Title: My Pretty Scrap-Book: Picture Pages and Pleasant Stories for Little Readers
Author: Mrs. George Cupples
Release date: April 1, 2014 [eBook #45302]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive
CONTENTS
"THE DOG RAN AWAY WITH THE SPOON."
THE BEST OF FRIENDS MUST PART.
It is Dick's birth-day, and his mamma has very wisely bought "My Pretty Scrap-Book" for him as a present. Should you like to see what is in it? Very well, then; stand by my side while I turn over the leaves carefully.
Ha! ha! ha! do wait till I hold my sides! What a funny fellow! Are they pulling out his teeth, or his tongue? It is a shame to tickle his poor nose all the time, and to play such pranks with his fine wig. But he is watching, slyly, to catch one between his finger and thumb.
Oh, how naughty of Judy, to take advantage of her mistress being asleep. She is trying on some of Miss Eva's fine clothes; and see, she has found her best fan, and as it has a neat little looking-glass in the handle, she can see her black face in it. What a start she would get if her mistress were to open her eyes suddenly! But cunning Judy knows that as long as the heat is so great, Miss Eva will sleep on; that is to say, if a mosquito do not alight on her cheek.
Here is a scene in our own country,—a little girl gleaning. It is a very warm day, too; but no doubt her parents are poor, and she is forced to work, no matter how warm it is. She must be well known to the reapers; for few people are allowed to glean till after the corn has been all housed.
No wonder they are in a hurry. The rain coming down very fast; and the clouds are so black, they are afraid there may be thunder. I rather think they must have heard one distant peal already, they look so frightened—especially the boy. Theirs is certainly a very funny umbrella; but not a bad way to do if you are caught in a shower, and wish to save your fine feathers, if you have any. Perhaps the little boy has put his cap into his pocket, because he hasn't got one on his head. But I can't help wishing he had been on the outside, so that his sister might have been more sheltered. He should have been more polite.
You will be thinking already that I have a variety of pictures in my Scrap-Book; and so I have. Here is one of a ship in the Bay of Biscay. It is a fine ship, and it is doing its best to make its way through the heavy sea. I fear there has been a wreck, for you see there is a piece of a mast standing out of the water, and a barrel and a hen-coop floating beside it. If the people see it from the ship, it must make them shudder.
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross." The idea of a king being afraid! Just look at him! Would you be afraid if you had a rocking-horse like this, with such a splendid tail, too? No, of course not. A king ought never to be frightened at anything, especially when he has his crown on, and his pig-tail tied up so nicely. The horse seems to be quite ashamed of him.
I have put this picture in that you may make a drawing of it. It would be a nice present to give to mamma, you know, especially if you coloured it. If you do, I hope you will be particular with the cow, she is such a sleek, pretty, dun-coloured one.
Out at the sea-side! Here are two young folk out on the rocks looking for shells and sea-weeds. The girl must be lame, for you can see she has a crutch with her. That must be her brother; and I feel sure she loves him very much indeed, for see how she is laying her hand on his head. I am certain he helps her very tenderly over the rough and wet places; very likely he carries her on his back. I do hope they notice that the tide is rising, because it would be a sad thing for them to be caught by the water. They do look rather sleepy about it, and are too intent upon watching a funny crab.
Up in a balloon, boys, up in a balloon!" Well, I don't think it has been the donkey's fault that he is here; and he looks very much as if he were saying, "I'm quite willing to gallop along, but I should just very much like to know where I'm to gallop to; and as for the clouds, no doubt they are very pretty in their way, but how can I eat them? I'd much rather have an old stunted thistle—I really should indeed." It would serve the rider right if the donkey were to jump out of the balloon. I don't think he'd be so merry then with his "Gee up, Teddy!"
Now, I do call this a pretty picture. Here is an honest farmer's-man. He has come home from his hard day's work in the fields; and, after his supper, he takes his seat by the door to play with his baby.
Here is a picture of a lake among the mountains, and a very pretty place it seems to be. How nice it would be to have a sail in that little boat! The wind is sending it along in fine style. I think you would rather be there than among the people who are toiling up the steep mountain-path with the baskets on their backs. Yet I must say the girls seem content and happy, even though their work is hard and humble.
Ah, here is a generous fellow. That is what you do, isn't it, when anything nice has been given to you? What large pieces he is cutting off, too! I hope he will have enough of cake left to go over them all and leave a portion for himself. No wonder his companions are waving their caps and shouting "Hurrah!"
They have got a pretty pair of pigeons in that basket, I feel certain. Mary is taking very great care of the cage, holding it as firmly as she possibly can till Henry gets down from among the rafters of the shed.
What funny animals! Yes; they are kangaroos. Do you notice that their fore feet are much shorter than their hind ones? Poor things, they cannot run like the dog. And yet they are not to be pitied exactly, because they can jump ever so far, and by this means they get along at a great speed. The mamma kangaroo has a pouch, and she puts her little young one into it, and jumps away with it hidden quite snugly.
Here is rather a sad picture. Two poor men have been wrecked on a desert island. They have managed, however, to put up a tent, and to hoist an old tattered flag for a signal to passing vessels. They have certainly been making the most of it, and trying to be as content as possible; but when they were least expecting it, a sly fox comes stealing along and runs off with the only chicken they were able to save. It is really too bad of Reynard, for he might have been content with the sea-birds. Oh, but look! one of the men is getting ready his gun, and I rather think that the sly fox will be shot.
What lovely ripe grapes! These young folk are carrying them away to make wine of them. It is rather a pity to think the great presses will squeeze them into a mash; but then we couldn't get any wine to drink if they weren't squeezed. The girls don't seem to be eating any of them; but perhaps they have been told not to do so.
Here has been a wreck in real earnest; but the crew seem to have been all saved by the gallant life-boat. One might think, to look at the heaving sea, that the poor boat would never be able to reach the ship. The man on board is doing his best to direct them, by pointing out how to steer; and he has a rope ready to fling to them.
Now, did you ever see such a sulky face? It is quite shocking! I think we ought to call him Master Crosspatch. He surely must be the very husband of Crosspatch, to whom we say, "Draw the latch, sit at your door and spin and whom we advise to "Take a cup, and drink it up, and call your neighbours in!" If poor Crosspatch's husband is like this, perhaps that is why she cannot be so kind as she would like, and why her temper has been soured; for I am sure such a face is quite enough to turn the sweetest cream into a curd.
Oh, how pretty and how cool the water is! The dog is thinking so, at any rate, and is cooling his hot tongue in the clear stream. He would like to get into it altogether, I daresay, but it is not deep enough. His mistress is pouring all the water out again; perhaps because she fancies her dog's tongue has dirtied it. Well, it certainly would have been better if he had gone to the other side; only he couldn't know, being a dog.
How do you like this picture? These girls seem to be enjoying themselves very much indeed. Not all of them, though; for poor Miss Dollie is sitting all alone, no one taking any notice of her, and so she feels very lonely indeed. Poor Dollie! what does she care for the fine new-fairy-tale book, or the story Clara is reading aloud?