Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Bookot say anything, and flew away. [Illustration: "SHE CAME UPON A LITTLE EARTHWORM."] [Illustration: "THE BUTTERFLY FLEW AWAY."] [Illustration: MISCHIEF FROM AN ENGRAVING OF THE PAINTING BY FRED MORGAN.] [Illustration: "THEN SHE SPIED A ROBIN."] [Illustration: "SOON SHE MET A BIG RED COW."] The little gray kitten walked on, and then she spied a robin on a stone wall near-by. "Mew," said the little gray kitten, "Where is my home?" But the robin, cocking his head on one side, answered, "Chirp, chirp," and then spreading his wings, flew away. [Illustration: "RUNNING ALONG SHE CAME UP TO A BIG BLACK DOG."] She felt very sad indeed, but running along she came up to a big black dog. "Mew, mew!" said the little gray kitten, "Oh, can you not tell me where my home is?" But the big black dog shook his tail, and barked "Bow-wow, bow-wow-wow-wow!" so loudly that the little gray kitten ran away from him as fast as she could go. The little gray kitten was very tired, but she still ran on, and soon met a big red cow. "Mew, mew-ew," said the little gray kitten, "Can you not tell me where my home is?" [Illustration: "'OH, YOU DEAR FLUFFY GRAY BALL,' SAID THE LITTLE GIRL."] The big red cow, however, hardly looking at the little kitten, stretched out her big head, and shouted, "Moo, moo-oo!" which so frightened the little gray kitten that she jumped over a fence and landed right in the middle of a flower-bed. There she caught sight of a little girl running up to her, and with such a sweet smile on her face that the little gray kitten ran toward her and said once more, "Mew, do _you_ know where my home is?" "Oh, you dear fluffy gray ball!" said the smiling little girl, catching the kitten up in her arms. "I'm going to take you right home to live with me." The little girl was the only one who had understood, and the little gray kitten purred softly. She was happy for she had found a home. PUSSY'S WHEELS BY ANNIE W. McCULLOUGH I wonder what you're thinking of, my darling little cat. It may be meat, it may be cream, that makes you nice and fat; It may be all the fun you have in barn-loft warm and dry; It may be mice you try to catch as by their hole you lie. Perhaps you think of trees to climb, with birds that sing up there, They always get away from you, although you creep with care. Perhaps you think of warm, green grass, and basking in the sun, Or of your ball, that slides so fast as after it you run. I hope you think of me, sometimes, because I love you well; I hope you love me back again, although you cannot tell; And how I know you're thinking (it's a secret that I've found), Is 'cause I hear, close to my ear, your thought-wheels going round. THE SMALL GRAY MOUSE BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE The small gray Mouse ran East And the small gray Mouse ran West And could not tell in the least Which way was best. The small gray Mouse ran North And the small gray Mouse ran South And scurried back and forth To escape the Kitten's dreadful teeth-lined mouth! But Kitty thought it precious fun To see the panting Mousie run, And when it almost got away Her furry paw upon its back would lay. But Kitty grew too vain and sure; She thought she had the Mouse secure; She turned her head, she shut her eyes. That was not wise, And ere she knew The gray Mouse up the chimney flew, Where dainty cats could not pursue. So she had nothing else to do But miew--oo--oo--! [Illustration: "YOU MAKE SO MUCH NOISE I CAN'T SLEEP!" FROM THE PAINTING BY J. H. DOLPH.] THE RABBIT, THE TURTLE, AND THE OWL The little girl and the little boy stood in the corn-field near the hollow tree where the Owl lived. The corn was in shocks like wigwams, and the yellow pumpkins lay on the ground. The Turtle came up from the brook below the corn-field, and stuck his head out of his shell to watch. The Rabbit sat on the edge of the slope, with his ears sticking straight up, to listen. The sleepy Owl stirred behind his knot-hole. "Don't you think," said the little boy, "that the Rabbit--" "And the Turtle--" said the little girl. "And the Owl," went on the little boy, "should have a Thanksgiving dinner?" "Yes, a good dinner," replied the little girl, "right here in the corn-field." "We could have a pumpkin table," said the little boy. "And pumpkin chairs," said the little girl. So, as Thanksgiving was that very day, and there was no time to lose, they began to work. They found a fine, big, flat-topped pumpkin, and placed it for a table at the foot of the Owl's tree. Then they found three little pumpkins for stools. "They won't want to eat until night," said the little boy. "No," said the little girl; "the Owl and the Turtle and the Rabbit, too,--they like dinner at night." "We will lay everything out for them before we go to Grandmother's," said the little boy, "and when we come home, we can see all eating their good Thanksgiving dinner." The little boy ran and brought parsley and cabbage leaves for the Rabbit; and when the Rabbit saw that, he trotted home in a hurry, for fear he might be tempted to eat before it was time. The little girl brought a fine big mushroom for the Turtle, for she had once seen a turtle nibble all around the edge of a mushroom. "The Owl will have to bring his own dinner," said the little boy, "but I will get him a piece of bread to eat with it." So he did. That night the little girl and boy drove home by moonlight from their grandmother's farm. When they were in their own room they looked out of the window toward the corn-field. They saw the corn-shocks, like wigwams, with black shadows. They saw the tree dark against the sky. They saw the big round yellow moon rising above the ridge of the field. They saw the pumpkin table and pumpkin chairs. They saw, sitting on one chair, the Rabbit, with his ears sticking straight up as he ate his parsley and cabbage. They saw the Turtle, stretching his head out of his shell as he nibbled his mushroom. They saw the Owl on his chair, eating the dinner he had brought. "Oh, isn't it beautiful!" said the little girl. "Beautiful!" said the little boy. HOMES BY ANNIE WILLIS McCULLOUGH My bunnies like their cozy house, although they scamper out to play; My chickens like the slatted coop where all the mother hens must stay. My kitten likes her basket bed out in the woodshed near our door, My puppy loves his cellar box; he sleeps and plays, then sleeps some more. But _I_ have got the nicest home. My house is better far than theirs; Its windows let the sunshine in; it has a porch, it has some stairs. But I like best the kitchen warm, with table, stove, and pantry neat; The place where Dinah works, and makes good things for us to eat! [Illustration: Bill of Fare Fish Perch Entree Bread Vegetables Corn Carrots Tomatoes Dessert Watermelon Apples.] [Illustration: Here comes our dinner!] [Illustration: A Shower of good things.] [Illustration: MEAL-TIME IN THE BEAR-PITS AT THE ZOO.] A G |