The Child's World: Third Reader

A CHRISTMAS WISH

—EUGENE FIELD.

THE CHRISTMAS BELLS

I

Long, long ago, in a far away city, there was a large church. The tower of this church was so high that it seamed to touch the clouds, and in the high tower there were three wonderful bells. When they rang, they made sweet music.

There was something strange about these bells. They were never heard to ring except on Christmas eve, and no one knew who rang them. Some people thought it was the wind blowing through the tower. Others thought the angels rang them when a gift pleased the Christ Child.

Although the people did not know what rang the bells, they loved to hear them. They would come from miles around to listen to the wonderful music. When they had heard the bells, they would go out of the church, silent but happy. Then all would go back to their homes feeling that Christmas had come, indeed.

One Christmas eve the people in the church waited and waited, but the bells did not ring. Silently and sadly they went home. Christmas after Christmas came and went. Nearly one hundred years passed by, and in all that time the bells did not ring.

People sometimes asked one another, "Do you suppose the bells ever did ring?"

"Yes," said one very old man. "I have often heard my father tell how beautifully they rang on Christmas eve. There was more love in the world then."

Every Christmas eve the church was filled with people who waited and listened. They hoped that the bells would ring again as they had rung long ago. Though many gifts were laid on the altar, still the bells did not ring.

II

Christmas was near at hand again, and every one was happy.

Not far from the city two little brothers lived on a farm—Pedro and Little Brother.

Their father was poor and had no gift to lay on the altar. But Pedro had saved all his earnings, and he had one shining silver piece. His father had promised the little boys that they might go to the church on Christmas eve and take the gift.

It was quite dark when the lads started on their way to the city. The snow was falling fast, but they buttoned their little jackets close about them and walked along briskly. They were not far from the church when they heard a low whine of distress. Little Brother, clinging to Pedro in fear, cried, "What is it, Pedro, what is it?"

Pedro ran across the street, and there under a small heap of snow, what do you think he found? A little black and white dog, shivering with cold, and nearly starved. Pedro opened his jacket, and put the dog inside to keep it warm.

"You will have to go to the church alone, Little Brother," Pedro said. "I must take this little dog back to the farm, and give it food, else it will die."

"But I don't want to go alone, Pedro," said Little Brother.

"Won't you please go and put my gift on the altar, Little Brother? I wish so much to have it there to-night."

"Yes, Pedro, I will," said Little Brother.

He took the gift and started toward the church. Pedro turned and went home.

When Little Brother came to the great stone church and looked up at the high tower, he felt that he could not go in alone. He stood outside a long time watching the people as they passed in. At last he entered quietly and took a seat in a corner.

III

When Little Brother went into the church, all the people were seated. They sat quietly hoping that at last the bells would ring again as in the days of old.

The organ pealed out a Christmas hymn. The choir and the people arose, and all sang the grand old anthem. Then a solemn voice said, "Bring now your gifts to the altar."

The king arose and went forward with stately tread. Bowing before the altar, he laid upon it his golden crown. Then he walked proudly back to his seat. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.

Then the queen arose and with haughty step walked to the front. She took from her neck and wrists her beautiful jewels and laid them upon the altar. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.

Then the soldiers came marching proudly forward. They took their jeweled swords from their belts and laid them upon the altar. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.

Then the rich men came hurrying forward. They counted great sums of gold and laid them in a businesslike way upon the altar. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.

"Can I go all alone to the front of the church and lay this small gift on the altar?" said Little Brother. "Oh, how can I? how can I?"

Then he said, "But I told Pedro I would, and I must."

So he slipped slowly around by the outer aisle. He crept quietly up to the altar and softly laid the silver piece upon the very edge.

And listen! What do you think was heard? The bells, the bells!

Oh, how happy the people were! And how happy Little Brother was! He ran out of the church and down the road toward the farm.

Pedro had warmed the dog and fed it, and was now on the way to the city. He hoped that he might see the people come out of the church.

Down the road Little Brother came running. Throwing himself into Pedro's arms, he cried, "Oh, Pedro, Pedro! The bells, the bells! I wish you could have heard them; and they rang when I laid your gift on the altar."

"I did hear them, Little Brother," said Pedro. "Their sound came to me over the snow,—the sweetest music I ever heard."

Long years after, when Pedro grew to be a man, he was a great musician. Many, many people came to hear him play.

Some one said to him one day, "How can you play so sweetly? I never heard such music before."

"Ah," said Pedro, "but you never heard the Christmas bells as I heard them that Christmas night years and years ago."

—OLD TALE RETOLD.

GOD BLESS THE MASTER OF THIS HOUSE

—OLD ENGLISH RIME.

SQUEAKY AND THE SCARE BOX

I

Once upon a time a family of mice lived in the pantry wall. There was a father mouse, there was a mother mouse, and there were three little baby mice.

One little mouse had sharp bright eyes and could see everything, even in the darkest holes. He was called Sharpeyes. His brother could sniff and smell anything, wherever it might be hidden, and he was called Sniffy. The baby mouse had such a squeaky little voice that he was called Squeaky. He was always singing, "Ee-ee-ee!"

Mother mouse was very wise, and she had taught her babies to run and hide when they saw the old cat coming. She had also taught them not to go near a trap. The little mice obeyed their mother, and they were happy in their home in the pantry wall.

They had many good times together. I could not tell you about all of these, but I am going to tell you about their Christmas party and what happened to Squeaky.

It was the night before Christmas. The stockings hung by the chimney, and the tall tree was standing in the parlor. The children were asleep, and the father and mother had gone upstairs to bed.

In the pantry wall, the little mice were all wide-awake.

"Ee-ee-ee!" squeaked Squeaky; "why can't we creep into the big room and see the tall Christmas tree? The children have talked about it for days, and we have never seen one. Mother, please let us go and see it."

"Yes," said Sniffy, "do let us go. Everything smells so good. The children and the cook made long strings of pop corn to-day. I found a little on the pantry floor, and I want some more."

"I peeped out of our hole," said Sharpeyes, "and I saw cake and candy all ready for the children. Oh, I do want a bite of those good things! Please let us have a Christmas party."

"Well," said mother mouse, "I will ask your father. If he says it is safe, we will go."

When mother mouse asked father mouse, he said, "I will go out first and look all about. If it is safe, I will come back for you."

So father mouse crept softly through the pantry, down the long hall, and into the parlor. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Father mouse ran back to the pantry and cried, "The cat is not near; come and see the tree."

II

Then all the mice came scampering from the hole in the wall. They crept through the pantry, down the long hall, and into the parlor. When they saw the tall Christmas tree, they squeaked again and again in their joy. Then they ran around and around the tree to see what was on it.

On the floor they saw a wonderful doll's house. "How fine it would be to live there!" they squeaked.

They ran up and down the stairs, sat on the chairs, and lay down in the beds. Oh, they had a merry time!

Then Sniffy said, "I smell that good pop corn again. Let's climb up into the Christmas tree and get some."

They climbed up into the tree. They nibbled the pop corn; they nibbled the candy; they nibbled the nuts; and they nibbled the cakes.

Soon Sharpeyes cried out, "Come here, I see a mouse! I see a mouse! But he doesn't look like our family at all."

"I should say not," sniffed Sniffy; "and how good he smells!"

"Why, he is good to eat!" squeaked Squeaky; and they all began to eat the chocolate mouse.

Then they found another candy mouse—a pretty pink one. They were so busy eating it that they forgot to watch and listen; then—bang! The door was opened, and the lights were turned on.

With a squeak, the mice scampered down from the tree; then they ran along the hall, through the pantry, and back to their home. There was the father mouse, and the mother mouse, and Sharpeyes, and Sniffy. But where was Squeaky?

III

Now, as Squeaky tried to run down the tree, he fell heels over head. Down, down, down, he fell until he was caught in a funny box. An ugly man with black hair and black whiskers seemed to be hopping out of the box.

When Squeaky saw the lights turned on, he hid under the dress of this queer man. He lay very, very still, for he had been taught to be still when danger was near. He heard voices. The father and mother had come back.

"Yes," the father was saying; "it would have been a shame to forget this train. I would like it to come right out from under the tree. Help me put the track down, mother."

When the train was just where it should be, the mother turned to the beautiful tree.

"Why, look at that Jack-in-the-box," she said. "The man is hanging out. That will never do. I will shut the box. Teddy must see the man jump out."

The mother pushed the man with the black hair down, down, into the box and shut the lid. Poor Squeaky felt the springs close down on him and squeaked, "Ee-ee-"

"That was a fine squeak," said the father. "The toys are wonderful these days."

"Yes," said the mother, as she turned off the light. "When I was a child, we did not have such toys."

"I am in a trap," said poor Squeaky, "but there isn't even a bit of cheese in it. I wonder what kind of trap it is; nothing seems to hurt me. Well, I am safe for a while, and I hope I shall soon get out."

Squeaky lay in the box all night, and wondered what Sniffy and Sharpeyes were doing. The next morning, he heard children calling, "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" And soon the toys were taken down, one by one. Then such a noise was heard—drums beating, horns tooting, children shouting. You should have heard it.

"See our new doll's house!" cried one child.

"See my new train! How fast it goes!" cried another.

"And see my beautiful dolly!" cried another. "She can open and shut her eyes."

By and by the mother took the box from the tree. "Come here, Teddy," she said. "Here is a scare box. We will have some fun. Watch me open the lid."

Teddy stood by his mother and watched closely.

"Are you ready?" asked his mother. "Well, let us count. One, two, three!"

The lid flew open, and out jumped the man with the black hair and black whiskers. And with a squeak of joy, out jumped the mouse.

"Ee-ee-ee!" he cried, as he ran away.

"Ee!" said the Jack-in-the-box.

"Whee-ee-ee!" cried the boy with delight.

"Oh,—a mouse! a mouse!" cried the mother. Then she threw the box on the floor and jumped up on her chair.

"Where? where?" cried all the children.

But they saw only the tip of Squeaky's tail as he ran across the hall to the pantry. Another moment and he was safe in the hole in the pantry wall.

The children's father laughed as he helped their mother climb down from the chair.

"Well," he said, "how did you enjoy Teddy's scare box?"

—GEORGENE FAULKNER.

THE GLAD NEW YEAR

—MARY MAPES DODGE.

MAKING THE BEST OF IT

"What a dreary day it is!" grumbled the old gray goose to the brown hen. They were standing at the henhouse window watching the falling snow which covered every nook and corner of the farmyard.

"Yes, indeed," said the brown hen. "I should almost be willing to be made into a chicken pie on such a day."

She had scarcely stopped talking when Pekin duck said fretfully, "I am so hungry that I am almost starved."

A little flock of chickens all huddled together wailed in sad tones, "And we are so thirsty!"

In fact, all the feathered folk in the henhouse seemed cross and fretful. It is no wonder they felt that way, for they had had nothing to eat or drink since early in the morning. The cold wind howled around their house. Hour after hour went by, but no one came near the henhouse.

The handsome white rooster, however, seemed as happy as usual. That is saying a great deal, for a jollier old fellow than he never lived in a farmyard. Sunshine, rain, or snow were all the same to him, and he crowed quite as merrily in stormy weather as in fair.

"Well," he said, laughing, as he looked about the henhouse, "you all seem to be having a fit of dumps."

Nobody answered the white rooster, but a faint cluck or two came from some of the hens. They immediately put their heads back under their wings, however, as if ashamed of having spoken at all.

This was too much for the white rooster. He stood first on one yellow foot and then on the other. Turning his head from side to side, he said, "What's the use of looking so sad? Any one would think that you expected to be eaten by a band of hungry foxes."

Just then a brave little white bantam rooster hopped down from his perch. He strutted over to the big rooster and caused quite a flutter in the henhouse by saying:

"We're lively enough when our crops are full, but when we are starving, it is a wonder that we can hold our heads up at all. If I ever see that farmer's boy again, I'll—I'll—I'll peck his foot!"

"You won't see him until he feeds us," said the white rooster, "and then I guess you will peck his corn."

"Oh, oh!" moaned the brown hen. "Don't speak of a peck of corn."

"Madam," said the white rooster, bowing very low, "your trouble is my own,—that is, I'm hungry, too. But we might be worse off. We might be in a box on our way to market. It is true that we haven't had anything to eat to-day, but we at least have room enough to stretch our wings."

"Why, that is a fact," clucked the brown hen. And all the feathered family—even the smallest chickens—stretched their wings, and looked a little more cheerful.

"Now, then," went on the rooster, "suppose we have a little music to cheer us and help pass the hours until roosting time. Let us all crow. There, I beg your pardon, ladies; I am sorry you can't crow. Let us sing a happy song. Will you be kind enough to start a merry tune, Mrs. Brown Hen?"

The brown hen shook herself proudly, tossed her head back and began,—"Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-ca!" In less than two minutes every one in the henhouse had joined her. The white rooster was the loudest of all, and the little bantam rooster stretched his neck and did the best he could.

Now, the horses, cows, and sheep were not far away. They heard the happy voices, and they, too, joined in the grand chorus. The pigs did their best to sing louder than all the rest.

Higher and higher, stronger and stronger, rose the chorus. Louder and louder quacked the ducks. Shriller and shriller squealed the pigs.

They were all so happy that they quite forgot their hunger until the door of the henhouse burst open, and in came three chubby children. Each was carrying a dish of hot chicken food.

"Don't stop your music, Mr. Rooster," said the little girl, who was bundled up until you could scarcely see her dear little face.

"You see, we were so lonesome that we didn't know what to do. We heard you folk singing out here, and we laughed and laughed until we almost cried. Then we went to tell Jack about you. He was lonesome, too, for he's sick with a sore throat, you know. He said, 'Why, those poor hens! They haven't been fed since morning! Go and feed them.' And so we came."

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" said the white rooster. "This comes of making the best of things. Cock-a-doodle-doo!" And nobody asked him to stop crowing.

—FRANCES M. FOX.

THE ANIMALS AND THE MIRROR

I

Aunt Susan sent an old-fashioned looking-glass to the barn to be stored in the loft, with other old furniture. The farm boy stood it on the floor of the barn until he should have time to put it away. The mirror was broad and long, and it was set in a dark wooden frame.

An old duck wandered into the barn and caught sight of herself in the mirror. "There is another duck," she said. "I wonder who she is."

And she walked toward the reflection. "She is rather friendly," the duck went on. "She is walking toward me. What large feet she has, but her feathers are very handsome."

Just then she bumped into the mirror. "Goodness!" she cried; "if that duck isn't in a glass case! Why are you in there?"

"Well, you needn't answer if you don't want to," she said, walking away. "A glass case is a good place for you."

Just then a pig came along, and nosing around, he came in front of the mirror.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, thinking he saw another pig. His nose hit the glass, and he stepped back.

"So you are in a glass pen," he said. "You are not very handsome, and your nose is not so long as mine; I cannot see why you should have a glass pen."

And away he trotted to tell the other pigs about the very plain-looking pig.

Kitty came along next and walked in front of the mirror, turning her head and swinging her tail. She had seen a mirror before and knew what it was. The cat wished to look in the mirror, but she saw the dog coming in the door, and she did not want him to think her vain.

The dog walked over to the mirror and gazed in it. Then he looked foolish, although he had seen a mirror before, too, but not so often as puss.

"Thought it was another dog, didn't you?" she laughed. "Here comes the donkey. Let us hide behind those barrels and see what he does."

II

The donkey went up to the mirror.

"If they haven't another donkey!" he said. "I suppose I should speak first, as I have lived here so long. Why, he is coming to meet me. That is friendly, indeed."

Bump! his nose hit the glass.

"Well, I had better give up!" he said. "You are in a glass case, but I don't know why you should be. You are a homely creature, and your ears are not so long as mine." And he walked off with a disgusted air.

The cat rolled over and over, and the dog buried his head in his paws. "Did you ever see anything so funny?" he said to puss.

"Hush!" she replied, "Here is the rooster."

The rooster stopped quite still when he saw himself in the mirror.

"Well, where did you come from?" he asked, ruffling up his feathers. He walked straight to the mirror and flew at the other rooster. Bang! He went against the glass.

"In a glass case, are you?" he said. He stretched out his neck and looked very fierce. "You should be; you are a sight—your feathers are ruffled, and you are not half so handsome as I am."

And off he walked, satisfied that he was handsomer than the other rooster.

"Oh, dear!" laughed the cat. "I certainly shall scream. They all think they are handsomer than their reflections. Here comes the turkey gobbler. Let us see what he does."

The gobbler walked slowly over to the mirror and looked at his reflection.

"Now," he asked, "where in the world did they get you? You are an old, bald-headed creature, and your feathers need oiling. You look like a last year's turkey." And off he strutted.

The cat and the dog leaned against the barrels and laughed until the tears ran down their faces.

"Keep still," said the dog. "Here comes speckled hen and her chickens."

Speckled hen walked around, picking up bits of corn. Suddenly she looked up and saw the mirror.

"There is a hen with a brood of chicks, but they are not so handsome as mine," she said, walking toward the looking-glass. "Where do you live? I know you do not belong here." And she looked closer at the other hen.

Click! Her bill hit the glass.

"Well, if she isn't in a glass coop!" the hen said, stepping back. "If master has bought her and those chicks, there will be trouble. Mercy! One of the chicks is bow-legged, and they are a skinny looking lot."

Then she clucked to her chicks and walked out of the barn.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" laughed the dog; "they all think the same. They certainly are a conceited lot. Here comes the goose."

III

The goose waddled over to the mirror.

"Well, well! If there isn't a new goose!" she said, "and she is walking toward me. I must be friendly."

Snap! Her bill struck the mirror.

"Oh, you are in a glass box!" she said. "Have you come to stay?" And she stretched out her neck.

"My, but you have a long neck!" she went on, "and your feathers are nice and smooth. I suppose you cannot hear in that box."

Then she walked away, nodding good-by. The other goose, of course, nodded also, and goosey went away satisfied.

"She is not so much of a goose as the others," the cat remarked.

"The peacock is coming," said the dog. "Keep quiet."

In walked the peacock. Seeing another bird, as he supposed, he spread his beautiful tail to its full width. He walked about, but never a word did he say.

"Now, what do you make out of that?" asked the dog. "Did he know that he was looking in a looking-glass, or wouldn't he speak to another bird?"

"I do not know," said the cat, "but here comes the goat. Hide, quick!"

Billy was clattering over the boards, when suddenly he saw the other goat. He looked at him a minute. "I'll show him," he said, running at the mirror with head down.

Bang! Smash! Crash! and Billy jumped back, a very much astonished goat.

"Now you have done it," said the horse, who had been watching all the time from his stall. "All the animals will get out and run away."

"What are you talking about?" said the dog, who was laughing so hard he could scarcely talk. "There are no animals in there. That is a looking-glass; you see yourself when you are in front of it."

"Do you mean to tell me that those animals have all been looking at themselves and finding fault with their own looks?" asked the horse, with his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"Of course," said the cat. "Can't you see that Billy has smashed the looking-glass?"

"Well, that is the best I ever heard," said the horse, laughing, "but I wish I had known that was a looking-glass before Billy broke it. I should very much like to know how I look."

"You might not have recognized yourself; the others didn't," said the dog.

—F.A. WALKER.

THE BARBER OF BAGDAD

ACT I

PLACE: Ali's barber shop.

TIME: Morning.

WOODCUTTER: I have a load of wood which I have just brought in on my donkey. Would you like to buy it, good barber?

ALI: Well, let me see. Is it good wood?

WOODCUTTER: The best in the country.

ALI: I'll give you five shekels for all the wood upon the donkey.

WOODCUTTER: Agreed. I'll put the wood here by your door.

(Lays wood at door.)

Now, good sir, give me the silver.

ALI: Not so fast, my good friend. I must have your wooden pack saddle, too. That was the bargain. I said, "All the wood upon your donkey." Truly, the saddle is wood.

WOODCUTTER: Who ever heard of such a bargain? Surely you cannot mean what you say? You would not treat a poor woodcutter so. It is impossible.

ALI: Give me the saddle, or I'll have you put in prison. And take that—and that—and that!

(Ali strikes the woodcutter.)

WOODCUTTER: Ah, me, what shall I do? What shall I do? I know. I'll go to the caliph himself.

ACT II

PLACE: Caliph's Palace.

TIME: Hour later.

COURTIER: My lord, a good woodcutter is at the door and begs leave to come into your presence.

CALIPH: Bid him enter. There is none too poor to be received by me.

(Courtier goes out and returns with woodcutter, who kneels and kisses the ground. Then he stands with arms folded.)

CALIPH: Tell me, good man, what brought you here? Has any one done you a wrong?

WOODCUTTER: Great wrong, my lord. The rich barber Ali did buy a load of wood from me. He offered me five shekels for all the wood on my donkey. When I had put down the load, I asked for my money, but he refused to pay me until I had given him my pack saddle. He said the bargain was "all the wood on the donkey," and that the saddle is wood. He said he would put me in prison if I did not give up the saddle. Then he took it and drove me away with blows.

CALIPH: A strange story, truly. The barber has law on his side, and yet you have right on yours. The law must be obeyed, but—come here and let me whisper something to you.

(The woodcutter listens smilingly and bowing low, leaves the room.)

ACT III

PLACE: The barber's shop.

TIME: A few days later.

ALI: Ah! here comes my stupid friend the woodcutter. I suppose he has come to quarrel about the wood. No, he is smiling.

WOODCUTTER: Good day to you, friend Ali. I have come to ask if you will be so kind as to shave me and a companion from the country.

ALI: Oh, yes, I suppose so.

WOODCUTTER: How much will you charge?

ALI: A shekel for the two.

(To himself.)

The poor fool cannot pay that sum.

WOODCUTTER. Very good. Shave me first.

(Ali shaves him.)

ALI: Now you are shaved. Where is your companion?

WOODCUTTER: He is standing outside. He will come in at once.

(He goes out and returns leading his donkey.)

This is my companion. Shave him.

ALI (in a rage): Shave him! Shave a donkey, indeed! Is it not enough that I should lower myself by touching you? And then you insult me by asking me to shave your donkey! Away with you!

ACT IV

PLACE: Caliph's Palace.

TIME: Half-hour later.

CALIPH: Well, my friend, did you do as I told you?

WOODCUTTER: Yes, and Ali refused to shave my donkey.

CALIPH (to Courtier): Bid Ali come to me at once and bring his razors with him.

(Courtier leaves and returns with Ali.)

CALIPH: Why did you refuse to shave this man's companion? Was not that your agreement?

ALI (kissing the ground): It is true, O caliph, such was the agreement, but who ever made a companion of a donkey before?

CALIPH: True enough, but who ever thought of saying that a pack saddle is a part of a load of wood? No, no, it is the woodcutter's turn now. Shave his donkey instantly.

(Ali lathers the beast and shaves him in the presence of the whole court, and then slips away amid the laughter of the bystanders.)

CALIPH: Now, my honest woodcutter, here is a purse of gold for you. Always remember that the caliph gladly listens to the complaints of his people, poor and rich, and will right their wrongs if he can.

WOODCUTTER: Long live the Caliph!

COURTIERS: Long live the Caliph!

—EASTERN TALE.

WINTER NIGHT

—MARY F. BUTTS.

HOPE'S DOLL

It was Saturday morning. Elizabeth Brown sat by a window in the big kitchen making a pink dress for little Hope's doll.

On the chair beside her lay the doll, though you might not have thought of calling it one. It did not have curly hair—nor eyes that open and shut. In those days no child had toys like ours. Hope's doll was made of a corncob; the face was painted on a piece of linen stretched over a ball of wool on the end of the cob.

Little Hope was taking her morning nap. When Elizabeth had sewed the last neat stitches, she dressed the doll and laid it on the bed by the little girl. How happy Hope was when she awoke and saw it! She thought it the most beautiful doll in the world.

"What will you call your doll, Hope?" asked Elizabeth.

"I will name her for mother," said Hope. "I will call her Mary Ellen."