"It's all finished now, the very last stitch; and now for the stockings. Let me see the spots."
Will put his two heels firmly together, turned out his toes, pulled up his puffy pantaloons, and stooped his head and strained his eyes to look for them.
They were but little ones, after all, and a brisk rubbing with the handkerchief, and a judicious pulling down of the trouser bindings, almost concealed them. They were just in time with their repairs; for grandmamma's yellow-wheeled carriage was coming up the avenue.
A little girl knelt down to pray One morn. The mother said, "My love, why do we ever say, Give us our daily bread? Why not ask for a week or more?" The baby bent her head In thoughtful mood towards the floor: "We want it fresh," she said.
One sweet morning little Willie, Springing from his trundle-bed, Bounded to the vine-wreathed window And put out his sunny head.
It was in the joyous spring-time, When the sky was soft and fair, And the blue-bird and the robin Warbled sweetly everywhere.
In the field the lambs were playing, Where the babbling brook ran clear; To and fro, in leafy tree-tops, Squirrels frisked without a fear.
In his ear his baby-brother Baby-wonders tried to speak, And the kiss of a fond mother Rested on his dimpled cheek.
Zephyrs from the fragrant lilacs Fanned his little rosy face, And the heart's-ease, gemmed with dewdrops, Smiled at him with gentle grace.
Gliding back with fairy footsteps, Willie, dropping on his knees, Softly prayed, "Dear God, I love you! Make it always happy, please!"
How pretty little squirrels look perched in the branches of a tree! I like to watch them as they nimbly run up the trunk or spring from bough to bough. One or two are generally to be seen in a clump of great old beeches near a house in the country where I usually spend some happy weeks in summer; and I will tell you a story of a little squirrel whose acquaintance I made there last summer.
I happened to be up very early one morning, long before breakfast was ready or any of the family were down, and I went out into the garden to enjoy the fresh, sweet smell of the early day. The cows were grazing in the field beyond, and now and then lowing a friendly "good-morning" to each other. Some ducks were waddling in procession down to the pond, quacking out their wise remarks as they went. The little birds were singing lustily their welcome to the new-born day. Even the old watch-dog came yawning, stretching, blinking and wagging his tail in kindly dog-fashion to bid me "good-day" in the summer sunshine.