Produced by Carlos Colón, the Library of Congress and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)









  Transcriber's Notes:

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by
  =equal signs=.

  Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase.

  Blank pages have been eliminated.

  Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the
  original.




[Illustration:

See p. 9

"THE GIANTS ALL WOKE UP, AND EACH ONE RUSHED TO A WINDOW"]




                            SIX GIANTS AND
                               A GRIFFIN
                               AND OTHER
                                STORIES


                                  BY


                          BIRDSALL OTIS EDEY


                            ILLUSTRATED BY
                         BEATRICE BAXTER RUYL


                            [Illustration]


                              _NEW YORK_
                             R. H. RUSSELL
                                 1903




                           _Copyright, 1903_
                      _By_ ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL

                      _Published November, 1903_




                                  TO
                            MY LITTLE GIRL




    Lay away the story,--
              Though the theme is sweet,
    There's a lack of something yet
              Leaves it incomplete;--
    There's a nameless yearning--
              Strangely undefined--
    For a story sweeter still
              Than the written kind.

    Therefore read no longer,--
              I've no heart to hear,
    But just something you make up,
              O my mother dear,--
    With your arms around me,
              Hold me, folded-eyed,--
    Only let your voice go on--
              I'll be satisfied.

                              _James Whitcomb Riley._




CONTENTS


                                  PAGE

  SIX GIANTS AND A GRIFFIN           1

  GERTRUDE'S VISIT TO THE MOON      13

  JANE AND THE BEARS                17

  SAPPHIRA AND THE FLYING PIG       22

  THE CHRISTMAS TREES               31

  MOTHER GOOSE'S PARTY              42




ILLUSTRATIONS


  "THE GIANTS ALL WOKE UP, AND EACH ONE RUSHED
   TO A WINDOW"                                           _Frontispiece_

  "AND IN THE BOX A LOVELY PEARL RING"               _Facing p._      14

  "JANE AND BABY BEAR PLAYED GAMES"                      "            20

  "SAPPHIRA SEATED ON THE BACK OF THE FLYING PIG"        "            26

  "AND IT WAS A BRIGHT LITTLE TREE, SET UP IN A
  STARCH BOX"                                            "            40

  "AND THEY HAD SUCH A GOOD TIME"                        "            46




SIX GIANTS AND A GRIFFIN




SIX GIANTS AND A GRIFFIN


Gnomes were Teddy's favorites. He had no brothers and sisters, so was
obliged to make up games for himself, and invent people to play with
him, and the people were almost always gnomes.

At the foot of the lawn which stretched before the house where he
lived, stood an oak-tree. This tree was so old that the trunk was quite
hollow, and Teddy could squeeze inside it by making himself small. It
was here that all his wonderful adventures began. He always went to
the oak every morning, vaguely hoping at sometime to catch sight of a
belated elf, who might be lurking about after the day had really begun.

It had been raining for two days, and Teddy had been kept indoors with
a cold, which he hated very much, so on the third morning, when Mamma
allowed him to run out for a little while he made all haste to the
oak-tree, because he felt that something would be changed and he was
quite disappointed to find everything looking just as usual. But when
he went inside, however, there was a difference; a small trap door,
with a brass ring in it, had appeared in the bottom of the tree.

Teddy was delighted, as he was sure the door had not been there two
days ago, and he couldn't imagine what it was for. In a minute he was
trying to get it open, tugging at the brass ring as hard as he could.
It was a tough struggle, but the door yielded at last, and so suddenly
that Teddy fell over backward out through the opening of the tree. He
didn't mind that, and was up in a jiffy, looking down the black hole
which he had uncovered.

At first he couldn't see anything, then gradually made out some steps,
at the bottom of which it seemed to be lighter. Ted hesitated, it was
dark at the top, and he didn't know how far away the light might be,
but he made up his mind to go down, and he went cautiously, backward,
as on a ladder. It was a long flight. When he reached the bottom step
at last, he saw that the light came from an opening at the end of the
passage, and was much farther off than it looked, but he kept on and
when at last he arrived where it was brighter, he found himself in a
new and strange country.

To his surprise everything was blue,--grass, leaves on the trees,
flowers, all a deep, lovely blue, like the sea. Teddy stared about in
much astonishment. There was no one in sight, but he heard a sort of
soft, humming sound, like people singing. It seemed to come from the
left, so he ran off in that direction, and on turning a corner, saw a
hill in front of him, up which he climbed, and there the funniest sight
met his eyes.

Below, in a round clearing, was an open-air workshop. Tools of all
kinds stood about, and in the center of a furnace in full blast, and
hard at work were hundreds of little, blue gnomes. They were all
hammering, sawing, and planing, making wooden tables and chairs of a
very curious kind that Teddy had never seen before. They kept up an
odd, chanting song, as they worked, and this was what Teddy had heard.
The words were something like these:

    "Let us sing as we work,
      As hard as we're able,
    Let us sing as we finish
      Each chair, and each table.

    The giants will come,
      If we cease from our song,
    And eat us all up,
      So sing, sing along."

Another curious thing Teddy noticed, was the presence of about a
hundred blue elephants. They walked in solemn procession around the
outskirts of the open space, each one holding with his trunk the tail
of the one in front of him. Occasionally, the largest would put up his
trunk and trumpet, and then they all would do the same, solemnly turn
around, and walk the other way.

While Teddy stood watching these strange sights one of the gnomes, who
seemed to be an overseer, looked up and saw him. He gave a cry, which
was echoed by the others, then with one accord they stopped working,
ran up the hill, and threw themselves on the ground before Teddy,
shouting.

"He has come, he has come, our preserver, our preserver!" Teddy was
a good deal embarrassed at this reception, and didn't know exactly
what to say, so he took off his hat, and bowed very politely, and said
nothing. The gnomes, on the contrary, talked all the time, and all
together, which made a great deal of noise, and was pretty confusing.
Teddy heard the word "giant," again and again, also the word "kill,"
and he wondered if he were to kill a giant, and if so, with what. After
a while, they seemed to realize that he didn't understand so they all
fell back a little way, and the leader, the one who had given notice of
Teddy's arrival, stepped forward and said:

"Teddy, we are glad to see you. We have watched you for a long,
long time, and always hoped to have a visit from you, but we were
obliged to wait before putting up the steps and the trap door, until
you yourself had expressed a desire to help us, which you did last
Saturday. Perhaps you remember saving one of my people from being
killed by a cat on Saturday."

Teddy looked puzzled. "It was a frog I saved," he said. "Topsy was
going to eat it, and I was afraid she would get sick."

"It was _not_ a frog," said the gnome with much displeasure, "you may
have _thought_ it was a frog, but it was not." He seemed so put out
that Teddy felt himself growing very red and embarrassed.

"I am sure I am very sorry," he said, "and I am glad I was able to help
you."

The gnome continued, but with much severity, "you then said, after you
had driven away the savage animal,----"

"Topsy is not a savage animal," interrupted Ted, "she is a very nice
cat."

"She is a savage animal to us," said the gnome, and all the other
gnomes repeated, "savage animal," in a sort of a growl.

"As I was saying," the gnome went on, "after having driven away the
savage animal, you said you wished you could be like the celebrated
"Jack the Giant-Killer," and then we decided you would help us, and we
put up the steps and door."

"What am I to do, now that I am here?" asked Teddy, much perplexed, "am
I to kill a giant?"

"You are to kill six," replied the gnome, calmly, while a joyful chorus
of "_six_" came from the hundreds of little gnomes standing by.

"Six," echoed Teddy, faintly, "I--I don't think I could kill six, I'm
not sure I could kill _one_, alone."

"_Not_ kill the six giants," said the gnome, in a voice of anger and
surprise, "then why did you come?"

"I don't know," and Teddy began to wish heartily that he had never
found the trap door, and never visited Gnome-land.

There was a long silence, in which Teddy shifted his feet, twisted his
cap into a string, and felt very unhappy and awkward. Then the silence
was broken by the biggest gnome, who came a little closer to Teddy, and
said, calmly, but firmly;

"You expressed a wish to kill a giant, here there are six, who come
every night, when we are asleep and cannot sing, and when our elephants
are obliged to leave us to attend to their other duties. When we wake
in the morning, we find our work all undone and broken, our tools made
useless, and often many of our number killed. You must rid us of these
pests, and if you cannot think of a way now, you must remain here in
captivity until you do." So speaking he led Teddy to a cave in the side
of the hill, and pushed him in.

"When you are ready," he said, "you have only to blow this whistle
loudly, twice, and you will be released," then the door closed, and
Teddy found himself alone.

For a few minutes all he heard was the pattering of hundreds of little
feet, going down the hill, then the chanting song commenced again, and
he knew that they had gone back to their work.

Teddy was thoroughly frightened; he had no idea how to kill giants,
though he had often thought about it, but now that the chance had come
he couldn't think of a single way to accomplish it, and after a while
he began to cry. While he was crying very hard, he heard a scratchy
sound, and looking up, saw a little red squirrel, coming in through a
crack in the cave. The squirrel winked very solemnly with one bright
eye, and then remarked,

"I wouldn't cry if I were you."

"What would you do?" said Ted, rather put out by the squirrel's tone.

"I'd go to work," was the answer, delivered with another wink.

"I don't know how to," said Teddy, "and I can't get out if I did know."

"You must find Mamma Know-all," said the squirrel whisking his tail,
"she will help you, she knows you well, she is in your house a lot of
the time."

"At my house?" said Teddy, much surprised, "whereabouts?"

"That would be telling," and the squirrel winked again.

Teddy rose to his feet, "Let us go and find her at once," he said, "if
I have to do this thing there is no use in waiting any longer."

"Now you are acting with some sense," said the squirrel, "blow your
whistle and tell them you must be let out any way, that you can't think
locked up, and then start to your left, thro' the woods and I will join
you," with that he scurried into the darkness, and disappeared.

Teddy then blew his whistle twice, loudly, and instantly the door
opened, and he walked out. No one was in sight, so he obeyed the
squirrel's instructions, and ran to the woods, where the squirrel
joined him. He walked quite a long way with little "Red-tail" sitting
on his shoulder, and at last arrived at a house, on the side of a steep
hill. Here "Red-tail" got down from Teddy's shoulder, and hid in a tree.

"I don't like Mamma Know-all," he said, "you can talk to her."

So Teddy knocked at the door, and a funny, little old woman came out.
Teddy told her his troubles, and she agreed to help him.

"I've known for a long time how to kill the giants," she said, "but
nobody has ever thought to ask me to help, and I can't think why they
supposed a little boy like you could do it without me. I'm going to
give you three oranges, which you must peel as you need them. The
Looking-glass Sea is at the top of this hill, and the giants live on
the other side of the Sea. Do not use the oranges unless you have to,
and above all things, do not step on the peel."

Teddy thanked her very much, took the oranges, and began promptly to
climb the hill, where the squirrel was waiting for him.

They soon reached the top, and before them, stretched the Looking-glass
Sea. Directly opposite stood the gray castle belonging to the six
giants. It had six enormous doors, six enormous windows, one over each
door, and also six chimneys. It stood so close to the edge of the sea,
that Teddy saw its reflection quite clearly, which made it seem twice
its real size. He stared at the castle in hopeless despair.

"They must be large giants," he said.

"They are," answered the squirrel, "the very largest."

"I suppose I'd better cross the sea," remarked Teddy.

"I suppose you'd better _try_ to cross the sea," said the squirrel.

So Teddy put one foot on the edge, then the other foot and then he took
one step, and then he landed flat on his back with a most awful thump.
This both surprised and hurt him, and he crawled on his hands and knees
to the bank, feeling discouraged.

"I think I had better peel an orange," he said, " I'll never be able to
walk over."

The squirrel agreed to this, and they did it together, being very
careful to throw the peel behind them, so that they should not step on
it.

Just as they finished, the orange slipped from Teddy's hand, skipped
off on the sea, and turned into a pair of beautiful big wheels, all
nicely rubber tired, like bicycle wheels, and with a little seat swung
in between them. Teddy was much delighted, and lost no time in taking
the seat. The wheels instantly began to roll over the sea, and when he
was very nearly across he saw to his horror, looming up on the opposite
bank, a very large bright green Griffin, with a long scaly tail, and
very big claws. The wheels seemed to be as frightened as Teddy, for
they stopped short, and Teddy and the Griffin looked at each other.
Finally the Griffin roared at him.

"What do you want here boy?" Teddy didn't wish to say what he really
wanted, so he gave a pleasant smile, and said:

"I came to see you." The Griffin looked as if he didn't believe that,
and invited Teddy ashore, but Teddy was not to be caught so easily, and
_he_ invited the Griffin to come out on the Looking-glass Sea. This
the Griffin refused to do, and Teddy asked the wheels to wheel him as
close to the bank as was safe, which they did, then the little seat
lowered him to the ice, and the wheels disappeared.

Teddy sat there and looked at the Griffin, and wondered what the next
move should be, when it suddenly occurred to him that it was time to
use another orange. There was no place to leave the peel except on the
sea, but the squirrel managed to carry the pieces quite off to the
right, so that they wouldn't be in the way.

When Teddy had finished peeling, the orange slipped out of his hand,
just as the other had done, shot to the bank, and promptly turned into
a dozen little cakes.

"Have some cake," said Teddy.

"You come and hand them to me," said the Griffin.

"No, you reach them for yourself," said Teddy, "they are near the edge."

Now the Griffin liked cakes, very much indeed, and these had pink
frosting on them, and looked very delicious, so he gingerly leaned over
the edge, and took one, and finding it good, ate them all.

Just as he finished the last one, he began to bellow and roar, and made
such a noise that the giants all woke up, and each one rushed to a
window, and pushed out his head.

Now these giants were very peculiar. Each had different colored hair,
and a great deal of it,--the first one black, the second brown, the
third white, the fourth yellow, the fifth red and the sixth bright
green. As they stuck out their heads, each through his own window, they
presented a very fascinating and yet, awful appearance. They seemed
much upset at hearing the griffin roar and see him stagger around, and
they shouted to him all together.

"What _is_ the matter? What _has_ happened?"

"I'm killed," said the Griffin, "and by that dreadful little boy. Come
out and put an end to him," and with that he exploded, and flew up into
the sky, like a big green cloud.

The giants screamed with rage, and calling to Teddy to wait till they
came down, each drew in his head and disappeared: But they re-appeared
in a minute, armed with enormous clubs, and were soon at the edge of
the sea.

"Come here," they called, "come here, you young rascal," and shook
their sticks at him, but Teddy sat where he was, and laughed, they
looked so funny, all standing on the bank, with their different colored
hair.

Finally the one with the red hair became so angry that he stepped on
the Looking-glass Sea, and put his foot on the orange peel that the
squirrel had laid in a nice heap. His feet flew out from under him just
as Teddy's had done, and he came down with such an awful crash that he
went right through and disappeared.

"There's one gone," said the squirrel, pleased "and easily too. Now how
about the other five?"

"I don't know," said Teddy doubtfully, "had I better peel the last
orange?"

"I suppose you had," said the squirrel, "it's your last chance, and if
it doesn't work, we're lost."

Teddy nodded as he was too busy to answer. He was throwing the pieces
of peel at the giants, and as he threw them they turned into little
sharp stones, and hit them, and hurt them and that made them still
more angry, and they called all the louder to him, but they didn't dare
step on the sea.

When Teddy finished the orange he laid it carefully down beside him,
and waited to see what would happen. For at least five minutes it
stayed where he had put it, and then it disappeared and Teddy began to
be awfully frightened, when all of a sudden he heard a very strange
sound, and turned to look in the direction from which it came. The
sound continued drawing nearer and nearer. It was a funny noise, swishy
and squashy, now faint, now loud, but surely coming closer all the
time. The giants heard it, and grew uneasy; they pressed to the shore
of the sea, and threatened Teddy more and more with their clubs.

Suddenly, just as Teddy had begun to think Mammy-Know-all had gone back
on him altogether, a cloud of great white birds appeared, thousands
of them, all flapping their wings together, till it sounded like the
roll of drums. They descended upon the giants, pecking them with
their bills, and smothering them with their wings, till the giants in
desperation, ran out on the sea, and all fell through!

The very second the green one sank out of sight, the Looking-glass
Sea turned into water, and Teddy and the Squirrel were glad enough to
scramble into a piece of orange peel which had turned into a little
yellow boat.

Just as they were wondering which way they ought to go they heard
a great hullabaloo from the opposite shore, and there were all the
gnomes, ranged along the bank, shouting and waving at Teddy, begging
him to make haste over, that they might crown him their king.

But Teddy didn't want to go over, he didn't want to be a king, he was
tired of the gnomes, and their blue elephants, and their hollow trees,
and he didn't propose to go back, and be told to kill anything more, so
he asked the squirrel if he knew how he could get home some other way,
and the squirrel said, "shut your eyes, and say:

    One, two, three,
    Oak tree, oak tree."

It was no sooner said than done, and immediately he found himself in
the hollow oak, at the foot of the steps, and lost no time in climbing
to the top. As he shut the trap door behind him, he heard the shouts
of the gnomes, calling him to come back, and be their king, but he and
the squirrel fastened the trap door in its place, _quickly_, and then a
very funny thing happened.

The squirrel who had been so friendly just the minute before, suddenly
became very wild, and ran chattering out of the oak-tree, and though
Teddy ran after him, called him, begged him to come back, reminded
him of the lovely time they had just had, he only ran further away,
and finally disappeared up a beech-tree leaving Teddy standing
disconsolately at the foot, wondering whether the thing had really
happened, or whether it was all a dream!




GERTRUDE'S VISIT TO THE MOON


Did you ever hear of a little girl so fond of looking at the moon, that
she quite forgot to obey her mother and stay in bed, if she thought
there was a chance of watching the big silver globe, as it hung in the
sky? Well, I am going to tell you about this little girl.

Her name was Gertrude; she was nine years old, and looked much the same
as other little girls of nine, and was just about as tall. Except for
her love of the moon, she was only an ordinary little girl, with hair
to be curled, lessons to learn and all such unpleasant things to attend
to.

One night Gertrude's mamma had tucked her safely in bed and left her
with a kiss, and she lay wondering whether the moon were shining, as
it seemed very dark, and whether she dared get up for one peep or not,
when bang! away went the window shade, right to the top, without any
warning, and instantly the room was filled with a silver light.

Gertrude sat up and softly put first one foot out of bed, then the
other, and running to the window, looked out. There was the moon gazing
down at her with what seemed a kindly smile on its broad face, and from
it came straight to her window, a beautiful band of white light, like a
sort of fairy bridge.

"Oh, dear," sighed Gertrude, "I feel as though I could walk up that
lovely bridge, if I had a moon boy or girl to help me."

As she spoke she noticed something sliding towards her, down the
silvery band, very fast, and while she looked, it grew bigger and
bigger, until it landed on the roof of the Piazza, when she saw that
it was a white sled, and on it there was the prettiest little girl
she had ever seen. She was of about the same size as Gertrude, and
was dressed all in shimmery white; even her long hair was such a pale
yellow as to be silver. She smiled at Gertrude and approached the
window holding out her hand.

"I am Amorita," she said, "and I have come from the Crown Prince; it is
his birthday, and he bids me invite you to his party in the moon."

Gertrude's face was alight all in a minute with joy, and she cried:

"The Crown Prince! oh, I should love to go with you, Amorita, but I am
not dressed, I have on my nightgown."

"Never mind," said the moon child, "that will be arranged later, you
will see. Climb out of the window, and come with me."

Gertrude needed no more urging; in a second she had jumped on a chair,
and then out to the piazza roof, and seated herself on the sled.

"How can we slide up hill, Amorita?" she asked. And Amorita answered,
as she clapped her hands together; "Wait, watch and see."

Gertrude watched, and in a minute two beautiful white moths appeared,
flying slowly and gracefully towards them. They stopped in front of the
sled, and Amorita seizing the white reins that hung from their harness,
they started swiftly up the shaft of light, drawn by the even motion of
the fluffy white wings.

[Illustration: "AND IN THE BOX A LOVELY PEARL RING"]

Up, up, up, until they reached a pair of beautiful white gates,
which were opened by another moth, and they found themselves in front
of the Moon Palace. They went straight into a magnificent ballroom,
full of people all in white, who were dancing to the music of a band
of white mice playing on silver instruments. At the end of the room,
on a huge throne, sat the King and Queen, and at their feet sat the
Crown Prince, who, when he saw the children coming, rose, and with an
exclamation of joy, ran to meet them.

"Oh, Gertrude," he cried, "I have watched you often from my window and
I love you very much. I have waited so long to have you come," and he
kissed her on the cheek. Gertrude thought of her nightgown and felt
herself blushing very red, but on looking down, she saw she had on a
silver dress and shoes, and she felt happy again.

The Crown Prince led her to the King and Queen, and they greeted her
with sweet smiles of welcome, bade her dance, and enjoy herself. The
Prince told how much he wanted her to stay in his world, that when he
and she both grew up they should get married, and be King and Queen of
the moon people.

While they were talking about it, a trumpet blew, and everybody stopped
dancing, and formed a procession, headed by two white rabbits, blowing
on silver horns; then came the band, then the King and Queen and behind
them the Crown Prince, with Gertrude on one side, and Amorita on the
other, and behind them all the ladies and gentlemen of the court.

The dining hall was reached at last and here stood a long table, in the
centre of which was a large birthday cake, with twelve candles, each
burning in a silver rose. The Crown Prince sat opposite the cake, with
Gertrude next to him.

In the middle of the feast, the Prince rose, and introduced her to all
his people, as his little bride, and they cheered, and drank her health
out of big round glasses with the Man in the Moon painted on them. Then
he cut the cake, and in Gertrude's piece was a little white satin box,
and in the box a lovely pearl ring. The Prince was just putting it on
her finger, when she felt herself slipping, slipping, and before she
knew what had happened,--she was in bed, and her mamma was standing,
looking at her, with a smile.

"Many happy returns of the day, little girl," said she. "Look what your
Uncle John has sent you," and she handed her a little box. In it was a
ring, just like the ring the Crown Prince was giving her when she fell
out of the moon.

"Oh, mamma, that is my engagement ring," cried Gertrude, and as mamma
looked very much puzzled, she hastened to explain.

Mamma seemed to think it was a dream, but Gertrude likes to think it
was not, and nights when the moon is full, she stands at the window,
and waves her hand,--the hand with the ring on it, and she believes the
Crown Prince sees her and waves back, even though she cannot see him.

                                                             B. O. E.




JANE AND THE BEARS


Jane loved to read, and above all, to read fairy tales. She had a great
number of books, of every kind, but the one she liked best was "The
Three Bears." Her copy of the book had very large, bright pictures of
Silverlocks, the Bears and the little house. The story was printed in
nice, big, plain letters, so that Jane had no trouble in reading it
to herself when Mamma was too busy to read it for her. Jane lived on
the outskirts of a wood, and it was her great pleasure to go into it
a little way, and sit down at the foot of an oak-tree, read about the
Bears, and fancy they were alive, and talking to her.

One day she had been dreaming thus for a long time, when suddenly she
felt that the Bears were real, and that by going into the woods a long
way, she could find them just as Silverlocks had found them. So she
shut up the book, tucked it under her arm, and ran down a little narrow
path just ahead of her. After she had been running quite a while, she
became very much out of breath, for Jane was a fat little girl, so she
stopped and looked about her. It seemed rather dark, the trees grew
so thickly and she felt a little bit frightened, but one look at the
beloved book, still tucked firmly under her arm, spurred her to venture
further before giving up hope altogether. But the further she went,
the darker it grew, and Jane suddenly realized that it must be getting
night, and then,--she tried to go home, and couldn't find the way.
Finally after trying for some time, she sat down by a big tree, and
burst into tears.

While she was crying very bitterly, she thought she heard a noise, a
sort of scrunchy sound, like a heaving body walking. She put out her
hand and felt something furry. She gave a scream and started to run
away, when a big voice, quite kind, but oh, so big and gruff, said:

"Little girl, why do you cry?"

Jane answered very timidly, "I cry because I am lost."

"Lost," echoed the big voice, "where were you going"?

"To find the Three bears," sobbed Jane, "and I can't find them."

"The Three Bears," roared the voice, "why, I am Mr. Bear, what do you
want with us?"

Jane came quite close to him, and peered at him through the darkness.
Mr. Bear, sure enough, big, hairy, and brown, just like the pictures!
Jane quite forgot her manners in the excitement of the minute, and
clasping her two little, fat hands together, cried,

"Oh, are you truly real bears?"

"_Real bears?_" roared Mr. Bear, in a voice of thunder, "of course
we're real bears. What an insulting question! I ought to punish you
well for that. _Real bears_, indeed!" and he roared louder than ever.

Poor Jane was frightened to death. She sat down on the ground, and
screamed, "Oh, Mr. Bear, I'm so sorry. I will be good, oh, I will be
good. Please don't eat me up!"

[Illustration: "JANE AND BABY BEAR PLAYED GAMES"]

Mr. Bear grew more gentle when he saw how penitent she was, and told
her if she would climb on his back, he would take her to Mrs. Bear and
the Baby Bear who were waiting for him. Jane was a little doubtful
about accepting the invitation, he was such a large bear, and she was
such a little girl, a nice, fat morsel, too,--she had been told so
before by her Papa,--still the temptation was very great, so she
climbed on his broad back, settled herself comfortably, and off they
started.

They journeyed quite a long way, and finally it became lighter, and the
trees grew further apart, until they came to a clearing, and there,
right in the very middle, stood the little house, with its three
doors, its three windows, its three chimneys, so like the pictures in
her book, that Jane almost fell off the bear's back, when she saw it.
They stopped in front of one of the doors, and out ran the Baby Bear.
When he saw Jane sitting on his father's back, he gave a funny little
squeal, and hurried into the house, calling,

"Oh, Mamma, Mamma, put away my chair, and my blue bowl, here's another
horrid little girl, come with Pa, and I'm sure she will break them
again. She's much bigger than the other one."

Mamma Bear went to the door. She looked just like the pictures too, and
had a bonnet with strings tied under her chin.

"Mercy me, Pa," she said, "who have you brought now?"

"It's a little girl," said Mr. Bear, "I found her in the woods, hunting
for our house. She's a silly child,"--this very severely--"she believed
that we were not real".

Mamma Bear gave a violent roar of rage, and said: "Of course we are
real," in her middle-sized voice, which was not so squeaky as the
Baby Bear's voice, and not so gruff as Papa Bear's. Jane hastened to
apologize again, and begged to be allowed to see the inside of the
house, and as Mamma Bear was very good-natured, she took her in.

Jane saw the big chair, that was so hard, the middle-sized chair, that
was so soft, and the little chair, that Silverlocks had broken, and it
was all mended with string. She wanted to sit in it but the Baby Bear
made such a fuss, she gave up the attempt. They showed her the great,
big bowl full of very peppery soup, the middle-sized bowl full of very
salty soup, and the Baby Bear's bowl, which was mended with glue. He
let Jane taste a little of his soup, just a _very_ little, because he
was afraid she would take it all, and he would have none.

Then they invited her upstairs, and showed her all the beds, and these
she was allowed to try. She had a great deal of trouble getting up on
Mr. Bear's bed, it was so high, and when she did succeed she was glad
to get down again, for it was just as hard now as when Silverlocks had
found it. The middle-sized bed she passed by almost without looking
at it, she was so anxious to get to Baby Bears bed, and see where
Silverlocks had gone to sleep on that eventful day.

Then they showed the window through which Silverlocks had jumped out,
and the Baby Bear hopefully suggested that Jane could do the same, if
she liked! When they went downstairs again, Mamma Bear gave Jane some
nice little cakes she had baked.

Jane thought she ought to go home, but didn't know how to go. Mr.
Bear said he couldn't possibly take her, it was much too far. Mamma
said _she_ couldn't possibly take her, because she was much too fat,
and Baby Bear said she couldn't possibly stay where she was because
he couldn't think of letting her sleep in his bed. So it seemed for a
little while as though Jane would never get home. Suddenly Mamma Bear
had an idea.

"Why don't you call in Red Riding-Hood's wolf? He goes by every day,
and perhaps he will know how she can get out of the forest."

So they all went in front of the house, and waited. Jane and the Baby
Bear played games, only the Baby Bear could climb trees, and Jane
couldn't, so in hide-and-go-seek he was able to get away quite easily.

Pretty soon they heard a galloping sound, and up came a big, gray wolf.
Papa Bear explained to him what they wanted. The wolf was delighted,
but said he had to go first to the Grandmother's cottage, because Red
Riding-hood was there, and he had a message to give from her mother,
but if Jane didn't mind going too, why, it would be all right. You can
easily imagine Jane was most willing, so they put her on the wolf's
back, after the Baby Bear had hugged her "good-bye".

The wolf went much faster than the Bear, and Jane had great difficulty
in staying on his back, but she managed not to fall off, and soon they
arrived at the Grandmother's cottage, and found the grandmother and
Red Riding-hood positively sitting down to supper. They invited Jane
to have a little of the delicious cream cheese, and fresh cake which
she was very glad to do. While she was eating she confided to the
Grandmother her troubles about getting home, and Grandmother said if
Jane would take off her clothes, and get right into bed she would be
home in a jiffy. As Jane was rather tired, she didn't mind doing this
at all. She shut her eyes, just as Grandma told her to, and while she
lay there, she could still hear them talking, and she heard them say:

"Jane, Jane, Jane," and it sounded very familiar, too, it sounded like
Nurse. Why! it couldn't be Nurse! How could she have come there? Then
Jane thought she would have to open her eyes, and so she did,--and
there she was sitting at the bottom of the tree, with her book in her
lap, and it _was_ Nurse's voice she heard, and it meant "supper."




SAPPHIRA AND THE FLYING PIG


Sapphira's mamma and papa owned a flying pig. Of course people who have
not had a flying pig in the family do not know how uninteresting they
are. Sapphira knew, and the Flying Pig was a great trial to her. In the
first place, he was locked up in a large wire cage so that he couldn't
possibly fly, then he was watched all the time by two little page boys,
so that nothing could ever disturb or annoy him, and he was never taken
out except when the family were giving a party, and he was called on to
entertain the guests. Sapphira often longed to play with him, he seemed
as if he would be quite a decent playfellow, but he was asleep most of
the time, so that she had grown accustomed to expect nothing much of
him. Of course she went every day, on her way down to the beach, and
said "Good morning, Flying Pig," respectfully, because after all you
had to be respectful to a pig that could fly if it wanted to, and he
always responded, "Good morning, Sapphira," but he never budged, and he
never said more than that, so Sapphira would leave him, and go on with
her pail and shovel to dig in the sand.

At the beach Sapphira had some real friends, and they were the
Walruses. To be sure they couldn't be frightfully intimate because they
were unable to come in shore for fear of running aground in the shallow
water, so they stayed just outside the breakers and bobbed up and down
over the waves, their great tusks gleaming in the sunlight, and as
their voices were very loud they could talk to Sapphira easily as she
sat on the beach. They were always very anxious for her to come out
and see them, and they had promised her the loveliest time if she could
only spend the day, but there was always the difficulty of her getting
out through the breakers to them, as she couldn't swim, so they had
been obliged to give it up.

One morning, just as Sapphira had finished a most beautiful fort with a
trench all around it into which the water would flow when the tide came
in, the oldest Walrus shouted to her,

"Sapphira, hasn't your father a Flying Pig?"

"Yes," said Sapphira.

"Well, why couldn't he bring you out to us?"

"He's locked up," said Sapphira, "the door of the cage has a padlock,
of which father carries the key, and he's watched all the time by two
boys. He couldn't ever get out.

"Poor thing," said the Walrus, "it must be awful to be locked up."

"He doesn't care," said Sapphira, "he's a terribly stupid thing, he
sleeps all the time."

Just then a large, brightly colored bird was seen flying towards them.
He had a beautiful topknot of green and yellow feathers that shone
in the sun, and made him look very grand. He alighted on the sand
alongside of Sapphira, and began to smooth out his feathers as if he
were very proud of them.

"The Squawking Cockatoo," said the Walrus.

Then they all shouted together, "Good morning, Cockatoo."

The Cockatoo nodded his head very gravely in return, and said,

"What are you all talking about?"

"About Sapphira's coming to pay us a visit and spend the day," said
the Walrus, "she can't get out to us, and we can't get in to her, and
we were just discussing asking the Flying Pig what he could do to help
us, but she says he is locked up."

"You can't get the key?" said the Cockatoo to Sapphira. Sapphira shook
head.

"And he can't get out unless you do?"

"No," said Sapphira.

"What are the bars of the cage made of?" asked the Cockatoo,
thoughtfully.

"Something shiny that looks like gold, but I don't think it is real
gold," answered Sapphira.

"You couldn't possibly bite them through with your beak," said the
Walrus, "of course they would be too hard for that."

The Cockatoo gave a little strut of pride. "They would have to be much
harder than anything I've seen yet," he said.

Sapphira had become very interested now, and she left the fort, and
came over to the side of the Cockatoo.

"Oh, Mr. Cockatoo," she said, "if you could only invent a way to get
the Flying Pig out of his cage so that I could go and spend the day
with the Walruses it would be so splendid. _Do_ you think you could?"

The Cockatoo gave a queer, squeaky sound,--Sapphira was not sure
whether it was meant to be a laugh or not, it certainly did not sound
much like one,--and said,

"You be at the cage at nine to-morrow morning, and we'll see," then
spreading his large parti-colored wings he flew away.

Sapphira was so excited that she entirely forgot to notice that the
water had gone into the trench around the fort, or that the sand she
was standing on was very wet, and that she herself would be very wet
the next wave that came up. The excitement of spending the day with the
Walruses was too much for her, and they were excited too, and bobbed up
and down on the waves more wildly than ever. They all shouted to her at
once of the pleasures in store for her, but a large wave that curled
lovingly around Sapphira's feet, quite wetting her shoes and stockings,
brought her to herself reminded her rather unpleasantly that she would
probably be scolded when she got home.

She started at once, however, thinking it was better to have it over,
and the joy of to-morrow could not be spoiled by a scolding about wet
feet. As she went by the Flying Pig's cage, she stopped a minute and
asked him if he would like to get out. He looked at her with one eye,
the other being closed, and said sleepily,

"I never have been out. Silly girl! you know the cage is locked."

"But would you like to?" persisted Sapphira.

The Pig moved restlessly in the straw. "Don't talk about it, please,"
he said, "it makes me feel wakeful."

Sapphira laughed and ran off to the house, thinking gleefully how
pleased he would be to-morrow.

To-morrow was a beautiful day, and Sapphira was up early, and by nine
o'clock was out by the cage, and here a new difficulty appeared for
the first time. How was she to distract the attention of the two page
boys, while the Squawking Cockatoo bit through the bars? While she was
thinking, she suddenly remembered a beautiful pale blue and pink ball
that had been given her by her Fairy Godmother on her last birthday.
She couldn't tell why she had thought of it, but it seemed almost as
though someone had said to her, "Go and get your fairy ball." She
brought it out, and invited the boys to a game. The ball, being a fairy
one, and knowing perfectly well what was expected of it, led the boys
farther and farther away from the cage until they were quite out of
sight, and Sapphira, running to the bars, called

"Flying Pig! Flying Pig! wake up. The Squawking Cockatoo is coming,
he's going to bite through the bars of your cage, and you are to take
me on your back to the Walruses, so that I may spend the day with them.
Do you hear, Flying Pig?"

Of course he heard, and he was quite as excited as Sapphira. "And after
I've taken you to the Walruses," he said, "may I fly around myself?"

"Yes indeed, you may," said Sapphira, "only you must bring me back by
five, so that I won't be missed."

"But _I_ shall be missed," said the Flying Pig, very sadly, "No use,
Sapphira. When they come out to give me my dinner, they'll find the
cage empty, and the magic weathervane would show where I was. I tell
you it's no use," and he sank down, and large tears rolled down his
cheeks.

"Why couldn't one of the common pigs come in, in your place? I'm sure
they would love to spend the day in your cage, and they would never say
a word."

The Flying Pig brightened considerably. "That would do," he said.
"Could you get one of them up here?"

"Oh, yes," said Sapphira, "I'm sure the fattest one would follow me, he
knows me quite well, and oh, _here_ is the Squawking Cockatoo."

[Illustration: "SAPPHIRA SEATED ON THE BACK OF THE FLYING PIG"]

Sure enough, the beautiful bird swooped down like a glittering rainbow
on the top of the gilded cage.

"Is everything all ready?" he asked.

Sapphira explained about her having to get the common pig, and the
Cockatoo agreed, only saying she must do it at once, as there was not a
minute to be lost.

The Fattest Pig was very glad to see Sapphira, and perfectly willing to
do as he was told, in fact spending the day in the Flying Pig's cage
was the one ambition of his lazy soul. When they got back to the cage,
they found the Cockatoo had been as good as his word, and four bars had
been bitten through. In less time than it takes to tell, the Flying
Pig was out, and the Fattest Pig was in, the bars were replaced, and
Sapphira, seated on the back of the Flying Pig, and accompanied by the
Squawking Cockatoo, was on her way to the ocean.

They found the Walruses all drawn up in line, just outside the
breakers. They had with them a dear little boat, for they pointed out
to Sapphira she couldn't sit on their backs without getting very wet,
as they swam so low in the water. It was decided that the Flying Pig
should be back in that same spot at half-past four, and having planted
Sapphira safely in the bottom of the little boat, he flew away with
squeals of joy.

The Walruses started immediately, drawing the little boat after them,
and they seemed to swim quite a long, long way, till they came to an
island that was just covered with walruses of all sizes and shapes.
They were perfectly delighted to see Sapphira, and hastened to the
water's edge, with shouts of welcome. The wife of the biggest Walrus,
who was Sapphira's greatest friend, took charge of the entertainment,
and it was she who directed the landing of the boat, and made the
little speech of welcome to Sapphira.

Then followed a day of such wild gayety that Sapphira thinks she will
never forget it, if she lives to be a hundred. The Walruses showed
her caves of the most beautiful colors where the mermaids lived.
They taught her how to dive off of the rocks, so that she could go
straight to the bottom and bring up some of the lovely flowers that
grew down there, and Sapphira wondered why she had never been able to
do it before, for she had always bathed, but somehow this seemed quite
different. Then some of the little Walruses were so funny, the way they
tumbled off the rocks, and crawled up again.

In the middle of the day they had dinner, served out on the rocks, and
everything was delicious, though Sapphira couldn't tell what one of
the dishes was. After dinner the biggest Walrus suggested that they
should go and visit the Old Man of the Sea, so Sapphira got into the
boat, and the Walruses pulling it, they went quite a long way till they
came to a funny little pointed rock that rose right out of the sea,
and had a little gold bell hanging on its top. This bell one of the
Walruses rang, and then they all waited. Pretty soon there was a sort
of a bubbling on the surface of the water near the rock, and a most
beautiful mermaid appeared.

When she saw Sapphira she seemed quite pleased, and asked if she were
coming down to see the Old Man of the Sea. Sapphira said "yes" and the
mermaid took hold of the edge of the boat and said, "shut your eyes,"
which Sapphira did. She felt the queerest rushing sensation, and the
water surged all around her ears, and for a minute she was awfully
frightened, but the next minute she heard the voice of the mermaid
saying, "open your eyes, Sapphira," and she was standing in a gorgeous
hall, all mother of pearl in the most lovely colors. They went through
this into a large room, and seated on a pink coral throne was the Old
Man of the Sea. He was very old, with long gray hair and curling beard,
but he had kind eyes, and he was very glad to see Sapphira. He gave
her a lovely string of pearls to remember him by, and just as they
had begun to be very friendly, and Sapphira was telling him about the
Flying Pig and the Squawking Cockatoo, the mermaid came hurrying in.

"The Walruses say you must go, Sapphira," she said. "It is after
half-past four, and the Flying Pig has been missed."

Sapphira said "good-bye" hurriedly, took her seat in the boat, and was
rushed up again to the surface of the ocean. There were the Walruses in
great excitement. The Squawking Cockatoo had come to tell them that the
Flying Pig had been missed, and that there was the greatest hullabaloo.

"It appears that the Fattest Pig was fool enough to grunt several times
with pleasure over his dinner," said the Cockatoo, severely. "Of course
everyone knows that the Flying Pig does not grunt and the page boys
gave the alarm at once."

Sapphira was hustled ashore on the back of the Flying Pig, accompanied
by the Cockatoo, who wanted to see the end of the fight.

When they reached the cage they found the entire family gathered
around, all talking at once, and Sapphira's mother was wringing her
hands, in despair, for the little girl had also been missed. The Flying
Pig, with Sapphira on his back, floated down quietly and remained
stationary a little above the top of the cage. One of the page boys
looked up and saw him.

"There he is! There he is!" he cried.

"Oh, Flying Pig," said Sapphira's father, "where _have_ you been? and
Sapphira, too!"

"We've been out," said the Flying Pig, quietly, "and what is more, I'm
not coming back unless you promise me that the doors of the cage shall
be left unlocked between the hours of two and five every day, so that I
may go out. I'm tired to death of being locked up, and I won't have it."

"It shall be as you wish, Flying Pig, only come back," said Sapphira's
father.

"The door of the cage shall be left open?" asked the Pig, still a
little suspicious.

"Absolutely open," was the answer.

"And Sapphira may go with me whenever I want to take her?" asked the
Pig, coming a little nearer.

"Whenever you want to take her."

"Very well," said the Pig, alighting on the ground, "then we'll come
back."

Everyone was so glad to see them that they quite forgot to scold, and
from that time the Flying Pig goes out every day, and he almost always
takes Sapphira with him, and usually the Squawking Cockatoo goes too.




THE CHRISTMAS TREES


Of course, they were bright. Otherwise they could hardly have been for
a Christmas tree. They were twelve in a box, and they ran in twos as to
color--by this I mean that there were two blues, two reds, two greens,
two silvery, two goldy, and two bright pink. The box was divided into
little compartments, one for each ball, and lined with a peculiar,
dirty cotton, common to Christmas ornament boxes, and the compartments
were meant to keep the balls from knocking against each other and
breaking. This it did, but it did not keep them from constantly
squabbling, fighting and fussing, which, I am sorry to say, they did
all the time.

They stood, or rather their box stood, on a big table with many other
ornaments in Wanamaker's big store, and the never-ceasing crowd pushed
backwards and forwards by them all the day. They were much admired by
all, but no one bought them. It seemed that being rather a high order
of ornament they were quite expensive, so they leaned against the edge
of the shelf, and shone, glistened, fought and quarreled as to which
was the prettier--until the others were tired of hearing them.

A large Santa Claus, resplendent in a red overcoat, stood on the top
shelf in the center, trying to keep order, and around him a row of
smaller and less magnificent Santa Claus' with black coats, trying to
help, but he was not so expensive as the balls, so they paid no heed to
him.

"Of course," said the goldy balls--they always spoke together,--"you
may say what you like, but none of you shine as we do."

"We think we give a purer and less lurid light," remarked the silver.

"You may do that, but you don't light up as we do," said the red balls.

"And we;" "And we," shouted the others.

"A nice, fat baby just came by on his mother's arm and tried to take me
out of the box," said the top pink ball, trembling with pleasure. "I
hoped his mother would buy me."

"We are not for sale singly," said the other pink, a little hurt that
the baby had not seen him, "besides he would have squeezed you, and
broken you, then you might have cut his fingers."

"I shouldn't like to do that," said the first pink ball again, looking
anxious. "I hope he won't come again, he might snatch me."

"Don't you worry, if he snatches at all, it will be at us," said the
gold balls again.

"Or at us," shouted all the others.

"Ding, dong, peace, peace," rang a bell, which hung on a trimmed tree
at the corner of the table, "how you quarrel! Santa Claus, can't you
stop them?"

"No," said the old man, sadly, "they don't heed me, they are so noisy."

"Is this the one you mean?" a voice broke through the babble, and
a hand took down the box. With one accord the gaily colored balls
shivered, and each one closed his or her eyes, afraid to even breathe.

"Yes, thank you. See, Estelle, what pretty ones, and quite unusual,"
said another voice.

"Yes, ma'am," said the shop-girl, "we have only one of these, they are
a little higher priced than what we usually carry."

The balls swelled with pride at this, and then being unable to restrain
their curiosity any longer, they opened their eyes, and looked right up
into the pale, pretty face of a little girl, who was gazing at them,
but with a very small show of interest. Goldy decided she was the
most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She wore a black velvet coat,
with a wide fur collar, and a big hat with plumes, her fair hair was
beautifully curled, and she looked very dainty in the rough crowd.
Pinky sighed as he looked at her.

"I would rather be with my baby," she whispered, "that little girl
looks discontented and unhappy."

They were already on the way to be wrapped up, before they quite took
in what had happened. Even then they were so excited they forgot to
quarrel.

"I expect we shall be on a very smart tree," said the green, "and they
will take such care of us that we shall last years. I had a friend once
who was on the family Christmas tree for five years, and he was not so
nice as we are."

"Oh, they'll take care of us all right," said Silver. "Didn't you hear
the lady say we were the prettiest she had seen yet, and so unusual?"
And then they all bridled in their snug little compartments.

The night was spent they knew not just where, but in the vicinity of
a Christmas tree and greens, for they could hear them whispering, and
an occasional whiff of piney smell came under the lid of the box. The
morning passed quietly too, their string was untied, and the box looked
into by the same lady who had bought them, then they were left on the
floor with a lot of other boxes and much general conversation took
place. The balls felt rather strange and kept very still.

Suddenly there was a great commotion, the room became full of people,
all talking at once, and there was hammering and rustling, as the tree
was set in place, and the greens tacked on the walls. Then the lid was
taken off the box, and the balls saw that they were in a large room,
full of people. In the center a great tree stretched its branches,
waiting to be trimmed; innumerable bundles tied with bright ribbons
were piled around, and the walls were hung with greens and wreaths.
Near the tree was "their lady," and it was the little girl who had
opened the box. She looked more happy and interested now, and was even
more gorgeous than ever, with a velvet frock and lace collar, a big bow
on her yellow curls.

"This," said the gold balls, "is richness and luxury. Thank goodness,
we were high priced, and came here to live."

The others all agreed, but the pink ball,--she had a little pang of
regret when she thought of the fat baby with the bright, earnest little
face, and the well-worn worsted hood tied under its fat, chapped chin.

Meanwhile the trimming of the tree progressed rapidly. A great many
beautiful and costly things were hung on it, among others our friends,
who were prouder than ever, and shone to the best of their ability.
Goldy made the acquaintance of a beautiful paper doll, with feather
wings and gold paper skirts, who floated on the branch next to him, by
the aid of an elastic glued to her shoulder. She was very aristocratic
and hard to know, but he glistened his best and swung to and fro with
her, and was happy. The green balls hung near the top, and were next
to a large scarlet ball that came straight from Germany, and only spoke
that language; but the greens were very good natured, and as they spoke
a little German, they got along famously.

When everything was ready, the people went to get dressed, and left the
tree alone in all its grandeur, a big Santa Claus taking charge of the
heap of toys piled at its base.

Once alone, the ornaments began to talk, amicably at first, but later,
I regret to say, the quarrelling commenced. Goldy began it. He stated
in no very agreeable tone that he was glad they were in a house
befitting their station.

"Your station, indeed," said the big spike on the top, "why, you came
from Wanamaker's!"

Absolute silence followed this remark, and the little balls turned cold
with fright and shame. Was it then a disgrace to come from Wanamaker's?
The red ball looked pale, and the green balls grew greener still.

"Wanamaker's is a large department store, is it not, where all sorts of
things are sold?" asked a silver horse, who pranced on one of the upper
branches.

"Yes," said its companion, a gold cow, who seemed out of place, hanging
as it did head down from a lower branch. "They sell everything from a
wardrobe to a rolling pin."

"They have a lovely toy department," spoke up a new voice; and looking
towards the corner from whence it came they beheld a rather the worse
for wear doll. "I have been there often with Estelle, and some of their
things are very high priced."

("That," thought the balls, "is a lovely doll, we will do something for
her if we can.")

"High priced," said the horse, "were you high priced?" turning a little
to the red ball who hung near him.

"We were," answered all the balls in chorus, "that is why we had not
been sold before."

"Toys," said a beautiful, soft voice, "toys, be quiet, do you know what
we are celebrating?"

"Christmas," answered several softly.

"Do any of you know what Christmas means?"

A long silence followed, and all eyes turned upward to where the
Christmas Angel hung from the ceiling by a broad ribbon tied around its
waist. Its arms were outspread above the tree, and its dimpled hand
seemed to be showering blessings on all. As no one answered, the Angel
went on gravely:

"We are celebrating the birth of Christ. I am the image of the Angel
who brought the news, and I come each year to each tree to remind
all people that 'Unto you a Child is born,' and you all pain me by
quarrelling over prices at such a time."

A sort of shamed silence settled on all the toys. The gold ball glanced
at his lady love, but she was looking gravely down into the green
below. Then Santa Claus gave himself a little shake.

"You have made us all feel solemn, when we want to be gay," he said.
"Can't some one start a song?"

"I will," said the Angel, and he straightway began chanting, "'Twas
the Night before Christmas," and they all joined in; and when it was
finished all solemnity had disappeared, and wild gayety and good temper
prevailed.

The evening was a great success. There were a great many people, and
much light and laughter. The tree was praised, and our friends came
in for their share of the admiration. When the guests had gone, Mrs.
Miller called the maids to her.

"Undress the tree in the morning," she said. "Save the larger balls,
the dolls, and the tinsel animals, and throw all the smaller things
away. Good-night. Come, Estelle."

Consternation fell on the ornaments. The larger ones gave sighs of
relief, and the smaller ones shudders of horror. The little balls
glanced at one another and laughed nervously.

"She cannot mean us," they said, "we are so beautiful and expensive."
And Pinky thought again of the baby.

"He would never have thrown us away," she murmured to herself.

The night passed in speculation and very little sleep; and when the
first rays of light peeped in through the shades, one of the balls--a
blue one--was discovered on the ground in pieces. He had thrown himself
down rather than be thrown away.

The maids came early, and the work of undoing the tree began. Slowly
the larger articles, including the tinsel animals, were removed and put
away, until nothing remained but a few cheaper paper ornaments and the
sad eleven balls, with their pride gone, and their souls humbled to the
dust. For they were to be thrown out,--they, the pride of the Christmas
tree table, and all their boasts were for nothing. The rich had bought
them, and now the rich were throwing them away. The thought of the ash
can made them shiver, and the gold ones hoped they would break in the
act.

       *       *       *       *       *

"I thought Christmas Day was different from other days," remarked a
small, ragged boy to a larger, but equally ragged little girl, as they
slipped and slid on the icy pavement on Christmas morning, in search
of any odd bits that might be left in the ash cans that plentifully
sprinkled the edge of the curb at this early hour.

"It is different, someway," answered the small girl, vaguely. "There's
presents for some folks and trees, I think it's trees, for others."

"Trees? What for? I don't think a tree is much of a present," sniffed
the little boy, contemptuously, "I'd rather have a drum."

"I don't mean a plain tree, Jimmy Tyler, I mean a tree all hung with
things made out of shining stuff, and candles, and gold glass balls."
Jimmy was struck dumb.

"Gold glass, O my! I ain't never seen gold glass," he gasped.

"No, neither have I," answered the sister, "but Billy's Mama says so."

That seemed to be convincing, and they both poked away at the contents
of two large ash cans, until a scream from Jimmy caused Sadie to jump
almost out of her worn little shoes.

"Look," he said, "is this one of them things?" In his hand he was
holding the one remaining blue ball. He had a hole in one side, but he
still had courage and tried bravely to shine, even though the dust had
enveloped him. Sadie stood spellbound.

"It is one of them," she said. "Oh, who could have thrown it away?"

"Sadie," screamed Jimmy, "could we take it home and put it on a tree
for Billy? We could borrow a candle."

"I'm afraid it would look bad all alone, Jimmy," she said sadly, "but,"
seeing the intense disappointment she had caused, "we can do it. First,
let's hunt through the ashes some more. If they throw one away, there
may be others."

The diligent search was rewarded beyond their wildest hope, for not
only did the entire eleven appear, all very dusty and broken in spirit
and thankful to be able to breathe once more, but also the remains of
Goldy's lady love, one wing gone, and her golden skirts in ribbons, but
still beautiful in the children's eyes.

While they were contemplating their treasures with joy beyond words,
a man came out of the area way, dragging a tremendous Christmas tree
after him, which he threw into the gutter and then proceeded to chop
up. Sadie watched him silently for a minute, and then with her face
pink with the effort, approached him timidly.

"Oh, sir, _could_ you chop it so we could have the top?"

The man looked kindly at the two earnest faces, and at the toys in the
little cold hands.

"Of course, I could," he said heartily, "how much of the top will you
be wanting?"

"Oh, just a little piece," said Sadie. "We haven't very much to put on
it."

"How will you carry it?" asked the man, when he had finished.

"On my sled," said Jimmy, exhibiting with pride a box on runners, made
by himself.

"Wait a minute," said the man, after the balls had been carefully
stowed away in the bottom on a soft bed of branches, and the tree
placed on top. "I have something inside you will like," and going into
the house, he reappeared with two bright cornucopias of candy, a nice
red apple and an orange.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," cried the children. "What a Christmas Billy
will have!"

"Who's Billy?" asked the man.

"He is the baby of our house, his mother rents the back room on the top
floor. They're poor, too, and we love Billy."

"Sadie takes care of him in the daytime when his mother gets work, and
she's a splendid nurse," said Jimmy with pride. Then with nods and
smiles they started. The man watched them until they disappeared, and
then with a half sigh returned to his chopping.

"I wish I had asked where they lived, I would like to have seen the
tree and Billy," he thought, but it was too late, the ragged pair and
the old sled with its cheery burden had gone around the corner.

And what of our friends, the balls, down in their nest of pine boughs?
They were too happy to speak. The events of the night passed among
ashes and bits of coal had told much on their delicate nerves, and the
sudden change to the fragrant bed, with a prospect of another tree
ahead of them was as cheering to them as it was to the children. All
pride had gone, and there was left only a strong desire to make such a
brave appearance that Billy's tree would be the best and brightest in
the land, notwithstanding the fact that the ornaments were few.

[Illustration: "AND IT WAS A BRIGHT LITTLE TREE SET UP IN A STARCH BOX"]

And it was a bright little tree, set up in a starch box, with the
balls hung where they showed to the best advantage, and the paper
dolly tied fast to the top bough, where her tattered skirts were less
noticeable, and no one minded or even thought that she had only one
wing. The gold balls glistened as good as new when the dust was rubbed
off, and when later the candle had burned out, the apple and the orange
had been divided and eaten, and the festivities were over, the little
pink ball rejoiced to find herself going to bed with the fat baby; then
clasped tight in the hot little hand and nestling close to the pink
cheek, she sent up a little prayer of thanks to the Christmas Angel,
which was as near saying real prayers as a Christmas tree ornament ever
comes.




MOTHER GOOSE'S PARTY


Mother Goose had decided to give a party. Not an ordinary affair, by
any means, but a _very_ extraordinary party. She had been looking down
into New York a great deal lately, as she went her rounds on her big
white goose, and had seen more than one little boy and girl reading her
"Rhymes and Jingles," and heard them exclaim;

"Oh, how I wish I could go to see Mother Goose, and all the
story-people!"

So Mother Goose had decided to invite the children, that is, the best
and nicest only, those who didn't cry when they were being dressed, or
when there was no jam for supper. They were to come in the evening, for
that is the time when they can reach Fairyland by the shortest way, and
she was going to ask all the most interesting people of the "Rhymes and
Jingles" to help entertain them.

So pleased was Mother Goose with her plan, that she had to call out to
the old woman with the pig who lived next door, and who was cleaning
house very hard, always in hopes of finding another silver sixpence, to
ask her if she would come and bring her pig.

The old woman thought it would be lovely, and offered to help prepare
for the party. She suggested that the Queen of Hearts might give the
celebrated tarts by way of refreshments. Mother Goose liked the idea,
and decided to send a message to the queen by the very first person who
came in. This person happened to be the Maiden All Forlorn, who had
just milked her cow, and brought in a nice saucer of milk for Mother
Goose's cat, and she offered to go at once and fetch the tarts.

The next people to come were Jack and Jill, with a bucket half full
of water. They were now so used to falling down the hill, that they
managed to keep a little water in the pail, and they always brought it
to Mother Goose, who used it to wash her nice tiled floor. They were
crazy about the plan, and promised to do what they could to make it a
success.

"We will be here just as early as we can," said Jill, "you know we have
to help Bo-peep find her blessed sheep, and, fit on all their tails the
first thing in the morning, and it takes a long time."

"Then let them come without their tails, let Bo-peep bring the tails
with her," said Mother Goose. "I dare say the children would like that
quite as well."

"What are you going to have to eat?" asked Jack, who took a great deal
of interest in food.

Mother Goose told them about the tarts, and Jill suggested some of
Curlylocks' strawberries and cream, also Tommy Tucker's white and brown
bread. Tommy came along just then on his way to the village to buy a
knife, and promised to bring plenty of both kinds of bread with him.

"I know something," said Jill, "why don't you get some one to go to the
King of the Blackbird Pie, and ask him to give it to us. Even if we
didn't eat it, the children would be amused to see it."

"There are two objections to that plan," said Mother Goose,
thoughtfully, "one, that it is a very long way to go, and the second,
that the top crust of the pie is broken, and the King won't have it
mended because now the four-and-twenty black birds can sing all day
long. It would spoil the looks to have no top on the pie."

"Oh, I should think that could be managed," said Jack, "the maid's
good-natured, that is, if she has the tip of her nose. Perhaps she
would make a new top."

"Well, that doesn't solve the question of getting the pie," said Jill,
settling herself on the kitchen table, and swinging her feet. "I tell
you who runs fast, Tom, Tom, the Piper's son."

"But he'd never be able to bring the pie back," said Mother Goose, "he
always has the pig to carry. Since they killed the first pig he doesn't
dare put this one down. But never mind, Jill, I'll find some way of
getting it. I'm going out now, and I will look."

"We must go, too," said Jack and Jill, "or Bo-peep will be screaming.
There she is now," and sure enough along the road, preceded by a sound
of loud weeping, came Bo-peep, wringing her hands.

"Oh, Bo-peep, do stop crying a minute, and listen, and I'll tell you
what a beautiful plan Mother Goose has. She is to give a party to all
the children in New York, and you're to come." Bo-peep looked pleased
for a minute, then began to cry again.

"What good am I," she sobbed, "at any party, without my sheep?"

"But we'll find your sheep," said Jack, "don't we find them for you
every day? To-day won't be any different. Come on, Jill," and each
taking one of Bo-peep's hands, and waving gaily to Mother Goose, they
dragged her off down the hill.

Mother Goose started across the fields on her goose, turning over in
her mind the different people who might go for the blackbird pie.
Suddenly she came upon a haycock and under it, sound asleep, with his
head resting on his arm, was Little Boy Blue. Mother Goose dismounted,
and picking up the horn that lay alongside of him, gave him a good rap
over the head with it. Boy Blue woke up with a lazy yawn, and said:

"You let me alone." When he saw who it was, he jumped to his feet, and
bowed very politely, for most of the Fairyland children were afraid of
Mother Goose when she was cross.

"Boy Blue, will you do something for me?" asked Mother Goose, and she
told him about the pie. "How can you get it? The palace is such a long
way off."

"I can do it," said Boy Blue, cheerfully and pleasantly, "I can take
Baa, Baa, Black Sheep out of the lane. He goes, by the King's palace
every day, with wool for My Lady."

Mother Goose was pleased at Boy Blue's willingness to do the errand,
and left him with a warning to "be quick." Boy Blue started at once for
the lane, and sure enough, there was Baa, Baa, Black Sheep trotting
along. He consented to take Boy Blue on his back to the King's palace.
So they started, and were there within an hour, as Black Sheep could
travel very quickly when he wanted to. When they arrived, Boy Blue ran
in, and found the King in his counting-house, just as he expected.
Boy Blue explained to him about the party, and the King said he would
gladly give the pie, but spoke of its not having a top. Then he said
he thought the maid would make a new one, and Boy Blue ran to ask her
if she would. She was very good-natured that morning, the dicky-bird
having let her nose alone, and she consented to make one right away.

Then came the difficulty of carrying the pie, which was very large and
heavy, to Mother Goose's house, but here the Queen came to the rescue.
She had offered some of her bread and honey to the party, and she
suggested that Cinderella would probably let Boy Blue have her pumpkin
coach to drive back in.

"You know," said the Queen, "she sends her coach into the village every
day, to drive past the house where the proud sisters live so as to make
them envious, and as it is empty, Boy Blue might just as well ride in
it."

While the maid baked the top of the pie Boy Blue went at once to
ask Cinderella about it. She lived quite close to the palace, so he
wasn't long finding her. On the way he met Simple Simon, who was going
fishing, and told him about the party, and Simon was so simple that he
promised a great many fish, out of his mother's pail, for the feast.

Cinderella was very glad to see Boy Blue. She said she would be at
the party, and bring her glass slippers, and as the coach was just
starting, she was delighted to have Boy Blue use it. By the time
he had returned to the palace the maid had put a lovely fancy top
on the pie,--with "Mother Goose" written in large letters upon the
crust,--and Boy Blue put it very carefully on the seat opposite to him
in Cinderella's pumpkin coach. The drive back was pretty tiresome, for
the pie seemed excited at the prospect of the party, and kept sliding
backwards and forwards on the seat, in a most annoying way, and once
it nearly bounced out the window, and Boy Blue had to push it back so
hard that all the four and twenty blackbirds began to twitter very
angrily,--they did not like being bounced,--but they got home at last
without accident.

[Illustration: "AND THEY HAD SUCH A GOOD TIME"]

The children arrived at half past eight, and were much interested
to see Mother Goose's kitchen, her cat, the celebrated goose, and
Bo-peep's sheep, which were all there, just as Jack said they would
be. Of course their tails weren't fitted on, but this made it all the
more interesting. For the children could put the tails on themselves.
Bo-peep was so tired doing it, she was glad enough to let them. They
visited Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary's garden, and she gave them each a
silver bell, with their names written on, to take home.

When supper time came, there was a great deal of excitement as to what
there would be to eat, and perhaps you can imagine how the children all
felt, when the four-and-twenty blackbirds popped up their heads and
sang a cheery welcome to the fairy world. They had all the things to
eat that they had read about for years, and they had such a good time
that they were ready to cry when the bull tolled the big bell to tell
them it was time to go home.

Mother Goose promised them to have another party sometime, but she
seems to have forgotten,--at least we have never been asked!


                           THE END