Transcriber's Note: The last story "Winter Pleasures" seems to end abruptly. But this is so in the book. There is no missing text. The Rose-Bud Stories, FOR YOUNG CHILDREN. Illustrated. THE GOAT AND HER KID. BY MRS. HARRIET MYRTLE. New York: SHELDON AND COMPANY. 1870. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by SHELDONAND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of theSouthern District of New York. * * * * * The Goat and her Kid. The grass plot at the back of the cottage was a very bright green, andsparkled with the morning dews. It was kept smooth, and level, andshort, by the garden-roller going over it once a week, and still moreby the constant nibbling of the goat, who was allowed to be there allday, because she had a pretty little young kid that ran by her side. But it is not to be supposed that this kid was contented with alwaysrunning close to its mother's side. Kids are very fond of dancing andfrisking about, and this one was more fond of it than any other in thewhole village. One day a poor Italian boy came down the lane playing upon a pipe, andbeating a little tabor. He used to play these for two dolls thatdanced upon a board by means of a string which went through theirbodies, and was fastened to his knee, so that when he moved his kneequickly the dolls seemed to dance about upon the board. The boy stopped at the gate, put down his board, placed his dolls uponit, with the string at his knee, began to play his pipe, and beat uponhis tabor, and, as he played, the dolls danced up and down, and roundand round, first on one side, then on the other, now bobbing downtheir heads, now frisking about their feet. But while this was going on at the gate, the kid heard the pipe andtabor, and after listening to it a minute, with its head on one side, suddenly jumped up in the air, gave a great many little kicks, veryquick and funny, then ran frisking round its mother, and at last stoodupon its hind legs, and danced all across the grass plot. Little Mary, who had been looking at the dolls, happened to turn roundat the moment when the kid was dancing. "O, you little dear, dearkid!" cried Mary, first running towards the kid, then back to look atthe dolls, then again at the kid, then at the dolls, and the Italianboy played away with his pipe and tabor, and made his dolls jump up inthe air, and reel, and set, and hop; but it was all nothing to thejumps in the air of the kid, and its frisking kicks and flings, andits fun and its fancies. At last the Italian boy went away, with a large piece of bread andcheese in his hand, and his dolls and dancing-board at his back; butplaying his pipe and tabor all down the lane. The goat stood lookingafter him, with her head raised tall in the air, and a serious face;but the kid continued to dance as long as the pipe and tabor could beheard. The Little Foundling. In the beginning of June, when the young birds have got nearly alltheir principal feathers, but have not yet learned to fly, it is a sadthing if by any accident one of them tumbles out of the nest. Thismisfortune sometimes happens when a nest is too full. Five or sixlittle birds are a good many for a nest no bigger than a teacup; andthere are often as many as five. We have also to recollect that theseyoung things are always very wild, and impatient, and unreasonable, and make a great fluttering together, and scramble and climb over eachother, especially when their mother brings them food in her bill. There is, of course, not enough food for all of them at once, but theyall try to get it at once, and some of them are naughty and greedy, and try to get a second morsel before their brothers and sisters havehad any at all. Now, the careful mother-bird knows this very well, andshe, therefore, divides everything among them, so that each has a bitin turn, and while she feeds them she begs the rest to be as patientas they can, and not flutter, and chirrup, and gape so widely, andabove all things, to mind they do not tumble, or push each other, overthe edge of the nest. It happened one day that this very accident occurred in ahedge-sparrow's nest which had been built in the largest branch of ahawthorn-tree. This tree grew in the middle of a hedge that went rounda large field, where there were at this time a number of haymakers, all very busy with the hay. While some were tossing the hay about inorder to spread it out in the sun and dry it, others were raking upthe hay that was already dry enough, and piling it up into haycocks. Men and women, and boys and girls too, were all at work in this way, and singing in the sun as they tossed the hay with forks, or raked itup with large wooden rakes. When the hay was thus moved about on thefield, a frog sometimes jumped up, and went silently leaping awaytowards the hedge; and sometimes a field-mouse sprang out from theshort grass, with a loud squeak, and ran off to hide himself in thehedge, squeaking all the way, not because he was in the least hurt, but because he had waked in a great fright. At the same time that all this was going on, the sparrow, whose nestwas in the hawthorn-tree, had brought a few seeds and a morsel ofcrust to her young ones. The seed she distributed with ease, but themorsel of crust was rather hard, and required her to pinch and peck ita good deal with her bill before it could be soft enough for the youngbirds. The young ones, however, were all so anxious to be first toreceive the crust the moment it was ready, that they all began tomake a loud chirruping, and scrambling, and pushing, and fluttering, and trampling, and climbing over each other, till at last two of themwere on the very edge of the nest, and had each got hold of the crust. But the mother-bird did not approve of such rudeness, so she took itaway from them in her own bill just as the two were beginning to pullwith all their might, standing on opposite sides of the nest. Theycould not recover themselves, but over they went, fluttering down intothe tree. One fell into the next bough below, but the other wentfluttering into the hedge under the tree. The mother helped thenearest one up again into the nest, by showing it how to hop and flyfrom branch to branch; the other, however, was too low down, so theresat the unfortunate little fellow all alone upon a twig, chirrupingand looking up in vain at his lost nest. [Illustration] This unlucky nestling had not long sat in this way before some boys, who had brought the haymakers their dinners, and were returning home, saw him in the hedge, and immediately began to try to catch him. Butthough he could not fly, he could flutter, and if he was not able torun, at least he could hop; so every time one of the boys got near tohim, the nestling scrambled on to the next bough, and thus from boughto bough all along the hedge. If the boys had only known howdreadfully frightened the poor little bird was, they never could havebeen so cruel as to hunt him in this way. They did not know this, however, and only thought of catching him. At last he had got to theend of the hedge, and then went fluttering down upon the field withthe boys after him. They soon were so close to him, as he hopped andfluttered along the short grass, that the poor little fellow felttheir hands would presently be upon him, and as a last chance ofescape, he crept and hid himself under a wisp of hay. Just at that moment there came into the field Charles Turner, with hissister Fanny, and their maid, each having a little wooden rake to makehay with. They saw the boys all running very eagerly after somethingin the grass, and they ran directly towards them to see what it was. "O, " cried Charles, "it is a poor little bird that cannot fly!" "Do not hurt it, " cried Fanny. "Pray, Charley, ask them not to hurtit!" The nestling had been obliged to hop from beneath his little morsel ofhay, and had now crept underneath a haycock. "We did not mean to hurt it, Miss, " said one of the boys; "we onlywanted to catch it, and we could not. But I am afraid one of us trodupon it somehow by accident, when it was under the bit of hay there;and, perhaps, it has been hurt somewhere. I'm very sorry if it ishurt. " As he said this, the boys all went away; and the one who hadspoken really _did_ look sorry. "I wonder where the little fellow is hiding, " said Charles. "If he hasbeen hurt, we had better look for him, to see if we can help him tofind his nest. " "Yes, let us look for him, " said Fanny; and they both went to workdirectly to remove the hay and search underneath the haycock, --Sarah, their maid, helping them. They were not long in finding the nestling. He was crouching close tothe ground, with one bright little round black eye looking up atthem, and was panting as if his little heart would break. "We will not hurt you, poor little thing!" cried Fanny, as her brotherstooped down and took him up softly in both hands. The nestling'sbreast panted quicker than ever, and every now and then he gave aflutter, when Charles tried to look at him to see where he was hurt. At last, when he found how gently he was held, and that all they didto him was to smooth down the feathers of his back and wings, he beganto be quiet, and to pant less, and gradually to cease making anyfluttering. "Now then, " said Charles, "he is quiet, and we may examine him. " So heslowly began to open his hands, and Fanny began to blow the littlebird's feathers with her mouth close down to him, to blow them on oneside that they might see where he was hurt. But no bruise or scratchcould be found. Presently, however, Charles said, "O, I see what hashappened. The boys in running after him have trod upon his feet, andbruised them dreadfully. They are all red, and swelled, and crooked, and I do not believe they can ever get properly well again. Hislittle claws have been twisted and broken. He will never be able tohop about any more; and I am sure he can never perch upon a twig. Hewill have nothing to hold fast with. What _is_ to become of him?" Fanny began to cry as she heard all this, and looked at the nestling'sbruised feet, and saw how badly they were injured. "He will die, " saidshe, "if we let him go: he will never be able to get up to his nest, nor hop about to find his food; and he will be starved. Do, Charley, let us take him home with us. If he gets well enough to hop and fly, we will give him his liberty; and if not, let us take care of him. " Accordingly, home they all went, carrying the bird, gently wrapped upin a white handkerchief, and held loosely in Fanny's double hands, soas not to press him. When they arrived they suddenly recollected thatthey had no cage for him, and did not know where to put him. Notknowing what to do, as their papa and mamma happened both to be out, Charles went into the yard to ask advice. To his great joy, Timothy, the coachman, told him there was an old wire lantern hanging up inthe stable, which he might have. The old lantern was brought, and somehay and grass were laid at the bottom, and then Timothy said he knewof a chaffinch's nest which had been built last year in a pear-treethat grew up one side of the stable wall, and they might get it down, and put this little lame fellow into it. "But then, " said Fanny, "what will the chaffinches do without a nest!" "O, you don't understand, " said Charles. "It is an empty nest, madelast year. It has no owners now. " [Illustration] "Do get it, then, Timothy, please, " cried Fanny. Away went Timothy for the old chaffinch's nest, and Charles with him, while Fanny remained with the nestling, standing beside the wirelantern. They soon came back with the nest, which Fanny placed at thebottom of the lantern. By this time Mrs. Dowse, the cook, came into the yard smiling, andbringing with her a saucer containing bread and milk and a quill, inorder that the nestling should have some supper. "O, thank you, Mrs. Dowse, " cried Fanny. "I had quite forgotten that he would wantsomething to eat. Will you teach us how to feed him?" Mrs. Dowse took the nestling in her left hand, and a quill full ofbread and milk in the other, the nestling all the while making a greatkicking and struggling and resistance, not knowing what in the worldwas going to be done to him. The first time, however, he opened hisbill to give a loud chirrup, as much as to say, "What are you aboutwith me, Mrs. Dowse?" the quick fingers of the smiling cook popped aquill full of bread and milk down his throat. In a moment he openedit wide for another! and wider still for another! and yet wider stillfor one more! There was an end of all his resistance. He had found outwhat Mrs. Dowse wanted to do to him, and was very much pleased at it. In this way he was fed every day by Fanny, who soon learned to manageit very neatly. The papa of Charles and Fanny used to call the nestling "The LittleFoundling, " and so did their mamma, but Fanny and Charles also gavehim the name of "Chirp. " Poor little Chirp's feet did not get well. Hestill continued quite lame, as the bones of his claws had all beeninjured severely. In other respects he was very well; ate his foodwith a great appetite, and seemed contented and happy. His lantern wasalways hung in the pear-tree by the stable wall every fine day. This little Foundling, however, was not the only bird in the house. Fanny's uncle had brought her a beautiful canary on her last birthday, and he was of the most graceful shape, the most delicate yellow color, and the most clear and joyful voice that ever were seen or heard. Helived in a large cage of bright brass wire, which had a circular topand three perches. One perch was just level with his long seed-box, and, in fact, led up to it; the second perch was in the middle of thecage, and the third was in the circular top, which arched over him inthe shape of a bell. He often had groundsel and chickweed hung in thewires over head, to look like a bower; and opposite this top perch wasa small looking-glass, in which he could see himself. He had adrinking-glass hung outside his cage at the bottom, and up in onecorner a round bath-glass to wash in. Every morning he had his bath;then he took his breakfast; then he hopped up to the top perch underhis bell-shaped bower, and set his feathers all to rights at hislooking-glass; then he bowed to himself once or twice (fancying allthe while he saw another canary in the glass); then he polished hisbill upon the perch to complete his toilet; and then he sang himself adelightful song. His name was Dicky. He was quite a gentleman. [Illustration] When the weather was fine, this very gentleman-like canary bird wasalways hung in a mulberry-tree. Whenever he found himself among allthese beautiful green leaves he sang louder and more joyfully thanever. Fanny and Charles, therefore, thought it was a pity to leave thepoor little Foundling so lonely in his pear-tree by the stable, andaccordingly they brought his funny old lantern and hung it upon thenext bough to the one that held the cage of the canary. And there allday the poor little ragged lame sparrow sat looking with earnest eyesof admiration at the beautiful canary, and listening with the greatestwonder and pleasure to his singing. He only now and then ventured, when the canary stopped to utter his "_chirp! chirp!_" as much as tosay, "more! more!" They were hung up close together in this manneralmost every day for a week or two. They looked at one another verymuch; the nestling sparrow evidently regarding the canary with greatadmiration, and the canary seeming to pity and be sorry for the poorlittle lame Foundling. One day Fanny said to her brother, "Do you see, Charley, how thesebirds look at each other? I should so much like to put Chirp intoDicky's cage. " "I have been thinking of the very same thing, " said Charles. "Let usrun and ask mamma if we may do it. " Away they ran and asked. "Why, " said their mamma, "it certainly will have rather a strangeappearance. The two birds do not seem suitable companions. It is anodd fancy, children; but you may do it if you like. " No sooner said than done. Off ran Fanny and Charles--took the littleFoundling out of his old lantern--opened the door of Dicky's cage--andat once put him in, and fastened the door. In a moment, Dicky flew upto his top perch, and stood looking down very earnestly; and thelittle Foundling, though he could stump about on his lame toes, nevermoved, but sat looking up at Sir Dicky. The nestling looked like apoor little ragged lame beggar-boy whom a sprightly gentleman in abright yellow coat had been so compassionate as to take into hishouse. [Illustration] Presently the Foundling went to the seed-box, and looked in. Down cameDicky in a moment, and drove him away from his box, and then ascendedagain to the top perch. This happened every time poor Chirp went nearthe seed. However, he took a good drink out of the bath-glass, atwhich both Fanny and Charles laughed very much. They then gave theFoundling some food through the wires of the cage. This they had to dofor several days, till Dicky at last became more good-natured, and nolonger prevented the poor lame Foundling from eating out of hisseed-box. They gradually became very good friends in the cage, though Dicky, except for his bath and his seed, was almost always upon the perch inthe middle or the top of the cage, while Chirp, who never recoveredfrom his lameness, went stumping about at the bottom. In otherrespects, however, the Foundling grew to be a good, strong sparrowwith all his proper feathers, and made a clean and respectableappearance. He now looked like a stout faithful servant in a browncoat who inhabited the lower story, while the gay and sprightly ownerof the house sat in the upper rooms to sing, or dance upon twoperches. They lived very happily, and Fanny and Charles rejoiced thatthey had brought home the little lame Foundling. Winter Pleasures. "Do jump up and look out at the trees, " said Susan, one morning inDecember, to little Mary, "they are so beautiful; all sparkling likesilver!" "It seems very cold, " said Mary, rather sleepily. "Will you draw upthe blind, Susan, that I may see out?" Susan drew up the blind. "O, " cried Mary, "how lovely the window looks! I see fairy palaces, and wreaths of flowers, and numbers of birds, and bright butterflies!O, and look at those angels, flying with white wings spread, and belowthem there is a lovely lake! Look, Susan, do you see what I mean?" "I don't see that so plain, " replied Susan; "but I see a prettycottage just there, in the corner of this pane. " "O, yes!" said Mary; "and look, there is a high mountain behind it, and a forest of tall fir-trees growing all up the sides, and there isa river running along before it, with pretty flowers like stars onits banks. O, and little fairies dancing among them! Now it allsparkles like diamonds and rubies! Beautiful, beautiful!" cried Mary, jumping out of bed. The sun had just risen, and his beams, tinged withred, shone on little Mary's frosted window, and gave it this beautifulappearance. "But it is much too cold to stand looking at it, dear, " said Susan;"make haste, and let us get you down to the warm parlor fire. " Splash went Mary into her bath, and made all the haste possible; andwhile she was dressing, the window was a continual pleasure; for asthe sun shone on the glass, small portions of the frost-work meltedaway, and let the bright rays shine through; and first these clearspots looked like little shining stars on the fairies' foreheads; thenlike stars in the sky; then they changed into pretty ponds in a wood;then into lakes with rocky banks; the angels seemed to fly fartheraway; the wreath of flowers took different forms; the fairies dancedoff with the birds and butterflies; and at last, just as the largestlake had become so large that Mary thought it must be the sea, it wastime to go down stairs. The parlor looked so very comfortable and felt so warm. There was abright fire; Bouncer was stretched on the rug; the kettle boiled onthe hob; breakfast was laid; the sun shone in at the lattice window. And now Mary, looking out into the garden, remembered what Susan hadsaid about the trees, for they did indeed look beautiful. Every branchand every twig was incrusted over with crystals of white frost; theyno longer appeared like common trees; no wood was to be seen; theyseemed to have been changed by some fairy in the night into silver, and sprinkled with diamonds. The laurels and other evergreens had alltheir leaves covered and fringed round the edges with the samesilvery, sparkling frost-work. The ivy-leaves near the window lookedthe best of all; their dark green color seemed to make the jewelsshine more brightly, and then their pretty forms were shown off by allthis ornament. As Mary was fancying herself in some fairy palace, orin Aladdin's garden, and wondering whether there was any fruit madeof precious stones hanging on the trees, her papa and mamma came downto breakfast, and they all enjoyed the sight together. Mary's prettycousin, Chrissy, who had been May-Queen on the first of May, was on avisit at the cottage, and when she came down, she was delighted toowith the beautiful sight, and thought the branches like white coraltipped with diamonds. While they were at breakfast, Mary asked the question which she hadasked for several mornings past. It was, "Do you think Aunt Mary, andThomas, and Willie will come to-day?" "I think it quite possible that they may, " said her mamma; "butto-morrow is more likely. " "You had better try not to expect them till to-morrow, Mary, " saidChrissy. "I will _try_, " said Mary, "but I think I do expect them to-day. Andnow let me think how many days it is before Christmas Eve will come. Yesterday we counted it was eleven days, so to-day it is ten. _Still_ten days. " "But you know, Mary, we have plenty to do first, " said her mamma. Marynodded and smiled. Christmas Eve was the day they kept at the cottage; because Mary'spapa and mamma always spent Christmas Day with grandmamma. She livedin a large old house, in a country town ten miles off. Everything inher house was clean and shining; the rooms smelt very sweet, andgrandmamma was very kind, and let the children do whatever they liked;and her two maids were so good-natured, and petted them; and therewere always such nice cakes, oranges, and jellies. Then, in theevenings there was sure to be a magic lantern, or a man to play thefiddle; in short, going to grandmamma's was a very great pleasure. Mary now asked her papa to come down to the pond, and give her anotherlesson in sliding. He came out, and as they ran along they foundnumbers of things to admire. Every blade of grass was fringed with thewhite frost-work, and the leaves of all the weeds that grew near thehedges looked quite pretty with their new trimming. But, above all, the mosses in the little wood that skirted the field were most lovely. When winter strips the trees of their leaves, then the little brightgreen mosses come and clothe the roots and stems, as if to do all theycan to comfort them; and to-day they were sparkling all over, andseemed to be dressed out for some festival. Mary and her papa stoppedbefore a weeping birch-tree, with the green moss growing on itssilvery white stem. After admiring it for some time, they looked up atits branches that hung drooping over their heads. "How light andfeathery they look, " said Mary. "I think they are quite as pretty asin summer. " "I think so too, " said her papa. "I even think the birch morebeautiful in winter than in summer; and all the trees show us thegrandeur and beauty of their forms more when the leaves are gone. Look at their great sweeping branches. " "Yes, " said Mary, "and then all the little twigs look so pretty, andlike lace-work. " "And more than ever we must admire them, " said her papa, "when wethink that in every little bud at their tips lie the young leavesfolded in, and safely shielded by this brown covering from the cold;but all ready to burst forth when the soft spring air and sunshinetell them it is time. " Mary was delighted at this thought, and they spent a little whilelooking at the different buds, particularly those of thechestnut-trees, with their shining brown coats. Mary took great carenot to break one off; she said, "It would be such a pity the littleleaves should not feel the spring air, and come out in the sunshine. " "But, O Chrissy, what a lovely bunch of jewelled leaves you havecollected!" cried she. "O, yes, that branch in the middle will lookpretty; it has managed to go on looking like coral, and to keep itsdiamonds, because it was so shaded. Now you will put the brown oakleaves, all shining. Here are some more; _do_ put these; and then thepretty little brown beech leaves glittering all over. It looksbeautiful!" "How pretty the form of the oak leaves is, " said Chrissy. "Now let us take it in to mamma, " cried Mary. "But, remember, " said Chrissy, "if we take it in all its charm willvanish. Here in the frosty air it looks as if it had been dressed upby the fairies, but in the warm room we should soon have nothing but abare twig and a few withered leaves. " Mary looked rather sad. "See, " said Chrissy, "let us fasten it to the top of your mamma'sfavorite seat under the beech-tree; it will make a pretty ornamentthere. " Now the sliding began. Mary's papa took hold of her hand and ran withher along the field, till they came to the edge of the pond; then awaythey went, sliding side by side. He kept tight hold of her hand; forshe could not help tumbling down very often, because this was only thesecond time she had tried. Once they both very nearly had a tumble, for Bouncer came out, and ran bounding and barking by their side, andrushed on the ice with them; but he suddenly stopped short andbarked, as if to say, "How is this? What makes the water so hard thismorning?" and when he stopped they nearly tumbled over him, but theymanaged to keep up. After sliding till Mary's face looked like arosy-cheeked apple, it was time to go in to lessons; and afterwardsthey took a walk, and saw some gentlemen and boys skating on the largepond on the Common. Just as Mary's mamma said they must go home, the London coach with itsfour horses came gayly along the hard frosty road along the Common. Aboy on the top waved a red handkerchief, and Mary cried out, "That'sThomas; I know it is!" She was quite right, for the coach stopped, andaunt Mary and Willie got out, while Thomas slid down from the roof. They were soon shaking hands, giving kisses and kind welcomes, and allwalked merrily up the lane, and had a very happy dinner. Then came what Mary called "happy time. " This was the time when itgrew dark, candles were brought, shutters and curtains closed, andthey all collected round the tea-table, while the fire blazed, thekettle boiled, and everything looked bright and pleasant. Thisevening it seemed happier than ever; and next morning it wasdelightful to awake and remember who had come to the cottage, and tosee the party at breakfast; and then to have Thomas and Willie toslide on the pond. Mary grew quite a brave slider before they werecalled in to dinner. When dinner was over, she asked her mamma whether they should not goon with nice work this evening? and her mamma said, "O, yes, theymust, or they should not be ready. " This "nice work" was preparing anumber of presents, which were to be given away at Christmas. None oftheir friends had been forgotten. Mary was busy hemming, knitting, dressing dolls, and making pincushions; her mamma was also hard atwork, and besides, was often cutting out and fixing, and had a villagegirl, who came almost every day for work, making frocks and differentthings; Chrissy was also busy making all kinds of pretty things. When aunt Mary heard of it, she said, "We are all at work in the sameway. Thomas has brought his turning lathe, and a few tools that hehas, and he and Willie are very busy about something. " Thomas put hisfinger on his lips to show her that she must not tell what thatsomething was, and Willie put his arms round her neck, and whisperedsomething very mysteriously. "Chrissy and Mary have some secret too, " said Mary's mamma, "they gointo a room by themselves every day, and nobody must disturb them. " At this they both laughed. "Well, we shall know about it all on Christmas Eve, " said Mary, "andthen, besides, we shall see somebody, mamma says; somebody that iscoming here that we shall like very much, and that we know, and yethave never seen. " "Is it a gentleman or lady?" asked Thomas. "A gentleman, " said Mary; "I have guessed everybody I can think of, but I cannot find out. " "Somebody we know, and yet have never seen, " said Thomas; "who can itbe?" * * * * * THE ROSE-BUD STORIES. GOING TO THE COTTAGE. EGGS AND CHICKENS. THE GOAT AND HER KID. BERTHA AND THE BIRD. THE DUCK HOUSE. MAY DAY AT THE COTTAGE. ADVENTURE OF A KITE. A DAY IN THE WOODS. THE PET LAMB. TWO DEAR FRIENDS. LITTLE AMY'S BIRTHDAY. CHRISTMAS EVE AT THE COTTAGE. * * * * *