Our Boys Part 7

"If you show us nice clean feet, we will."

And straightway, there on the window-sill His paws were laid, with dusty meal Powdered from toe to heel.

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Yes, they were white! So they let him in, And he gobbled them all up, feathers and skin!

Gobbled the whole, as if 'twere fun, Except the littlest one.

An old clock stood there, tick, tick, tick, And into that he had hopped so quick The wolf saw nothing, and fancied even He'd eaten all the seven.

But six were enough to satisfy; So out he strolled on the gra.s.s to lie.

And when the gray goose presently Came home--what did she see?

Alas, the house door open wide, But no little yellow flock inside; The beds and pillows thrown about; The fire all gone out;

The chairs and tables overset; The wash-tub spilled, and the floor all wet; And here and there in cinders black, The great wolf's ugly track.

She called out tenderly every name, But never a voice in answer came, Till a little frightened, broad-billed face Peered out of the clock-case.

This gosling told his tale with grief, And the gray goose sobbed in her handkerchief, And sighed--"Ah, well, we will have to go And let the neighbors know."

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So down they went to the river's brim, Where their feathered friends were wont to swim, And there on the turf so green and deep The old wolf lay asleep.

He had a grizzly, savage look, And he snored till the boughs above him shook.

They tiptoed round him--drew quite near, Yet still he did not hear.

Then, as the mother gazed, to her It seemed she could see his gaunt side stir-- Stir and squirm, as if under the skin Were something alive within!

"Go back to the house, quick, dear," she said, "And fetch me scissors and needle and thread.

I'll open his ugly hairy hide, And see what is inside."

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She snipped with the scissors a criss-cross slit, And well rewarded she was for it, For there were her goslings--six together-- With scarcely a rumpled feather.

The wolf had eaten so greedily, He had swallowed them all alive you see, So, one by one, they scrambled out, And danced and skipped about.

Then the gray goose got six heavy stones, And placed them in between the bones; She sewed him deftly, with needle and thread, And then with her goslings fled.

The wolf slept long and hard and late, And woke so thirsty he scarce could wait.

So he crept along to the river's brink To get a good cool drink.

But the stones inside began to shake, And make his old ribs crack and ache; And the gladsome flock, as they sped away, Could hear him groan, and say:--

"What's this rumbling and tumbling?

What's this rattling like bones?

I thought I'd eaten six small geese, But they've turned out only stones."

He bent his neck to lap--instead, He tumbled in, heels over head; And so heavy he was, as he went down He could not help but drown!

And after that, in thankful pride, With goslings seven at her side, The gray goose came to the river's brink Each day to swim and drink.

AMANDA B. HARRIS.

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THE BISHOP'S VISIT.

Tell you about it? Of course I will!

I thought 'twould be dreadful to have him come, For mamma said I must be quiet and still, And she put away my whistle and drum.--

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And made me unharness the parlor chairs, And packed my cannon and all the rest Of my noisiest playthings off up-stairs, On account of this very distinguished guest.

Then every room was turned upside down, And all the carpets hung out to blow; For when the Bishop is coming to town The house must be in order, you know.

So out in the kitchen I made my lair, And started a game of hide-and-seek; But Bridget refused to have me there, For the Bishop was coming--to stay a week--

And she must have cookies and cakes and pies, And fill every closet and platter and pan, Till I thought this Bishop, so great and wise, Must be an awfully hungry man.

Well! at last he came; and I do declare, Dear grandpapa, he looked just like you, With his gentle voice and his silvery hair, And eyes with a smile a-shining through.

And whenever he read or talked or prayed, I understood every single word; And I wasn't the leastest bit afraid, Though I never once spoke or stirred;

Till, all of a sudden, he laughed right out To see me sit quietly listening so; And began to tell us stories about Some queer little fellows in Mexico.

And all about Egypt and Spain--and then He _wasn't_ disturbed by a little noise, And said that the greatest and best of men Once were rollicking, healthy boys.

And he thinks it is no matter at all If a little boy runs and jumps and climbs; And mamma should be willing to let me crawl Through the bannister-rails in the hall sometimes.

And Bridget, sir, made a great mistake, In stirring up such a bother, you see, For the Bishop--he didn't care for cake, And really liked to play games with me.

But though he's so honored in word and act-- (Stoop down, this is a secret now)-- _He couldn't spell Boston!_ That's a fact!

But whispered to me to tell him how.

MRS. EMMA HUNTINGTON NASON.

THE FIRST STEP.