The Jumble Book Part 22

Helena was almost as fat as the fattest goose in her flock. Over her plump, freckled face she wore a flat cap, and her flaxen hair in two long braids down her back. Her waist was black, without any sleeves and opened in the front, while the sleeves of her smock were full and long.

Her skirt was very short and full, and plaited all around the waist. In summer she went barefooted, but in winter she wore thick stockings and wooden shoes.

She carried in her hand a long stick, with which to manage her goose family, but she was kind-hearted and never struck them hard. Her little dog, Hero, helped her keep them in order. He was so well trained that when they wandered away, he would bark and snap at them until he frightened them back.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GOOSE GIRL PUB. BY NAT. ART CO., N. Y.]

Every morning at sunrise the geese waited in front of the huts for Helena. Amid a great squawking and hissing they were collected from door to door, and when the flock was all gathered, Helena drove them off to the feeding ground, a low flat marshy place, near the river, where they delighted to waddle in the greenish pools and coa.r.s.e gra.s.ses.

Helena had collected a pile of stones on a dry spot which was a little higher than the marshy ground around it, and here she would sit on her throne, like a queen looking over her goose kingdom.

When dinner time came, she would take from a basket a slice of very coa.r.s.e bread, almost black, a piece of cheese, or a slice of thick, raw sausage. When she had finished eating, she would take from the same basket her spinning, and with her distaff she twirled the thread around and drew it through her fingers. This was the old-fashioned way of spinning, and even now one often sees girls and women with their distaffs spinning in the fields while they watch their cows or sheep or geese.

There were many beautiful flowers growing in the marshy land, and when Helena grew tired of spinning, she gathered violets and forget-me-nots.

She would make a wreath of blue lilies and yellow dandelions and hang it about her neck. Sometimes she would make a collar for her dog, and once she made a wreath for a pet gander, but he twisted his long neck and ate up the flowers, at which Helena laughed, showing that she was a happy little girl, although she did have to tend the geese all day.

RISING TIME

[Ill.u.s.tration]

p.u.s.s.y's asleep, and the little gray mouse Is looking about the quiet house.

But oh, dear me! If p.u.s.s.y should wake The little mouse wouldn't get any cake.

FEBRUARY

Dear Boys and Girls--Did it ever occur to you that February is a famous month, for in it were born two of the greatest men that ever lived, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln?

Perhaps the determination of Washington never to allow himself to be discouraged in the face of tremendous difficulties and treachery stands out as one of the biggest factors in his character.

Looking back through history every boy as he gazes on the face of Washington feels a thrill of pride; the Father of His Country, the man who never told a lie, the man who never admitted there was such a word as "fail."

And when we turn to Lincoln, who in the crisis of our country's welfare stood like a rock and brought order out of chaos, preserved the Union, "now and forever," and, with "malice toward none," brought the men of the North and the men of the South under the Stars and Stripes again as brothers--we find the Savior of our Country.

For the boy of to-day two such men as Washington and Lincoln are an inspiration. Human nature was just the same in those days as now--politics were just as corrupt and morals just as bad--but each of those men shone out with the attributes of greatness--courage, honesty and truth.

And for the girl of to-day who realizes how the mothers of those two men gave to this country each a hero; how those mothers by early training and instruction brought their boys up to reverence courage and honesty and truth, there is an inspiration; for the sweetest word that is murmured in the nursery or whispered in prayer on the battlefield is Mother.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LITTLE STORIES OF FAMOUS ANIMALS

How the Geese Saved Rome

The Capitol in the city of Rome was built on a high, steep hill called the Tarpeian Rock. When in 390 B. C. the Gauls entered Rome, after having defeated the Roman Army, most of the citizens fled, except a few who had taken refuge on this steep hill. One very dark night, the Gauls attempted to climb the steepest part and capture the Capitol. The Roman sentinels were all fast asleep, and the enemy had nearly reached the top, when suddenly some geese began to cackle and raise a great hub-bub.

The noise awakened a Roman soldier named Marcus Manlius, who rushed out to the spot just in time to throw down the Gauls and save the Capitol.

After this, the Gauls agreed to leave the city for a thousand pounds of gold, but the Romans took so long to weigh it, that Camillus arrived with a big army just in time. "Rome buys her freedom with iron!" he cried, and attacking the Gauls, drove them out in great confusion. But if it hadn't been for the geese, who were wide awake and not sound asleep like the Roman sentinels, Rome would have been captured that dark night by the Gauls.

THE CARNIVAL

Let us make believe we are in Nice during Carnival time and are hastening to the Promenade du Cours, up and down which the procession is to pa.s.s.

First, however, I shall buy for you each a little blue gauze mask; for you cannot even peep at Carnival unmasked. And if any of you can wear linen dusters with hoods attached, all the better. Don't leave a square inch of skin unprotected, I warn you.

Besides the little masks, you may buy, each of you, a whole bushel of these "sugar plums," and have them sent to our balcony. Also for each a little tin scoop fastened on a flexible handle, which you are to fill with confetti but on no account to pull--at least, not yet.

The crowds are gathering. Pretty peasant girls in their holiday attire of bright petticoats, laced bodices, and white frilled caps; stray dominoes; richly dressed ladies with mask in hand; carriages so decorated with flowers as to be artistically hidden--even the wheels covered with batiste--blue, pink, purple, green or buff. Even the sidewalk, as we pa.s.s, is fringed with chairs at a franc each.

The "Cours" is gay with suspended banners, bright with festooned balconies and merry faces. Sidewalks and streets are filled with people; but the horses have the right of way, and the people are fined if they are run over.

Let us hasten to our balcony, for here pa.s.ses a band of musicians, in scarlet and gold, to open the procession.

It is "the theater"--an open car of puppets--but the puppets are men; all attached to cords held in the hand of the giant, who sits in imposing state above them on the top of the car which is on a level with the third-story balconies.

The giant lifts his hand and the puppets whirl and jump. But alas! his head is too high. His hat is swept off by the hanging festoons, and the giant must ride bare-headed, in danger of sunstroke.

Next behind the car moves in military order a regiment of mounted gra.s.shoppers. Their sleek, shining bodies of green satin, their gauzy wings and antennae, snub noses and big eyes, are all absolutely perfect to the eye; but--they are of the size of men.

You lower your mask to see more clearly, you are lost in wonder at the perfect illusion, your mouth is wide open with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" when pop! pop! slings a shower of confetti, and the little hailstones seem to cut off your ears and rush sifting down your neck.

For, while you were watching the gra.s.shoppers, a low open carriage, concealed under a pink and white cover, has stopped under our windows.

Four merry masqueraders, cloaked and hooded in hue to match, have a bushel of confetti between them, and are piled with nosegays. We slink behind our masks, we pull the handles of our confetti scoops--then the battle begins and waxes fierce.

But they are crowded on. A colossal stump follows, trailing with mosses and vines. Upon it a bird's nest filled with young, their mouths wide open for food; wonderful, because the artistic skill is so perfect that, although so immense, they seem living and not unnatural.

Up and down the procession sweeps. Up one side the wide "Cours" and down the other; the s.p.a.ce within filled with the merry surging crowd, under the feet of the horses it would seem. But no matter. Horses and men and women and children bear a charmed life to-day.

LITTLE STORIES OF FAMOUS ANIMALS

How A Spider Saved Scotland