Leaves for a Christmas Bough Part 8

Very soon he made the acquaintance of a pretty little Polish couple, who told him they were the descendants of the famous "Thaddeus of Warsaw,"

and "Sobieski;" and they told him a pathetic story of their many sufferings, and final sad death away from their country.

With the other fowls he could not make any acquaintance, they so stared him out of countenance, from envy of his beautiful plumage. In most disconsolate tones he begged to be taken out of the crowd, and satisfied with this specimen of city life, he was ever afterwards contented with _home_.

Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack!

Said the duck in sad plight!

Oh! carry me back, To my sweet country home; Where there is no lack Of fresh air and light, Where I'm not on the rack, For want of a little room.

Take me from this clack, Or, struck with a blight, I shall die, alack!

And that will seal my doom.

_A Duck's Lament._

[Ill.u.s.tration: Bird]

A STORY FOR SWEET LITTLE f.a.n.n.y.

Out in the country there lives a funny little boy, who makes a great deal of sport in his family, by saying and doing a great many droll things.

This merry little fellow owns a beautiful Maltese kitten, which he calls "Minnie," and with her he has a great many frolics. She is a very great favorite with every body, and visitors are sure to notice her bright eyes, her white breast, and her graceful motions.

Like all little boys and girls, she likes to be noticed; and when she is caressed and petted, she shows her satisfaction by purring as loud as possible. But if she is teazed, she is very unhappy, and runs off into a dark hole in the cellar, so her little master cannot find her.

One day he took it into his busy head, that, as he had a cold bath every day, p.u.s.s.y must have one too. So off he goes to the bathing-tub, and notwithstanding Minnie's pitiful cries, he plunges her into the cold water, and gives her a thorough ducking.

Being missed by his mother, search was made for the little rogue, and he was found in the act, apparently very much satisfied with his performance. He was quite surprised to find, that instead of doing a kind act, he had unintentionally been very rough with his darling Kitty.

Great was his sorrow, and after carefully drying his pet, he tried, by every effort in his power, to make her forget his strange treatment.

Minnie quickly recovered her health and spirits; and soon after she was seen chasing her tail, and jumping round among the chairs.

Her little master, in his _first_ pair of boots, clattered round the room in great glee; and when tired of racing, he sat down in the corner, to teach his Maltese playfellow how to read. But she did not get any farther than "mew," and I guess her teacher will not try that much longer, for she cannot learn as fast as little f.a.n.n.y. When _she_ can read and spell, she too shall have a pretty little kitty for her next birth-day present, or if she likes better, a beautiful great doll.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dog]

SKETCHES FROM A FIRESIDE JOURNAL.

This week I am to have a vacation, so I will see how much I can do at home, and try to spend the time properly.

Monday. I was up early and walked with the girls, though the weather was dreary. I came home and helped mother get breakfast, and then sewed all the morning. In the afternoon I took care of my little brother, and amused the other children, while mother was out. Before dark I played ball on the Court-house steps.

Tuesday. I was lazy and lost my walk, so I felt cross all the morning, and every thing seemed to go wrong. At last I determined to conquer myself and be pleasant, and then I helped mother make some cake. In the afternoon I learned how to darn stockings, and father was very much pleased with me for doing so well. In the evening mother let us have a frolic, and we dressed up in all sorts of characters. We had an old woman with a long nose, and "Mrs. Jemima Jones," who wore a most absurd looking, beaver bonnet.

Wednesday. I walked with the girls to the Monument, and we collected a quant.i.ty of moss, to make baskets and vases. I helped mother take care of the children, and stopped a quarrel between my two brothers. I made a whole sheet, so mother said I might go to the vestry, and help tie up bouquets for the Warren street Sunday School. The room was full of ladies, and we made fifty beautiful bunches of flowers, which were sent into the city on long poles. In the evening father and mother went to hear Mr. Giles lecture, and they came home perfectly delighted with him.

Thursday. The fourth of July! I did not go into Boston, as I had been the year before; but some of our Sunday-School went to see the Floral Procession, which they said was very beautiful. The girls, who staid at home, went off on a pic-nic, and we had a fine time, for we had a boat-ride and games in the woods.

Friday. I went with my Cousin and a party of girls to visit the woollen factories. We went into all the different rooms, where they were dyeing, spinning, weaving and folding cloth; but the machinery made such a noise, that we could not hear each other talk. In the night there was a terrible fire; two houses were burned and a poor little boy perished in the flames. Every body went to see the ruins, and the next day all the ladies were busy making clothes, and raising money for the sufferers.

Sat.u.r.day. I was very busy, at home, all the morning, sweeping, dusting and putting the parlor in order. A large party on horseback went to Blue Hill, so I stopped awhile to look, as they pa.s.sed through the village.

In the afternoon I mended all my clothes, learned my Sunday-School lesson, and went to walk. I then watered my garden, and gathered some flowers for a bouquet, to be put in church the next day.

Sunday. I went to church all day, and then father took a walk with us.

We went to Harrison Grove, where the Sunday-school once had a celebration, and two little children were christened under the trees. It was a beautiful sight, and I often think of the pleasant time we had, listening to our minister, and the other gentlemen who spoke to us, on that interesting occasion.

SARAH.

UNDA, OR THE FOUNTAIN FAIRY.

In the warm bright days of pleasant October, as some happy, healthful children were collected on the banks of a bubbling brook, twining gay autumn leaves into wreaths and bouquets, with one accord they asked for a story. "What shall it be about?" "Oh, about fairies," said a bright eyed girl, who had lately been revelling in the fascinating tales of the "Forty Thieves," and "Aladdin's wonderful lamp." "Well, a story you shall have, but only about good fairies; for a wicked fairy seems as inconsistent as an ungentle lamb, an ugly beauty, or a dark sunbeam."

"Oh, good, good, good!" echoed from them all; and after the lunch of wedding cake was finished, and each one had crept as near as possible to the narrator, she began.

"Once upon a time there lived a Fairy, or Fair spirit, in a crystal palace. This was built upon the polished surface of an immense mirror, and being reflected in the clear depths below, it was an object of unsurpa.s.sable magnificence.

Her name was Unda. For many, many years she had been busy doing good, refreshing the earth, the trees and the modest flowerets, and giving bountiful supplies to all the living creatures in her extensive dominions.

The fame of her beauty and goodness at last reached the ears of the excellent ruler of a certain great city, and he resolved to invite her to visit his people. Like his father before him, he had always striven to better their condition, and by her pure presence, he hoped to banish all the _evil spirits_, which frequently tormented and degraded his beloved subjects.

Accordingly an invitation was sent to Unda, and she agreed to come within a year, provided a safe and convenient road should be constructed for her especial benefit, and pleasant resting places erected, where she might stop and collect her strength. This was promised; and a hundred thousand magicians were immediately set to work to cut down hills, blow up rocks, and fill up valleys, so that her course might be un.o.bstructed, and her access to the great city might be easy and agreeable.

The news of her coming was sent to distant parts of the country by the Flying Lightnings, who were employed as the ruler's messengers. On the appointed day, thousands of people were brought safely to the place by the giant, Steam, who, by a puff of his breath, could waft a hundred chariots across the land, and great ships across the sea, in less than no time.

Great was the desire to see the beautiful stranger, and vast the preparations made in honor of her arrival. The city was ornamented with flowers and evergreen, and sounds of music and shouts of rejoicing were heard in every street. A procession was formed, three miles in length, composed of men of all ranks, ages and professions, each bearing an appropriate offering, and all vying with each other in the costliness of their gifts. Myriads of gallant hors.e.m.e.n, on gaily caparisoned steeds, bore along splendid flags and banners; children scattered flowers in endless profusion, and representatives of various nations all went forth in their pomp to greet the distinguished guest.

A pretty lake, in the centre of a s.p.a.cious park interspersed with green lawns, shady trees and pleasant walks, was especially fitted up for her residence. And there, with a prospect of the hills and dales of the neighboring country, and the companionship of her sweet sisters, Lux and Aer, the good ruler hoped she would be tempted to remain forever.

Every thing was ready, and crowds of people with happy, expectant faces, were waiting for the sign of her approach. Soon soft musical tones were heard, like the breathings of an aeolian harp. Then swelling clearer and louder, instantly up rose the lovely Water Spirit, radiant with gems, and decked with a scarf of rainbow hues. Dancing and leaping higher and higher, till she had attained her full majestic height, she bowed her glittering head as a token of homage to the Father of all, and then scattered cooling drops, like blessings, upon the gathered mult.i.tude.

Great was the enthusiasm at her arrival, and loud were the acclamations that rent the sky, as all drank in the beauties of the graceful nymph before them; and it seemed as if they could never tire of gazing at her various charms. In the evening, to conclude the festivities of the day, the Flame Fairies lit up the city with magic brilliancy, and fire pictures, of every description, were exhibited, with most gorgeous effect, to the a.s.sembled thousands.

Unda was so much pleased with her reception, that she resolved to abide in the great city; and now her little daughters sparkle in various parts of the metropolis, aiding their bright mother in her efforts to elevate humanity.

No place is too grand, and none too humble for her ministrations of mercy; and daily does she visit the sick and the wretched, the poor and the prosperous, gladdening many a hearth-stone with her smiles, and bringing peace and plenty to the squalid abodes of vice and poverty.

Blessed is her mission, and long may that city rejoice in the presence of Unda, the Fountain Fairy, and may her store-houses be inexhaustible."

NOTE.--The above story was especially written for those scholars, who, for a fortnight, strove diligently to be _good at home_; never disobeying their parents, kind and polite to each other, and with smiling faces promptly performing their various duties. To those, who have preserved the white Cameo seals given on that occasion, it may be pleasant to imagine them a likeness of Unda; and like an Amulet they may serve to encourage them in constant efforts to be "Perfect." If at any time, they should be discouraged, let them sing "Try, again;" for this song, like many others in the "School Singer," has a most invigorating influence.