Emilie Poulsson.

In the child's world; morning talks and stories for kindergartens, primary schools and homes online

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Tlie Trouble Grandpa Nature had with the Horse, Wide Awake, Oct., 1891
In the Country of the Horses ('' Gulliver's Travels"), - Dean Swift

Description of Horse, . . . . - Job, xxxix: 19

The Chimera, ....... Hawthorne

Pegasus in Pound, ...... Longfellow

Pegasus in Harness, ..-._. Schiller

Muleykeh (Dramatic Idylls, 2nd Series), - - - R. Browning

"How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix," R. Browning
East and West, - - - Ruayard Kipling

John Gilpin, _-.. - - Cow per

Paul Revere, .. - ... Longfellow

Sheridan's Ride, - - - - - - T. Buchanan Read

FOR THE CHILDREN.

Black Beauty, - - - - * - - AnvM Sewell

Kicking, -.-.. - . Mrs. Gatty
The Bell of Atri, - - - - Longfellow

At the Back of the North Wind, . - _ George MncDonaia



STORIES.

A WISE OLD HORSE.

I will tell you a true story of this horse.* He was the horse of
a Mr. Lane; and Mr. Lane, on going home one day, turned the
horse into a field to graze.

A few days before this, the horse had been shod, but had been
"pinched," as the blacksmiths call it, in the shoeing of one foot;
that is, the shoe was so tight as to hurt the foot.

The next morning, after Mr. Lane had turned the horse into
the field to graze, he missed him. " What can have become of
old Sol?" asked he. The name of the horse was Solomon. He
was so named because he was wise.



♦Tbe animal belonged to the late Mr. J. Lane, of Freacombe, Gloucestershirp.EcBland,
and tiie anecdote on which the story is founded i-i told by the Rev. Thomas Jackson.



153 IN THE CHILD'S WORLD.

When Mr. Lane asked where old Sol was, Tim, the stable-bo}-,
said, ''I think some thief must have got him; for I cannot find
Sol in the field or in the cow-yard."

" What makes you think that a thief has got him?" said Mr.
Lane.

'•'Well, sir," said Tim, ''the gate of the field has been lifted
off the hinges, and left on the ground."

"That is no proof that a thief took the horse," said Mr. Lane.
"I think that old Sol must have done that himself. I will tell
you how we can find out. We will look at the gate; and, if there
is a mark of SoFs teeth on it, we shall know he has let himself
out."

So they went to the gate, and there, ou the top rail, was the
mark of a horse's teeth.

" Now, why should old Sol want to get out of this nice field,
so full of grass and clover?" thought Mr. Lane.

"Perhaps," said Tim, "the blacksmith can tell us about him."

" I will drive over to the blacksmith's shop, and see," said Mr.
Lane.

So Mr. Lane drove over to the blacksmith's shop, which Avas a
mile and a half oft', and said to Mr. Clay, the blacksmith, " Have
you seen any thing of old Sol?"

"Why, to be sure!" said Mr. Clay. "Old Sol came here to-
day, and told me I had made a bad job of it in jDutting the shoe
on his left fore-foot.'"

"What do you mean, Mr. Clay?" said Mr. Lane. "A horse
cannot talk."

" Oh, true! he did not say it in words; but he said it by acts as
plainly as I can say it. He came to the forge where I stood; and
then held up his foot, and looked at me, as if he would like to
say, if he could, 'Mr. Clay, you are getting careless in your old
age. Look at that shoe. See how it j^inches my foot. Is that
the way to shoe a decent old horse like me? Now, arc not you
ashamed of yourself? Ease that shoe at once. Take it olr, and
put it", on in a better way.' "

" Can it be that old Sol said all that by his look?" asked 3[r.
Lane, laughing.

"All that, and more," said Mr. Clav. "lie stood still.asa




Going to the Bl,acksmith's



154 IX THE child's world.



post while I tooii off the shoe. And then I put it on so it might
not hurt him. And, when I had done it, he gave a merry neigh,
as if to say, ' Thank you, Mr. Clay,' and off he ran. And now,
if you will go back to the field, you will find him there eating
his breakfast.''

fSo Mr. Lane laughed, and bade Mr. Clay good- morning; and
back to the field he drove. And there he found Tim putting up
the gate; and there in the field was old Sol eating grass, and a&
happy as could be.

Was not Sol a wise old horse?

Emily Carter.
7)1 " The Nursenj.'^



PEGASUS.



In the land of Lycia, with its fertile grain fields and gardens^
there once came a terrible great creature which ruined the crops
and laid everything waste before it. The king of the country
was in great trouble and knew not what to do. It happened
that a young man seeking adventures had just come to the court,
and the king bade him make ready to fight the monster. The
young man — whose name was Bellerophon — was eager to succeed,
but he knew that this was a dangerous undertaking.

One night, as he lay pondering how he should accomplish this
great deed and bring safety to the people, he fell asleep and
dreamed that Minerva (Athene), the Wise Goddess, came to him
and put a golden bridle in his hand. When he arose in the
morning his foot touched something on the floor. He looked
down, and there lay the golden bridle of his dream. Minerva,
he thought, must have given it to him, and must have meant to
show him that she would lend him aid, but Avhat he was to do
with a bridle he did not know. He still held it in his hand as
he crossed the grass to the sjoring. The water was bubbling
from its source just as usual, but what was the wonderful crea-
ture drinking there? Bellerophon stojoped, filled with aston-
ishment and delight, and stood gazing at its beauty. It was a



IN THE child's WORLD. 155

horse of snowy whiteness, with great, dazzling white wings; one
dainty hoof was in the water and its long mane fell forward as it
stooped to drink. The moment it caught sight of Bellerophon
it threw up its head with a startled look and seemed on the point
of dashing away or of rising into the air on its broad wings.

As Belleroplion took a step forward — the horse eyeing the
golden harness in liis hand — he hardly dared tliink he could
bridle such a beautiful wdd creature. Yet it seemed to him tliat
this must be what Minerva meant him to do. When he made
the attempt the horse trembled a little, but did not resist, and
even allowed liim to vault upon its back. As Bellerophon sat
securely in his j)lace and the liorse pranced and curveted over the
grass, the two were certainly a fine pair to look upon. Still
more so when the horse suddenly spread his wings and the two
were seen sailing through the air as easily as an eagle soars over
the fields and hills.

Now Bellerophon felt that, with the aid of this wonderful
horse, he miglit hope to conquer the monster. The next day he
set out with Pegasus — that was the horse's name — and they did
conquer it, so that all the land was free again.

When they came back to the spring where the horse had first
appeared, Bellerophon led him to the water and stood watching
as Pegasus drank of the cool stream. Bellerophon knew that he
must free the horse now, and let him return to his favorite abiding
place high upon the mountains. There among the snowy peaks
Pegasus loved to dwell, though he came down now and then to
some flowery meadow to crop the young grass or to drink of the
clear waters of the springs. Bellerophon grieved to lose him,
and Pegasus, too, seemed sorry that they must part. After
Bellerophon had taken off his bridle the horse whinnied and
thrust his nose into Bellerophon's hand, as if to tell him he
would come back again. Then with a bound and a rushing of
wings he was gone.

He did come back afterwards to help in other brave deeds,
and Bellerophon and the swift-winged horse were always fast
friends.

F. H.



156 IX THE child's world.



THE HOKSE THAT FED HIS FRIEND,

L. H. sends this true story about a horse: —

There were two horses, one of them blind, belonging to a
country doctor out West, who for eighteen years drove them on
his rounds of visiting, generally harnessing them together.

One evening, the doctor took out his blind horse alone, and
drove him until late. Oti his return he put the horse into a stall
next to that of its mate, there being a tight board partition be-
tween them from floor to ceiling. Then he threw some ears of
corn into the manger and went in-doors.

By and by, the doctor was startled by curious sounds from the
stable, and he took a lantern and went to see what was the mat-
ter. As he drew near, he heard the two mates calling and answer-
ing each other in cheerful tones; and, when he looked into the
stable, there was the blind horse pushing ears of corn to his friend
through a big knot-hole in the partition! The two old chums
were having a brotherly chat, and enjoying it all the more because
they were going halves in something good to eat.

St. Nicholas.

June, 1880.



THE cow.



To THE Teacitki:: —

In taking the cow for our subject, it seems
advi'sable to lay most stress upon itsiiroducts,
since they are more familiar to city children
than the animal itself. But this has been so
admirably, indeed so perfectly, done already
in the series of object lessons on the cow in
Miss Wiltse's book "Kindergarten Stories and
. Morning Talks," that a different line is taken
here, recurring to the idea presented in " The

Baker" — that is, that even our commonest necessities are procured for

us by the self-sacrifice and labor of many people.




THE TALK.

(A little guessing play is iisualh' much relished by children, and
is also rather quickening to their wits; so it may well have place
occasionally in kindergarten.

Give a few easy objects first, like the piano, the plants, the ilag,
etc., to get the children started in guessing the object from a
brief description; then let them guess the cat and the horse in
the same manner.)

And now, says the teacher, I am thinking of another animal.
It has a backbone, it has four legs, it gives milk to its little ones.
It is like the cat and the horse both, in all those things, isir't it?

It is a large animal, it has hoofs, and it eats grass. Is that like
the cat? No. Like the horse? Yes. But it has two horns.
Is that like the horse?

It lives in the barn and the farmer takes good care of it, for it
is a good, kind creature and very useful.



158 IX THE child's world.

(Do not prolong the guessing beyond the point of lively inter-
est, nor allow random guesses. If the children do not know by
this time that it is the cow you are describing, tell what the animal
says or show a picture. The talk should not be given without a
good picture or pictures, since the cow is certainly not familiar
to all the children.

As the picture is shown, let the children give what descriptive
items they can from it. The teacher will probably need to explain
and supplement, noting the diflPerence between the cow's hoof and
the horse's hoof, etc.)

\yhen the cow bites off the grass or hay, she does not really eat
it at first, but packs it away in a paunch or bag which she
has inside her big body. (This paunch holds from fifteen to
eighteen gallons.)

When this big bag is full, the cow lies down; and the grass or
hay, or whatever she has eaten, comes ujj into her mouth, one
little ball of it at a time, and then she chews it and really eats it.
Sheep, camels and deer also chew the cud.

Who knows what the cow can give us for our breakfast? Yes,
indeed I All the nice milk we drink comes from the cow. Per-
haps soine of yott only thought of the milkman bringing the milk,
but he had to get it from the farmer: and who do you stTppose
gave it to the farmer but the good old cow!

Many people have been working already this morning so that
we could have milk for our breakfasts, to drink or to put in tea
or coffee.

Somebody had to get up early to milk the cows and get the
cans of milk ready for the milkman: and the milkman had to start
out early, too, no matter how cold or stormy it was: and the horse
had to iQave his nice, cosy stable and drag the wagon loaded with
the heavy cans of milk all the way to the train or to town for us;
and then the mother had to get the breakfast ready.

Which of you children had milk to drink this morning?
Let us count how many there are to whom we must say
*' Thank you "for it.




Milking.



159



i()0 IN THE child's AVORLD,



TEACHER'S READING.

Winners in Life's Race (Chap. X), . - - Arabella Buckley

Our Rural Divinities (" Birds and Poets"), - - John Burroutjhs

Rudder Grange, - - - Frank E. Stockton

Europa and the White Bull, ) /^ rp,, „ y^ „ . r^ 4.\ >)» rr ,.

Cadmus and the Stray Cow! | (' Tbe Dragon's Teeth"), Hawthorne

The Drovers. I . . . . Whiff ipr

Among the Hills, J tytiimer

High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire, - - Jean Ingelow

Milking, - - - - Celia Thaxter

The Milkmaid, - - - Henry Austin Dobson

The Cowboy's Song, A. M. Wells

Farmyard Song, - - - - - - J. T. Trowbridge

FOR THE CHILDREN.

Thank you, pretty Cow, - - - Jane Taylor

Stories about the Cow (" Kindergarten Stories and Morning

Talks"), - - - S. E. Wiltse



STORIES.

THE STORY THE MILK TOLD ME.

Did you have a drink of good, sweefc milk this morning? YesI
Well, so did I, and let me tell you the story it told me as it stood,
white and creamy, in the tall glass.

You see, just as I was lifting it to my lips, it looked so foam-
ing and fresh, that I said, "Good milk, do tell me where you
came from before the milkman brought you to me?"

The milk bubbled up a little, then settled down quietly and
said, " Yes, I will tell you about it. Before the milkman brought
me to you I stood in a bottle with ever so many other bottles, in
a dark, cool ice box in the milkman's shop, where we shivered
and grew very cold." "Then that is what makes you so cold
now, is it?" said I. "Yes," bubbled the milk. "Well, before
I lived in the milkman's shop, I was swimming around with ever



IN THE child's WORLD. IGi

SO much other milk in a very lai'c^e milk-can, out in the country,
waiting to be bottled and carried to the city'' — " OhI" I interrupt-
ed, " I didn't know you came from the country. Do you grow
on trees or in the ground ? " The milk laughed so hard and shook
so, that it almost spilled itself over on the tablecloth, and I was
afraid it would break the glass. As soon as it could speak again,
it said: ''Dear me! Didn't you know that before I was put
into the milk-can, I came right from the old ''bossy cow," who
stands in the meadow by the river, chewing her cud? But before
that, and before I was white, creamy milk as you see me now, I
grew tall and green on the river bank. No wonder you look
astonished. Yes, I was grass for the good old cow to eat." " And
before you were milk you were grass! How funny! And before
that?" " That is too long a stor\^," rippled the milk; "and too
difficult for me to tell and for you to understand."

" But where do you go after I drink you ? " I asked. " Oh ! after
you drink me," answered the milk, " I change into rich, red
blood, to make your body grow strong and healthy."

"Dear, good milk," said I, as I once more lifted the glass to
my lips, "then I won't say good-bye to you, before I drink you
but I will thank our Heavenly Father for making you, and thank
the good old cow for giving you, and the kind milkman for bring-
ing you to me."

Then I drank the cool, sweet milk, but I remembered its story
to tell to you.

Gertrude H. Noyes.



- THE COW THAT LOST HER TAIL.

There was once a Cow who had the misfortune to lose her tail.
History does not tell us the exact manner in which this unhappy
event took place. Perhaps some enemy struck the foul blow
Avhich deprived the poor animal of this useful ornament. Perhaps
some tail disease made amputation necessary. Perhaps the mow-
ers struck the tail off accidentally with their scythes. Perhaps
— but there are so many "perhapses" in the world that I will not
try to guess any more, but will tell you what I really do know



ir,2 IN" THE CHILD S WORLD.

about the matter, which Avas told me by the tillet of veal we had
for dinner the other day, which belonged to a Calf who was own
son to the very Cow to whom the affair happened. Wise old
George Herbert. Avho, in his day, wrote pretty poetry and invented
curious proverbs, had one saying, the truth of which our Cow
certainly proved. Said he, in his wisdom: "The Cow never
knoweth the value of her tail till she loseth it;'* and this was the
case with our poor friend. In former days she had thought but
little of her tail, and, indeed, had sometimes spoken of it as rather
an inconvenience, getting between her legs in an awkward man-
ner, and being of little use at best. But the blessings we think
least of in our hours of idle prosperity are really often those the
loss of which would be the most serious misfortune which could
happen to us. And thus, when the Cow found that her tail was
actually gone, she began to miss it greatly, and to regret its loss
uncommonly.

In the hot summer days, when the cattle collected around the
trees to stand under the welcome shade, the flies came buzzing
about as usual, annoying the poor creatures as much as they could.
Swish, swish, went the tails of the other cows, brushing off the
tiresome insects, and fanning their own poor sides at the same
time. But our Cow was a helpless victim to the tormentors, who
settled upon her by hundreds at a time, and drove her nearly
wild. Then when the animals were tired of standing still, and
scampered across the field down to the i)ond at a fast gallop, with
their tails stretched out at full length, our poor Cow galloped too,
but she cut the most ridiculous figure without a tail, and felt
very small among the well-tailed cows around her. In the pond,
too, it was no better; the flies were more troublesome than ever
there, and she was obliged to walk in much deeper than she liked,
because she could not brush them away for want of a tail.

What made it most trying of all was the scorn and ridicule of
the other cows, who would never leave off laughing at her mis-
fortune. Nay, the very calves would not let her alone, and old
Jessie, the donkey, was almost the only one Avho had a kind word
for her; for she herself had been so jeered at and insulted through
life that she had learned to have some feeling for other people
when they Avere in the like case.



IN THE child's WOliLD. 1 (J3



At first the Cow tried to endure tlieir laughter quietly, and put
the matter off with a joke, saying that ''at least no one could
now accuse her of being a tale-bearer." But this was foolish,
you know, particularly as the words are not spelt the same, which
the other cows knew perfectly Avell, and only " chaffed '' her all
the more, until her life really became a burdei; to her.

Under these painful circumstances, she at last determined to
seek the assistance of a venerable Farrier who lived near, and who
had great experience in all the diseases and afflictions with which
mortal cows are surrounded. He was as kind-hearted as he was
skillful, and, on the promise of a pint of milk daily for a week,
expressed his readiness to provide the Cow with a new tail. The
promise was willingly given, and the bargain struck. Before the
week was out, a tail, carefully made of thick-plaited straw, was
cleverly fastened to the Cow's back, painted the color of a proper
tail, and warranted by the Farrier to act in every way like the
lost ornament.

Proud and happy at her cure, the Cow returned to her com-
panions, and swished her tail about as merrily as any of them for
a couple of days. The other animals, whatever they might have
thought, said but little, and were in truth glad enough that a
cure had been found which might be required by any one of them
at a futui'c time.

Not long, however, did this state of things last. A shower of
rain washed off some of the paint, and, as she was lashing her
sides near to a thick hedge, her tail caught in a bramble, which
tore out several straws when she moved on. After this, every
thing she caught in, or touched, damaged the tail more and more
— the straw came unplaited, some fell out eacli time she lashed
her sides, and in a very short time she was as tail-less and miser-
able as ever.

Again she sought the Farrier, and laid her case before him,
complaining, witb a melancholy " moo," that his cure had proved
ineffectual. The worthy man expressed his deej) regret, but, in
consideration of her grief, agreed to furnish another tail at the
same price as before. This time it was one which no bramble
could tear, for it was made of clay, thoroughly beaten up and
hardened, and then twisti'd into the form of a tail. It was (^are-



1G4 IN THE child's would.



fully fastened on by the Farrier, painted agiiiu as the straw tail
had been, and appeared likely to answer in every respect.

The Cow returned again to her friends with joy, and, although
she found her new instrument rather awkward at first, was in
great hopes that it would be of much service to her. For several
days all went well, and she recovered her health and spirits, which
had begun to suffer. But one afternoon, while the cattle were
out in the meadows, a storm came on, which raged for several
hours. The rain came down in torrents, and there was no shelter
to be had. Alas for our Cow ! The paint of her tail gradually drop-
ped off in large drops, and little by little the hard clay softened
with the wet. When she lashed her sides, a long clay mark was
left behind, just as if some one had struck her with a muddy
whip, and she felt her tail slipping from her, and becoming lighter
and smaller at every lash. By the next morning she presented a
lamentable appearance, and it was impossible for her to make any
use of the stunted and injured bit of tail which was left.

She betook herself at once to her friend the Farrier, who did
his best to comfort her, and, after some thought over the matter,
agreed to supply her with a third tail, for the gift of a pint of
milk every day for a fortnight. Tiiis was to be a more ex]^>ensive
tail, and required more care in making, and greater strength in
the fastenings. So you will think, when I tell you that it was
made of iron, and in fact was very like a pump-handle. It was
duly painted and put on, and once more our Cow appeared among
her friends with a respectable appendage.

But a new and cruel difficulty now appeared. The weight of
the new tail was so great as to cause the Cow serious inconven-
ience. She did not feel it at first, but, as days wore on, it seemed
to drag her backward by its weight, and made it necessary for her
to rest frequently and for some time. Then, when she lashed her
sides, it struck her such a blow as nearly to break her ribs, and
in a short time she found she really had no strength left to lash
her sides at all. Day by day she grew weaker and weaker, until
at last it was evident that her constitution would break down
under the suffering which she had imposed upon herself by the
purchase of this iron tail. She therefore went to the Farrier,
who was much shocked at her appearance, but at once carefully



IX THE CHILD'8 AVOULD. 165

removed the tail and gave her some strengtheumg medicine. He
then told her that it was j^lain that a light tail was the only thing
for her case, and that, although straw had failed, he thought a
hay tail might answer the j)urpose. He therefore twisted a tail
of hay with great care, secured it as firmly as he could, and sent
her off without asking for payment.

The change was indeed delightful; she swished the flies away
as easily as possible — ran with her tail stretched out as well as
the best of them, and speedily recovered her health and spirits.
But at the end of a week her dream of happiness suddenly ended
in an unexpected manner. She was standing lazily under a tree,
close to the wire fence by the road, dreaming of the past and
speculating on the future in a sleepy manner, when, a fly having
settled on her back, she attempted as usual to brush it off with
her tail. Some slight resistance appeared to be offered, as if some
one was holding her by the tail, and when it yielded, to her hor-
ror the tail fell far short of the fly, and in fact only just touched
her side at all. Turning round in the most indign:int surprise,
she beheld a half-starved tinker's horse, who had been browsing
by the roadside, and, seeing what he supposed to be a tempting
wisp of hay hanging to a cow within his reach, had quietly put
his head over the wire fence and eaten off more than half her
tail before she found it out. She moo'd loudly with rage, hut
could do nothing, and had, moreover, the mortification of seeing
the wayfaring beast enjoying his last mouthful with the keenest
relish.

Driven to despair by this new misfortune, the poor Cow now
applied once more to her friend the Farrier, assuring him that



Online LibraryEmilie PoulssonIn the child's world; morning talks and stories for kindergartens, primary schools and homes → online text (page 10 of 29)