happy voices, as the Elves floated in the blue waves
among the fair white lilies, or sat on the green moss, smoothing their
bright locks, and wearing fresh garlands of dewy flowers. At length the
Queen came forth, and her subjects gathered round her, and while the
flowers bowed their heads, and the trees hushed their rustling, the
Fairies sang their morning hymn to the Father of birds and blossoms,
who had made the earth so fair a home for them.
Then they flew away to the gardens, and soon, high up among the
tree-tops, or under the broad leaves, sat the Elves in little groups,
taking their breakfast of fruit and pure fresh dew; while the
bright-winged birds came fearlessly among them, pecking the same ripe
berries, and dipping their little beaks in the same flower-cups, and
the Fairies folded their arms lovingly about them, smoothed their soft
bosoms, and gayly sang to them.
"Now, little Eva," said they, "you will see that Fairies are not
idle, wilful Spirits, as mortals believe. Come, we will show you what
we do."
They led her to a lovely room, through whose walls of deep green
leaves the light stole softly in. Here lay many wounded insects, and
harmless little creatures, whom cruel hands had hurt; and pale,
drooping flowers grew beside urns of healing herbs, from whose fresh
leaves came a faint, sweet perfume.
Eva wondered, but silently followed her guide, little Rose-Leaf, who
with tender words passed among the delicate blossoms, pouring dew on
their feeble roots, cheering them with her loving words and happy smile.
Then she went to the insects; first to a little fly who lay in a flower-leaf cradle.
"Do you suffer much, dear Gauzy-Wing?" asked the Fairy. "I will bind
up your poor little leg, and Zephyr shall rock you to sleep." So she
folded the cool leaves tenderly about the poor fly, bathed his wings,
and brought him refreshing drink, while he hummed his thanks, and
forgot his pain, as Zephyr softly sung and fanned him with her waving
wings.
They passed on, and Eva saw beside each bed a Fairy, who with gentle
hands and loving words soothed the suffering insects. At length they
stopped beside a bee, who lay among sweet honeysuckle flowers, in a
cool, still place, where the summer wind blew in, and the green leaves
rustled pleasantly. Yet he seemed to find no rest, and murmured of the
pain he was doomed to bear. "Why must I lie here, while my kindred are
out in the pleasant fields, enjoying the sunlight and the fresh air,
and cruel hands have doomed me to this dark place and bitter pain when
I have done no wrong? Uncared for and forgotten, I must stay here among
these poor things who think only of themselves. Come here, Rose-Leaf,
and bind up my wounds, for I am far more useful than idle bird or fly."
Then said the Fairy, while she bathed the broken wing,--
"Love-Blossom, you should not murmur. We may find happiness in
seeking to be patient even while we suffer. You are not forgotten or
uncared for, but others need our care more than you, and to those who
take cheerfully the pain and sorrow sent, do we most gladly give our
help. You need not be idle, even though lying here in darkness and
sorrow; you can be taking from your heart all sad and discontented
feelings, and if love and patience blossom there, you will be better
for the lonely hours spent here. Look on the bed beside you; this
little dove has suffered far greater pain than you, and all our care
can never ease it; yet through the long days he hath lain here, not an
unkind word or a repining sigh hath he uttered. Ah, Love-Blossom, the
gentle bird can teach a lesson you will be wiser and better for."
Then a faint voice whispered, "Little Rose-Leaf, come quickly, or I cannot thank you as I ought for all your loving care of me."
So they passed to the bed beside the discontented bee, and here upon
the softest down lay the dove, whose gentle eyes looked gratefully upon
the Fairy, as she knelt beside the little couch, smoothed the soft
white bosom, folded her arms about it and wept sorrowing tears, while
the bird still whispered its gratitude and love.
"Dear Fairy, the fairest flowers have cheered me with their sweet
breath, fresh dew and fragrant leaves have been ever ready for me,
gentle hands to tend, kindly hearts to love; and for this I can only
thank you and say farewell."
Then the quivering wings were still, and the patient little dove was
dead; but the bee murmured no longer, and the dew from the flowers fell
like tears around the quiet bed.
Sadly Rose-Leaf led Eva away, saying, "Lily-Bosom shall have a grave
tonight beneath our fairest blossoms, and you shall see that gentleness
and love are prized far above gold or beauty, here in Fairy-Land. Come
now to the Flower Palace, and see the Fairy Court."
Beneath green arches, bright with birds and flowers, beside singing
waves, went Eva into a lofty hall. The roof of pure white lilies rested
on pillars of green clustering vines, while many-colored blossoms threw
their bright shadows on the walls, as they danced below in the deep
green moss, and their low, sweet voices sounded softly through the
sunlit palace, while the rustling leaves kept time.
Beside the throne stood Eva, and watched the lovely forms around
her, as they stood, each little band in its own color, with glistening
wings, and flower wands.
Suddenly the music grew louder and sweeter, and the Fairies knelt,
and bowed their heads, as on through the crowd of loving subjects came
the Queen, while the air was filled with gay voices singing to welcome
her.
She placed the child beside her, saying, "Little Eva, you shall see
now how the flowers on your great earth bloom so brightly. A band of
loving little gardeners go daily forth from Fairy-Land, to tend and
watch them, that no harm may befall the gentle spirits that dwell
beneath their leaves. This is never known, for like all good it is
unseen by mortal eyes, and unto only pure hearts like yours do we make
known our secret. The humblest flower that grows is visited by our
messengers, and often blooms in fragrant beauty unknown, unloved by all
save Fairy friends, who seek to fill the spirits with all sweet and
gentle virtues, that they may not be useless on the earth; for the
noblest mortals stoop to learn of flowers. Now, Eglantine, what have
you to tell us of your rosy namesakes on the earth?"
From a group of Elves, whose rose-wreathed wands showed the
flower they loved, came one bearing a tiny urn, and, answering the
Queen, she said,--
"Over hill and valley they are blooming fresh and fair as summer sun
and dew can make them. No drooping stem or withered leaf tells of any
evil thought within their fragrant bosoms, and thus from the fairest of
their race have they gathered this sweet dew, as a token of their
gratitude to one whose tenderness and care have kept them pure and
happy; and this, the loveliest of their sisters, have I brought to
place among the Fairy flowers that never pass away."
Eglantine laid the urn before the Queen, and placed the fragrant
rose on the dewy moss beside the throne, while a murmur of approval
went through the hall, as each elfin wand waved to the little Fairy who
had toiled so well and faithful]y, and could bring so fair a gift to
their good Queen.
Then came forth an Elf bearing a withered leaf, while her
many-colored robe and the purple tulips in her hair told her name and
charge.
"Dear Queen," she sadly said, "I would gladly bring as pleasant
tidings as my sister, but, alas! my flowers are proud and wilful, and
when I went to gather my little gift of colored leaves for royal
garments, they bade me bring this withered blossom, and tell you they
would serve no longer one who will not make them Queen over all the
other flowers. They would yield neither dew nor honey, but proudly
closed their leaves and bid me go."
"Your task has been too hard for you," said the Queen kindly, as she
placed the drooping flower in the urn Eglantine had given, "you will
see how this dew from a sweet, pure heart will give new life and
loveliness even to this poor faded one. So can you, dear Rainbow, by
loving words and gentle teachings, bring back lost purity and peace to
those whom pride and selfishness have blighted. Go once again to the
proud flowers, and tell them when they are queen of their own hearts
they will ask no fairer kingdom. Watch more tenderly than ever over
them, see that they lack neither dew nor air, speak lovingly to them,
and let no unkind word or deed of theirs anger you. Let them see by
your patient love and care how much fairer they might be, and when next
you come, you will be laden with gifts from humble, loving flowers."
Thus they told what they had done, and received from their Queen some gentle chiding or loving word of praise.
"You will be weary of this," said little Rose-Leaf to Eva; "come now
and see where we are taught to read the tales written on flower-
leaves, and the sweet language of the birds, and all that can make a
Fairy heart wiser and better."
Then into a cheerful place they went, where were many groups of
flowers, among whose leaves sat the child Elves, and learned from their
flower-books all that Fairy hands had written there. Some studied how
to watch the tender buds, when to spread them to the sunlight, and when
to shelter them from rain; how to guard the ripening seeds, and when to
lay them in the warm earth or send them on the summer wind to far off
hills and valleys, where other Fairy hands would tend and cherish them,
till a sisterhood of happy flowers sprang up to beautify and gladden
the lonely spot where they had fallen. Others learned to heal the
wounded insects, whose frail limbs a breeze could shatter, and who,
were it not for Fairy hands, would die ere half their happy summer life
had gone. Some learned how by pleasant dreams to cheer and comfort
mortal hearts, by whispered words of love to save from evil deeds those
who had gone astray, to fill young hearts with gentle thoughts and pure
affections, that no sin might mar the beauty of the human flower; while
others, like mortal children, learned the Fairy alphabet.
Thus the
Elves made loving friends by care and love, and no evil thing could
harm them, for those they helped to cherish and protect ever watched to
shield and save them.
Eva nodded to the gay little ones, as they peeped from among the
leaves at the stranger, and then she listened to the Fairy lessons.
Several tiny Elves stood on a broad leaf while the teacher sat among
the petals of a flower that bent beside them, and asked questions that
none but Fairies would care to know.
"Twinkle, if there lay nine seeds within a flower-cup and the wind
bore five away, how many would the blossom have?" "Four," replied the
little one.
"Rosebud, if a Cowslip opens three leaves in one day and four the
next, how many rosy leaves will there be when the whole flower has
bloomed?"
"Seven," sang the gay little Elf.
"Harebell, if a silkworm spin one yard of Fairy cloth in an hour, how many will it spin in a day?"
"Twelve," said the Fairy child.
"Primrose, where lies Violet Island?"
"In the Lake of Ripples."
"Lilla, you may bound Rose Land."
"On the north by Ferndale, south by Sunny Wave River, east by the hill of Morning Clouds, and west by the Evening Star."
"Now, little ones," said the teacher, "you may go to your painting,
that our visitor may see how we repair the flowers that earthly hands
have injured."
Then Eva saw how, on large, white leaves, the Fairies learned to
imitate the lovely colors, and with tiny brushes to brighten the blush
on the anemone's cheek, to deepen the blue of the violet's eye, and add
new light to the golden cowslip.
"You have stayed long enough," said the Elves at length, "we have
many things to show you. Come now and see what is our dearest work."
So Eva said farewell to the child Elves, and hastened with little
Rose-Leaf to the gates. Here she saw many bands of Fairies, folded in
dark mantles that mortals might not know them, who, with the child
among them, flew away over hill and valley. Some went to the cottages
amid the hills, some to the sea-side to watch above the humble fisher
folks; but little Rose-Leaf and many others went into the noisy city.
written by the wonderful Louisa May Alcott
HERE IS A WONDERFUL VIDEO OF HEIDI; A LITTLE GIRL WHO WAS TAKEN BY HER AUNTIE , TO LIVE IN THE MOUNTAINS WITH HER GRAND-FATHER.
JUST CLICK ON ^ THE DVD SLOT NEXT TO START ON VIDEO BOX IF THE "ERROR" SLOGAN SHOWS, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH VIDEO
The Little Grey Squirrel
Little grey squirrel that lives in a tree, You have no cause to be frightened by me. All through the winter you've been fast asleep Now from your cosy nest gaily you'll creep. When you awoke did hear the bird's sing, telling you of the arrival of Spring? Winter has gone with the ice and the snow Come down from your tree to the acorns below.
From to branch to branch as so lightly you bound, Few are the nuts up there now to be found, But where the snow has quite melted away You'll find provisions for many a day On the green turf at the foot of your home, If such a distance you'll venture to roam; Come then, be brave and come into the sun
Gather your nuts and back home you can run.
KAYLEIGH OF Q GARDENS
Wonderful words from Grand-parents this little tale is from Russia. What a way to open a web site. Wonderful say's Seligor and Diddily
Every Man Loves the Tree that gives Him Shelter
Great-Grandfather
planted an acorn the day Grandfather was born, and Grandfather was
forty two when Father was born, and ninety years and two days old when
Vanya first saw the light. The first thing Vanya remembered of his
Grandfather was seeing him sitting on a hot day in the shade of the
fine broad oak at the end of the garden, sucking his old clay pipe, and
crumbling a bit of bread for the birds, who no more feared the old boy
than if he had been a branch of the tree itself. Often the pipe was
empty, but still he sucked away; and
after the bread was scattered his withered fingers kept on crumbling at
nothing, while he sat nodding and smiling placidly at the sun on the
grass beyond the thick green shelter. First Vanya would be left beside
him in an old sugar box on wheels, which Grandfather pushed a little to
and fro. Later, the child sat playing in the shade with the old man,
the one as contented as the other. One day Vanya looked from
the oak-shade to his mother pegging out washing in the sun, and he
said, "I like my mother best of all things in the world." "That's right," said Grandfather. Your mother's yer shelter, Vanya." "What do you like best, grandad?" "My tree," said Grandfather. Father,
passing with a barrow load of weeds, called out, "That's right , daddy!
every man loves the tree that gives him shelter." Then
Grandfather felt in his pocket and pulled out an acorn. "Plant that."
he said to Vanya, "and when your mother's no more and your're an old
dad like me, you'll not want for shelter till the earth is your roof."
I found this story in Eleanor Farjeon's Book. Stories, Verses and Plays.