Buttercup Gold And Other Stories Part 2

The cheery canary sang his sweetest carol to them, and the whole day was bright because Mother Nature's little violet children had tried their best to be happy and so had made others happy, too.

As the great red sun went down into the west, he heard the happy bird still singing "cheer up! chirrup!"

Baby Caterpillar

Baby Caterpillar was tired. All summer long she had been travelling slowly through the green world where she lived, and feeding on the green leaves that grew near her home., Now Autumn had come and Mother Nature had given a holiday to the leaves, who put on their new dresses of red and gold and played tag with the breezes. Baby Caterpillar wanted to play, too, but could not run so fast as the happy little leaves, and she grew very tired and thought she would take a nap. So she found a cozy place among the branches of a grape vine, and made herself a soft, silky blanket.

Then she rolled herself away within it, and then, in her queer little cradle, went to sleep.

One night, late in the fall, Jack Frost came over the hill. He spied the cradle swinging to and fro, and began to play roughly with it, for he is a roguish little fellow, and touches everything that comes in his way. But the warm blanket hid the little sleeper so that Jack could not find her.

By and by King Winter came, bringing beautiful snow blankets to Mother Nature's flower babies. He gently rocked the cradle as he pa.s.sed, and whispered, "Sleep, baby, sleep! You have no need of my blankets."

At last Spring came with the sunbeams, the best and merriest of Mother Nature's helpers. They awoke the flowers from their long winter nap, and called to the birds and the brooks to begin their songs. When they came to the little brown cradle, they stopped to rest, and Baby Caterpillar began to get very warm under the thick blanket. She woke up and stretched herself, and her cradle broke, and she came out to greet the Spring. But what a change! Instead of the old dingy dress that she went to sleep in, she now had a beautiful yellow one; and, instead of crawling among the leaves, she flew up and away into the sweet spring air to play with the sunbeams and flowers; and the little children called her a b.u.t.terfly.

Five Little Indian Brothers

Once there were five little brothers living in Farmer Lane's barn. There were a great many other children there, too, but these little brothers played by themselves, and chased each other across the wide floor of the barn until they reached a corner where there was a large crack, and then they could look out into the world. The first thing they saw was Farmer Lane breaking up the rich brown earth with his plough, for Spring hadcome, and told him it was time to do his planting, while the little brothers were watching him, and wishing they could find a way to roll out into the bright sunshine and help him, something happened. What do you suppose it was?

A great brown hand came up behind them and in a moment they found themselves in a wooden measure with many more of their friends.

"What is the matter?" said one little brother. "I don't know,"

said another. "Maybe we are going to travel," said a third; while the two smallest cuddled very closely together, and whispered, "We won't be afraid; G.o.d will take care of us."

The measure was taken, out into the field, where Farmer Lane was still at work, and soon, into the furrows made by the plow, the little brothers were dropped one by one. They lay very still at first. It was so strange and dark in their new home. By and by they found a friend, an earth-worm, who told them wonderful stories, how G.o.d would take care of them, and some day would give them a new life. Then the little brothers were glad and hoped it would be soon. Thus the days went by. The warm spring showers moistened the earth, and the sun shone so brightly that the brothers danced for joy way down in their dark home. What do you suppose happened when they danced? Why, their old coats split open, and some little hands came out. They were helpful hands, too, and went to work at once. Some of them went down into the earth to find food and water for the whole plants, and the others reached upward to the air and sunshine, and spread out beautiful, long green leaves.

Each day the plants grew taller and taller, and new buds came that blossomed into flowery ta.s.sels that waved over the tops of the plants. These ta.s.sels were fall of a golden dust called pollen, and as the wind blew it to and fro, some of the tiny grains found little green cradles along the sides of the plants, and crept into them. There they stayed, growing strong and round, until one midsummer day the plants were full of ripe, sweet ears of corn.

When were the five little brothers, do you ask? Why, they were five little kernels of Indian corn that Farmer Lane planted one spring morning, and each beautiful stalk of corn was the new life the earth-worm told them about. G.o.d had taken care of them, and takes care of of His little children, too.

b.u.t.tercup Gold

Did you ever hear of the pot of gold hidden at the end of the rainbow? Some people think it is there now, but they are mistaken, for a long time ago somebody found it. How he happened to find it, n.o.body knows, for a great many people have searched in vain, and have never even been able to discover that the rainbow has any ends at all. The man who found it was very selfish and did not want anybody to know, for fear they might want some of his money. So one night he put it in a bag, which he slung over his shoulder, and walked across the fields toward a thick wood where he meant to hide it.

In the bag was something beside the gold--something so small that the greedy man in his hurry had not noticed it. It was a hole, and, as he walked on, one by one the gold coins fell out into the gra.s.s. When he reached the wood and found all of his money gone, he hurried back to search for it, but something strange had happened. It was a midsummer night, and the fairies were having a dance out in the meadows. They were good, loving little people, and despised selfishness above everything. One little fairy spied the glittering gold among the gra.s.ses. She had seen the greedy man pa.s.sing by, and knew he would soon be back to hunt for his treasure. "It will do him no good," she said, "if he hides it away, and neither will it help anybody else. I will change it into something that will give joy to rich and poor."

When the greedy man reached the meadow he could see no gold money, but in its place were bright, yellow flowers--b.u.t.tercup gold for the children.

The Raindrops

Up above us, near the Sky Country, in a place called Cloudland, live a great many little people, called raindrops. They are very helpful, and always try to do their best, because they know the great King of Cloudland has work for them all. One morning two tiny raindrops were sitting together looking down at Earthdom.

"How dusty and hot everything looks," said one drop. "Yes,"

replied the other, "let us go down and see how much good we can do in Earthdom to-day." So these two little raindrops called their brothers and sisters and told of their plan, and asked them to go, too, for they always wanted to share their good time with others. "Let's have a game of tag, and see who will reach the top of that hill first," said one little drop, and away they scampered. They ran so fast that they reached Earthdom at about the same time, and how glad Mother Nature was to see them. Some of them went at once to visit the flowers, and whispered such sweet words to the tired, dusty blossoms, that they raised their heads again, and thanked the raindrops for the comfort they had brought. Some of them slid down the slanting roofs of houses and filled the wells. Our two little raindrops with five others, went down into the brown earth and cheered up the roots. Then they travelled on, and by and by they came out again further down the hill, and made a beautiful spring, around which little children played. The spring soon helped make a brook, that flowed down over the hillsides, winding in and out among the rocks, washing them smooth and round, singing as it rippled on its way.

By and by it met some more brooks and they made a stream. The sunbeams loved the clear stream and danced to and fro over its surface, as it rushed joyously onward, turning the busy mill wheels, and keeping the gra.s.s and flowers alive and beautiful.

Sometimes weary travellers walked along its banks, and stooped and quenched their thirst with its pure, cool water. While the stream journeyed on, it met other streams and they made a rivulet, and by and by the rivulet heard a low voice calling, "Come with me and I will show you the mightiest of waters." So the rivulet joined the river, and together they travelled on till they heard the deep voice of the ocean welcoming them to its cave.

Where were the little raindrops that left Cloudland early in the morning? They were playing among the ocean waves, and helping to rock the ships that sailed over the waters. At sunset a vapor-boat carried the drops back home and in the eastern sky they stood with robes of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, and made a bright bow of promise.

As they looked down upon Earthdom once more, everything was fresh, and sweet, and glad, because the little raindrops had done so much to help others, and had left no part of their work undone. The night shadows came, and the rainbow faded slowly away, leaving a message for the children of Earthdom. "Do your best, little children, and big children, too, for G.o.d has work for all."

Glories

Laura was tired of playing with her dolls, and tired of taking care of Baby Donald, too, he was such a big baby, and she was a little girl for nine years old. So as soon as nap time came, and baby was at last quiet, Laura went out on the porch and cuddled down in the hammock, where she swung to and fro, wishing there was something nice to do, or some new kinds of dolls to play with. All at once she thought she heard a faint voice say, "What a queer child! Here she is wishing for some new plaything, and has never noticed us. She must be blind, poor child! for every morning we put on our prettiest dresses and smile at her; but she always pa.s.ses us by."

"Yes," replied another voice, "when she came out here to lie down in the hammock, I brushed her hair softly and left a kiss on her forehead; but she shook me off as if I were a bee trying to sting her."

Laura sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked around in surprise. Had some one really spoken, or had she only fallen asleep and dreamed it all?

She could see nothing except the morning glories which covered the side of the porch. There seemed to be hundreds of them, blue, white, pink, and violet; and how wide awake they looked! "It must have been the 'glories' talking," said Laura, "but I didn't know glories could talk. Can you, dear glories?"

The flowers nodded, as if they understood what she said.

"What pretty colors! I never half noticed them before," went on Laura, "and wouldn't that blue one make a lovely dress?"

Just then wee Donald, fresh from his nap, came toddling out through the open door, and stretched his little fat hands to the glories. "Baby wants a trumpet," he cried.

Laura laughed aloud as she said: "Why, they do look like trumpets, and like parasols, too;" and she gathered a handful of the blossoms and sprinkled the porch with their brightness.

"Let's play with them, baby; see if we can make some dolls; " and Laura stood a glory on the step, and into the tiny hole stuck the yellow center of a daisy, whose petals she had pulled out. On this center she marked eyes, nose, and mouth; and when a small glory was added for a bonnet, what a pretty flower doll she had, with a pink skirt, green waist, and white bonnet! Then a whole family of glories were made, and Laura gave them each a parasol to carry.

Baby used his glories for tents, and they had a good time playing, and Laura wished she had noticed the glories more before.

By and by, when the day was over, and Laura sat again in the hammock, watching the sleeping glories, she said: "I wonder if the glories could have been talking this morning; "and one little sleepy bud looked as if it could tell if it chose. But Mamma put her arm about the little girl and said, "I think it was a dream, dear. But if the flowers could speak I think they would tell my darling that by using her eyes more, she will find out how much there is that is beautiful, and G.o.d made them all for us to enjoy, because he loves us. Every flower that blooms its sweetest, and every child who tries to be good, is a precious part of our Heavenly Father's glories."

A Fall Song

Golden and red trees Nod to the soft breeze, As it whispers, "Winter is near;"

And the brown nuts fall At the wind's loud call, For this is the Fall of the year.

Good-by, sweet flowers!

Through bright Summer hours You have filled our hearts with cheer We shall miss you so, And yet you must go, For this is the Fall of the year.

Now the days grow cold, As the year grows old, And the meadows are brown and sere; Brave robin redbreast Has gone from his nest, For this is the Fall of the year.

I do softly pray At the close of day, That the little children, so dear, May as purely grow As the fleecy snow That follows the Fall of the year.

The Babies' Blankets

"Such a cold day," sighed Mother Nature, "and no blankets to keep my babies warm! Little Jack Frost came over the hill last night, and what mischief the boy is planning to do now, it is hard to tell. He is such a happy little fellow, but is always up to some prank. If Father Winter does not send me some blankets soon, I fear Jack will pinch my babies' toes, and pull their ears, and make them shiver till they am ready to freeze. I have put them to bed and told them to keep quiet, and perhaps Jack will not see them."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed a tinkling voice right at the dear old lady's elbow. "Some of your children did not mind you. Early this morning I found one of them whispering to a sunbeam, and under the hedge found a tiny blue aster. I shook her till she was so cold she was glad to go back to bed again. Ha! ha! ha!" and Jack gave Mother Nature such a hug that she shivered, and murmured: "Poor babies! I must write a letter to Father Winter."

This is what the letter said: