My Treasure — Themes and Context

Sun was shin-ing, birds were sing-ing, Flow-ers bloom-ing, May-bells ring-ing! Oh the glad May-day!

So they two went forth a May-ing, Laugh-ing, dan-cing, sing-ing, say-ing "Oh the bright May-day! What care we for moth-er's warn-ing? Who would bide at home this morn-ing? Oh the glad May-day!"

"SHOUL-DER arms!" said Dick. "For-ward, march!" If you had been in the room next to the hall where the chil-dren were play-ing that rain-y day, you would have thought that an ar-my was march-ing back and forth, they made such a noise. Then, all at once, the noise stopped. "The ar-my will lie down, and go to sleep for the night," said Dick. The ar-my lay down to play sleep, and in a twin-kling it fell in-to a real sleep. Ev-er-y man was in the land of Nod. Jane, who had been out to the barn for a bas-ket of ap-ples, was so sur-prised at the sight, that three great red ones fell out on the floor be-fore she could catch them. Just at that mo-ment the boys' eyes o-pened, and they had the ap-ples in less than no time.

THE DISOBEDIENT MOUSE.

SAD is the tale I have to tell, Of what a lit-tle mouse be-fell. "My darl-ing child," His moth-er said, "There are two things That you must dread. One is the mon-ster called a cat; And one a trap. Ne'er go near that, No mat-ter how the cheese may smell: You'll rue the day. Mark my words well."

And mous-ey lis-tened to her say. Had he but heed-ed! Well-a-day! That ver-y night he smelled some cheese. Quoth he, "What o-dors sweet are these? I'll go and see: per-chance the cook Has dropped a bit. Here's for a look!" A-las! a-las! dear chil-dren all, He dis-o-beyed. Be-hold his fall. He saw the trap, with bits of cheese. "I'll on-ly take just one of these,-- A sin-gle one, not an-y more." Click went the spring; down fell the door!

How sleek looks puss-y! How well fed! Poor mous-ey's moth-er weeps in bed.

"O Ro-ver! I love you," Young Mas-ter Ber-tie said. To prove his words were true, He hugged the dog's rough head. * * * Ro-ver knew not one half His lit-tle mas-ter said; But when he heard him laugh, He quick-ly raised his head. * * * He loved to run a-bout A-mong the lambs and sheep, Which lay in groups a-bout, Ap-pa-rent-ly a-sleep. * * * He'd leap a five-barred gate, And then, with con-scious pride, For Bertie's com-ing wait Up-on the oth-er side.

What great fish is this? It is a shark. He is fast now, and the men will soon have him up on the ship's deck, where they will make an end of him.

Sharks are ve-ry fierce. They are so large, too, that they can eat up a man with-out a-ny trou-ble. In some parts of the world peo-ple nev-er dare go in bath-ing, be-cause of them. You can see in the pic-ture what great teeth they have. This fel-low has been at ma-ny a bad piece of work, I have no doubt; but now all his pranks are at an end. He has fol-lowed the ship mile af-ter mile to pick up a-ny scraps that were thrown o-ver, and they have tast-ed so well, that when he saw a great piece of pork come splash in-to the wa-ter, he swal-lowed it down with-out stopping to think that there might be a hook in it. Then all at once he found that he was fast. Strug-gle as hard as he could, it was of no use; he was held fast.

"Ho! mas-ter ba-by boy. Where are you go-ing? Dark are the win-try skies: Soon 'twill be snow-ing. Back to the nur-se-ry, Where the fire's glow-ing." * * * "I doe back"-- stamps his foot.

"No! I are doe-ing Down to my busi-ness. A big boy I'm drow-ing. Just where my pa-pa does, Dat's where I'm doe-ing."

THESE are Jack and Jill. Do you not see their pail? They fill it with salt wa-ter.

"WHAT a sweet lit-tle lamb!" said May. "No: it is a wolf. I must run: he will eat me."

MILK FOR BABY'S SUPPER.

"PLEASE, Mrs. Wright, moth-er would like to bor-row a cup of milk for ba-by's sup-per. Our cow has strayed a-way, and Tom has gone to find her."--"Of course she shall have it, Tom," said Mrs. Wright. "How is ba-by?" Tom's lit-tle ba-by sis-ter had been ver-y ill, and they had all been a-fraid that she would not live. But now she was much bet-ter. Tom told Mrs. Wright this, and then ran home.

THERE was a little lad Whose name was Tad, Down by the sea. "A-ha! a-ha" cried he: "A play-fellow I see, Com-ing to play with me."

But soon he changed his cry: The tears came in his eye. "Let go!" he cried; "let go! You don't play fair, you know. O mam-my, quick! Boo-hoo! He'll bite my finger through!"

MEG and her lit-tle sis-ter Bell went for a walk in the mea-dow. A cow came down to the brook to drink. Bell was pick-ing some flow-ers, and did not see her un-til she was close up-on her. Then she gave a loud cry, and ran to Meg, and clutched tight hold of her dress. Meg soon set her fears to rest; and the cow looked on with wide o-pened eyes, as much as to say, "What a fool-ish child this is! I give her milk ev-er-y day."

BET-TY came to make a call on Pol-ly. So Pol-ly got out all her toys, and put them on the floor in a great heap, and they each sat down be-side them. Bet-ty liked best of all a stuffed rab-bit that squeaked when you squeezed it; and she tucked it un-der her arm, and took it all a-bout from room to room with her. Pol-ly at last, when she saw how much she liked it, gave it to her for her ver-y own; and Bet-ty went home hap-py, with the rabbit on her arms.

"FLY LITTLE BIRD AWAY."

A LIT-TLE girl Read in her book, How a wick-ed boy A wild bird took From out its nest In the green-wood tree. A cap-tive now 'Tis forced to be, And flut-ters its poor wings all day long, And beats the bars of its cage so strong.

"Poor lit-tle bird!" She soft-ly cried; Then on her head Her hood she tied, Took down the cage Of her own bird, Opened the door, With joy-ous word. "Fly, lit-tle bird, a-way," quoth she, "Back to your home in the green-wood tree."

A-way, a-way, The glad bird flew, Far out of sight, In heav-ens blue. The wee girl watched With won-der-ing eye, Till it had fad-ed In the sky, Then sat her down, and cried, "Boo-hoo! My bird is gone! What shall I do?"

Her pin-a-fore With tears was wet: "My bird a-gain, "I'll nev-er get." At last she raised Her weep-ing eye, And there at hand, What should she spy But bird-ie hop-ping in his door, Tired of his freedom, back once more.

"Come in, puss," said lit-tle May, "and you shall have a nice cup of milk for your break-fast. And I will put a fresh rib-bon on your neck, too." Puss walked in at once, for he was ve-ry hun-gry. For more than an hour she had been watch-ing at a mouse-hole, but the mouse would not come out and be caught. So at last she had grown tired of wait-ing.

TOM and Grace and Lou had been down to the brook the day be-fore, and had caught three frogs. They got one of pa-pa's old ci-gar box-es, and lined it with leaves, and cut small holes in it, that the air might pass in and out.

The next morn-ing they o-pened the box, and put them on the grass: they looked ver-y ill. "Let's take them back to the brook," said Lou. As soon as the frogs saw the wa-ter, they jumped, and were seen no more.

HERE we are out in the wild woods. What a pret-ty lit-tle glade it is, with a spring of fresh wa-ter in it! But see, there are two stags here, fight-ing as if they were bit-ter foes. Their great wide-spread ant-lers are locked in-to each oth-er's. It some-times hap-pens in these fights that the ant-lers get so fast-ened to-geth-er that the stags can-not get them a-part. Then they both die. This will show you how quar-rels of-ten have ve-ry sad ends.

TOM and Grace hur-ried through their break-fast, and ran out to feed their pet rab-bit. Grace did not ev-en wait to put on her hat. But, when they came to the hutch, there was no rab-bit there.

"We must tell John to look for him," said Grace. "There he is! Let's run." So they ran down the path to meet the gar-den-er's boy. John said that he would look just as soon as he took the bas-ket of let-tuce to the cook.

"OH, dear! Oh, dear! 'Tis al-most nine. The birds all sing, The sun does shine. Poor Doll and I To school must go: I don't see why, We hate it so. I hate those let-ters. They twist and turn. There's no use try-ing: I'll nev-er learn. * * * Hur-rah! hur-rah! At last it's two! I am so glad! What shall we do? Come, Doll, let's run. I'll nev-er go, When I get big, To school, I know; But ev-er-y min-ute of the day I'll spend just as I like, in play."

PA-PA and mam-ma will soon have sup-per; for I see Jane bring-ing it in on a tray. But, un-til they do, May is to ride a cock-horse on her pa-pa's knee. Pa-pa goes to town to business ev-er-y day, and, when he comes back, May and her sis-ter Fan run to meet him. They take his hat, and bring his slip-pers, and put him in the big chair in front of the fire; and then they climb up in-to his lap, and play with him. He rath-er seems to like it.

BELL AND HER PET DOG.

This dog's name is Puck, and a ve-ry wide-a-wake dog he is, as you may see from the pic-ture. His mis-tress is a lit-tle girl named Bell, and he is ve-ry fond of her. At night he sleeps coiled up at the foot of her bed. Some-times when she wakes she finds him ly-ing on the pillow, with his head close to her cheek, and one ve-ry cold night he man-aged to get in bed un-der the clothes. He is a ve-ry clever dog. If you tell him to beg, he will sit on his hind paws and wave his fore paws in the air. If he is thirs-ty, he will bring his cup for you to fill it with wa-ter for him.

The first time Bell ev-er saw her dog was in the street. He had lost his mas-ter, and came to her for help. She could not find his home for him, so she took him home with her, and there he has lived ev-er since. Now he has for-got-ten his old mas-ter en-tire-ly, and cares for on-ly Bell.

"MEW-MEW!" said two lit-tle wee black kit-tens. Grace stooped down, and picked one of them up. "Mew!" it said, and then tried to play with the neck-lace she had on. The oth-er kit-ten did not like this at all. She pulled at Grace's dress with her small black paw. So then she was tak-en up too, and both soon snug-gled down in Grace's lap, and went fast a-sleep. But where was the mam-ma cat all this time? She had gone back to the barn, where all her kit-tens were born, to bring an-oth-er one to the house, to show her mis-tress what a fine fam-i-ly she had. She had hard work to get in; for John, the man, had closed the doors. She walked a-round the barn, and at the back she found a win-dow o-pen. Ned, the don-key, had his head out of it; but she scram-bled in be-side him, and took up an-oth-er kit-ten in her mouth, and ran back to the house a-gain.

When she reached it, she found that Jane had closed the front-door. She mewed as loud as she could; but it was some time be-fore an-y one heard her, and o-pened it. But at last she reached her mis-tress safe-ly with her third child. She her-self was white, and so was one of the kit-tens. The other two were as black as coals.

KATE was ver-y un-hap-py. She had left her best doll in the path in front of the house the night be-fore; and some one had stepped on it in the dark, and it was crushed in-to bits. So Kate was cry-ing; for poor Ar-a-min-ta Jane was her pride and joy. Just then her broth-er Rob came in. "Why, you poor lit-tle girl!" he said. "I am so sor-ry! If you will come out with me, I will show you how to play crick-et; and you shall use my new bat." Kate cheered up ver-y much at this, and ran to put on her hat. Rob was so kind to her that she had a ver-y good time, and for-got all a-bout Ar-a-min-ta Jane in the fun of the game.

"IS she coming to-night, mamma?" asked Marion.

"Yes, dear, I think so. We shall know very soon now. Papa will be here in about ten minutes."

Marion and Elvie Reade ran to the window. They were very anxious to see this little cousin who was coming home with papa.

"Rebie'll be our new sister; won't she?" said Elvie.

"Yes. And papa said we must be real kind to her, for she hasn't any papa or mamma now."

"Yes, we will. I guess--Oh! there's papa, now. And--oh! Marion! Rebie's crying. Let's go kiss her."

Out ran the two little girls, while mamma stood in the doorway with little Ernest, and aunt Maria stood on the steps.

Little Rebie couldn't help crying, yet she liked her new home for all that. But her cousins kissed her so lovingly, that Rebie soon smiled through her tears.

And when baby Ernest said, "Ernie love oo, tousin Rebie," she laughed a soft little laugh. Then they thought Rebie wouldn't feel lonely any more.

"I think your papa _most_ as good as my papa," Rebie whispered to Elvie after they had gone to bed that night. Elvie thought him a _little_ better, but she was too polite to say so.

HARRY and little Violet thought it the very best play-house in the world. And I don't think Gyp would have enjoyed any other half so well. It was papa's big boat.

They could sit in it and see mamma when she came to the door of the little house near by, where they lived. And they could watch papa as he went out in his small boat, or dory, as he called it. Harry could see him far out on the water by standing up on the side of the boat. Little Violet was afraid to climb up so high.

Sometimes Harry and Violet took their dinner and ate it in the boat. Then Gyp always shared it with them. He would sit beside them in the boat, or perhaps lie on the sand and wait for Harry to throw him his share bit by bit.

The children liked to make Gyp speak for his dinner. But best of all, they liked to toss it up, and see Gyp spring and catch it in his mouth.

One day, when they were playing near the water, Violet's sun-bonnet blew off, and a wave washed it out beyond her reach. Then Gyp was ready to help his little mistress. He swam out, seized it in his mouth, and soon laid it at Violet's feet. She was so glad she hugged him, wet as he was. And he repaid her, by shaking himself and sprinkling her all over.

POOR little Carlos stood thinking. He did not know what to do. He wanted to tell the truth, yet he didn't like to have mamma blame him for breaking Sylvia's doll. And he didn't think he was all to blame either. The butterfly and Dandy both helped, he thought.

This was the way it happened. A beautiful large butterfly came through the open window into the dining-room, then flitted out into the hall. Carlos and his dog Dandy gave chase. Once, in his eagerness, he stumbled over Dandy. And in trying to escape a fall he knocked the doll to the floor. There was the body in one place, the head in another. Why did Sylvia leave it right in his way?

At last Carlos decided to do the best thing--go and tell mamma all about it.

Mamma listened patiently. Then she told Carlos that it would have been better not to try to catch the butterfly. The pretty thing would die if he caught it and shut it up.

Mamma told Carlos that Sylvia was partly to blame for leaving her doll in such a place. But Carlos must be more careful next time.

Carlos felt very happy as he ran out of doors with Dandy. And he thought it the nicest way in the world, to go and tell mamma everything.

CAN you see the old man behind his rows of cages? In them are many poor little birds. They cannot fly about in the pure sweet air. The old man sells them. That is the way he earns his money.

Then why does he look so displeased? The young man, with the empty cage in his hand, has just bought a bird and laid the money on the counter.

The young man loves birds so well that he bought one on purpose to set it free.

The old man is wishing he could get the bird and sell it again. He thinks it foolish to throw away money. And he tells the young man so.

"Not thrown away, my friend," says the young man. "It is well spent if it gives pleasure even to the smallest creature."

"'Twas only a bird," insists the old man.

"But God made the birds. And not one falls to the ground without his notice. I think we shall have to give an account of the way we treat his birds."

"Well, I wish I had that one again."

"And I wish I could open all these cages."

BABY Bell thought she could do just as she pleased everywhere, and with everybody. And she generally did. She even trotted into Mrs. Burnett's, a sad, lonely woman, who lived all alone by herself in the next house.

One day she came pattering into the room where Mrs. Burnett sat. She clung to her dress. She looked up lovingly into the sad face. Then she lisped forth,--

"_Miss Nett_, Baby Bell tiss you."

Then she put up her sweet lips to give a kiss. Who could resist such a baby? Not even Mrs. Burnett. She took the child on her lap, and covered her face with kisses and tears. Baby Bell looked on wonderingly.

When papa came for her she said, "_Miss Nett_ tryin', Baby Bell tiss her lots."

Mrs. Burnett explained. "I lost a baby just her age. I felt since that I had no one to love me. But Baby Bell loves me, I am sure. I hope she will come often."

"As often as you and she wish," said papa.

"Baby Bell tum ev'y day--tum see _Miss Nett_. Baby Bell love _Miss Nett_," added the baby, looking back over papa's shoulder.

UNCLE SOL was going to take a party of boys out in his boat. All had scrambled in but one little fellow, the smallest of the party.

"Tumble in, Frankie," said Uncle Sol. But still Frankie hesitated.

"Don't you want to go?" asked the old sailor.

"Yes, sir," answered Frankie, slowly, "but mamma doesn't like to have me go on the water."

"She's afraid since papa was drowned."

"Don't go, then, my boy. Don't worry your mother. She's had trouble enough already;" and Uncle Sol began to push the boat out into the water.

"Pooh! Come on!" shouted Horace, the tallest boy in the boat. "Your mother'll never know. We'll keep dark."

"Don't you go to learnin' Frankie any bad ways," said Uncle Sol, sternly. "Boys never come to much in the world unless they mind their mother. I've always noticed that."

Horace sat down rather ashamed of his bold words. And little Frankie looked at Uncle Sol gratefully, saying, "I know mama'll be glad to have me come home:" and with a happy laugh he ran away from the boat.

"YOU may put on your coat now, Hugh, and take these things to Mrs. Larry. You have barely time before school, you must hurry."