Emilie Poulsson.

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

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There was once a Dandelion plant which grew in the grass just
outside a garden fence. The leaves of the plant were thick and
green, and its flower (held on rather a high stem, for it was a late
blossom) was very full and round, and of the brightest yellow.

The Dandelion was usually as happy as a queen — though not
because of the golden crown, oh, no! Nor is it the crown which
makes the queen happy, if that is what you are thinkingi But
the Dandelion was happy in the beautiful world and in her loving,
friends, and happy in her work and her play.

Who were her friends? Oh! the Sunbeams who came sliding
down from the great sun and kept little Dandelion warm, and
made her green leaves greener and her yellow flower brighter
whenever they came: and the Raindrops who tumbled their little
silvery selves down upon her, as if in a great fury sometimes, but
only intending a frolic and not really hurting her. They brougtit
her all the water she had to drink and bathe in, and Dandelion
missed them very much if they stayed long away. The great
Winds were her friends, too. Dandelion was just the least bit
afraid of them, to tell the truth, and liked them best when they
were gentle and quiet, or when they sent their messengers, the
little Breezes, to play with her.



66 IN THE CHILD S WOKIJ).

Dandelion had friends of another sort, too; little creatures made
of niusie, motion, and feathers, — (we call them birds).

Insects, too. visited her; — butterflies as yellow as her flower,
grasshopi)ers as green as her leaves, bees going a-marketing for
houey and ])ollen, ants running nimbly along on their six thread-
like legs, and many, many others, down to the tiny, moving,
black specks which seemed too small to be alive and yet were as
full of life as their larger neighbors.

Besides all these friends, Dandelion had some flower friends;
the clovers who lived near her on the roadside, and the garden
flowers who lived on the other side of the fence. The nearest
neighbors among the garden flowers were some morning-glories
who had actually climbed over the fence and were as friendly as
possible.

Dandelion's play was with any of these different friends. Her
work was to grow and make seeds, — as many good seeds as she
})0ssiljly could.

As the long, bright days passed. Dandelion worked faithfully,
in a flower's quiet, unseen way of working; and at last her seeds
were formed. Instead of the golden crown of a flower which she
had worn, her stalk held up a beautiful ball of silvery gauze. The
tinv seeds were in this ball and would be ripe very soon.

One day Dandelion saw two children. Max and Nannie, walk-
ing about in the garden in a very business-like way. When they
came to the morning-glory vine, she could hear what they were
saying.

" Where is the box for the morning-glory seeds. Max?" called
the little girl. *' I see ever so many ripe ones."

'• Here it is," replied Max, who had been looking in the basket
which he carried. ''We must gather a great many morning-
glory seeds, for you know we want to plant them all along the
fence next year; and we are going to send some to Cousin Fan,
too."

"Yes, and then she will have the same kind of flowers away off
there that we have here," said Nannie, as she poked among the
leases and blossoms of the morning-glory vine to find the ])lump
seed vessels. Soon she had gathered all the ripe ones, and she
jind Max went back up the garden walk and into the house.



IN THE child's WORLD. 67

The Dandelion plant pondered on what it had heard. Seeds!
Why, Dandelion plants had seeds as well as morning-glory vines!
Probably Max and Nannie would come for her seeds. They would
soon be ready, — in a few days, surely.

The few days passed quickly. Every morning Max and Nannie
came out with their basket and little boxes and went to the garden
plants, gathering the ripe seeds. But alas! for the hopes of the
Dandelion plant! They never looked at her or even thought of
her seeds, although they loved dandelions as vrell as any other
children.

Poor Dandelion felt very much slighted. Why did not Max
and Nannie want her seeds to plant next year or to send to Cousin
Fan? Who would gather her seeds? She had tried so hard and
worked so faithfully, and arranged her seeds so beautifully. Was
it all for nothing?

Hark! ''Cheer-up! Cheer-up!" sang a robin in the orchard;
and a little whispering breeze rustled past her, breathing softly:
''Wait, oh, wait!"

"Ah! but what will become of my seeds? No one will gather
them and they will all be wasted."

The breeze passed on and then came a stronger puff of air.

" West Wind is coming," thought Dandelion, trembling a little;
and just then' she heard him calling.

" What, ho! there, Dandelion! Are you too warm? I will fan
you. Are you too wet? I will help you shake the heavy drops
from your leaves and flowers."

"No," said the Dandelion, "my leaves are not laden with
water, nor is my heart parched with heat; but my seeds, my
precious seeds are all to be wasted. No one will gather them."

"Ho, ho!" laughed W^est Wind, noisily, but kindly. "And
what do you wish to have done with your seeds?"

" I wish they could be planted next year," said Dandelion,
"some of them here, and some of them far away, — just as will be
done to the seeds of the garden plants.''

"Ho, ho!" laughed West Wind again, as noisily and kindly as
before. " That is an easy matter to arrange. In fact it is
arranged. It is one of the things I was to attend to this very
morning, if your seeds were ripe."



68



IN THE CHILD'S WORLD.



"And have you brought a little box with you ?" asked Dandelion.

" Not n " replied West Wind. " I manage differently from the
children. I sow the seeds as I gather them, and I also cover them.
Then they are all ready to wake up and grow in the early spring."

*' Oh! thank you, good West Wind," said Dandelion. " What
a kind friend you are!"

" It is a part of our work," said West Wind. '' My brothers
and I have a great deal of seed-sowing to do in all the forests and
fields over the whole earth. But I must not talk any longer.
Now, ready! One, two, three, whew! Away they go."



't:



y



Dandelion heard a merry
whistle and felt a sudden
strong puff against her. V=^

At the same instant all
her seeds were gone. Where the
feathery white ball had been there
showed now a little bald knob.

" Why!" said Dandelion, rather bewil-
dered, "how quickly that was done!"

She looked about her. Here and there
on the grass near her she saw several of
her seeds; and then looking farther and
yet farther away she could see others
whirling and dancing through the air
carried along by the friendly seed sowei',
AVest Wind.

The little silky plumes which each seed
wore, and which had made Dandelion
ball of silvery gauze,
made it easy for the
wind to take the seeds
as far as Dandelion
could wish; and some
were also left to grow





■^/ar-'



'^^^



right there on the roadside bank, where she herself had alwayslived.

Dandelion was very happy. The robin in the orchard sang

again his hearty " Cheer-upi Cheer-upJ "and a little breeze which



IX THE CHILD S WORLD. 69

followed after AVest Wind whispered softly as before: " WaitI oh,
wait!"

"Yes," said Dandelion; "there was no need of my worrying.
But who would have thought that the great West Wind would
take care of the seeds of a plain little Dandelion ! "'

Emilie Poulsson.



THE DANDELION CYCLE.

" Pretty little Goldilocks, shining in the sun.
Pray, what will become of you when the summer's done ?"

" Then I'll be old Silverhead; for, as I grow old,
All my shining hair will be white instead of gold.

" And where rests a silver hair that has blown from me,
Other little Goldilocks in the Spring you'll see!



" Goldilocks to Silverhead, Silverhead to gold,
So the change is going on every year, I'm told."



E. P



ODYSSEUS AND THE BAG OF WINDS.

Far-famed Odysseus was on his way across the sea, to his home
in rocky Ithaca, when he came to the island of ^Eolia. Many
had been his wanderings, by sea and land, since he had left his
own fair dwelling, and most welcome was the sight of this friendly
shore. Here lived the great King of the winds — ^Eolus — who
could send gentle zephyrs murmuring over the sea, and could call
back the wild tempests when they played too roughly with the
waves. Well might Odysseus and his companions rejoice at
coming to the wonderful floating island of King ^Eolus, for here
they were kindly treated, after their toils and troubles, and when
the time came for them to start once more on their way iEolus
stowed in their boat gifts and provisions of all kinds for their
voyage.

One of these gifts was very strange in its appearance — a great
bulging sack, as large as an ox; in fact it was made of an ox's
skin — tied tightly about with a cord of shining silver. This



("O l.V 'JHE child's would.



^Eolus placed carefully in the boat, and taking Odysseus aside
told him that in this skin he had bound uptiie blustering winds,
so that no storms should disturb the calm of the ocean, and drive
the little boat oat of her course. If, however, Odysseus should
at any time be in need of a powerful blast to carry the boat
swiftly away from some dangerous coast, or from some enemy,
he was to open the bag with great caution and, letting out only
the wind he wished, to close it again quickly, and bind it fast
with the silver cord. When^Eolus had bidden farewell to Odys-
seus and his crew, he sent a gentle west wind after them, to bear
them prosperously on their way.

Day after day they sailed peacefully over the gleaming ocean,
the soft gale bearing them along, while Odysseus managed the
sail, and kept watch night and day. On the tenth day Odysseus
was lying asleep in the boat, resting from his labors, when the
sailors began talking among themselves of the mysterious-look-
ing bag. "It must be full of treasures," said they, *' and why
should not we have our share of them?"

Speaking thus foolishly, they finally decided to open the bag.
They loosed the silver cord, but they needed to do no more, for
the boisterous winds at once burst forth, and in a twinkling had
lashed the quiet waves into foam, and whirled the boat far out of
her course. The helmsman could do nothing, since the boat no
longer obeyed the rudder, and even Odysseus, awakened by the
commotion, was powerless against these roaring, whistling winds
that tossed the little boat hither and thither at their will.

At last Odysseus and his men, driven far from their native
shores, saw land once again. The foolish sailors were glad enough
to pull the boat up on the beach, and in safety once more to
build their fire and i:)repare a comfortable meal.

Many days and years went by before Odysseus at last reached
his home. He had many adventures after this, but when he
dwelt in pe:ice and quiet at last, in the home from which he had
been absent so long, he was always fond of telling the story of
the bag of winds given him by King ^Eolus, and of the great
disaster brought upon his sailors and himself by their foolish
curiosity.

F. H.



IN THE child's WORLD. 71



THE NORTH WIND AT PLAY.

(From the German.)

Once upon a time, in a, house under a hill, lived ^Eolus and
his four sons: North Wind, South Wind, East Wind and
West Wind.

One day North Wind s.iid to iiis father: *' May I go out
to play?"

" Oh, yes I'' said his father, " if you don't stay too long."

Then away ran North Wind with a merry shout and song,
banging the door behind him.

As he ran along the road he saw in the orcliard a beautiful tree
upon which were green apples.

"OhI come and play with me," said North Wind. '•Come
and play with me ! "

"Oh, no!" said the tree; "I must stay q^uite still and help
the apples to grow, else they will not be large and round and red
in the autumn for the little children. Oh, no. North Wind, I
cannot go.''

" Puff!" said the North Wind— and down all the apples fell
to the ground.

The next thing North Wmd saw was a beautiful waving field
of corn.

" Oh! come and play with me! Oh! come and play witli me!"
said North Wind.

"No, no!" said the corn; "I must stand quite still and
grow. If you will look under this beautiful green silk you will
see some little kernels lying. These must grow big and yellow
to be ground into meal to make golden pudding for the children.
So you see I cannot go to play."

At this the North Wind sighed — " Ah-ha-a-a!" and the corn
lay down on the ground.

Running along. North Wind saw a lily growing under a
window.

'•' Oh, you lovely lily ! come and play with me," said North
Wind.

" I cannot," said the lily, gently; " I have to stay here because
the farmer's little girl is n6t at all well, and I am her friend, and



'^'Z IN THE child's world.



«very morning she comes and smiles down at me and I smile
back again. I am sure she would miss me very much if I should
go; so I must stay here, dear North Wind."

Xorth Wind touched her very gently, — but she hung her
head and never again looked up.

Now the farmer went out to work, and when he saw the corn
and the apple tree, he said: "Ahl Mr. North Wind has been
here!'' But when he went home, his little girl told him about
the lily. And the farmer said: " I'll go right up to Mr. ^Eolus
and tell him all about iti"

So away he went; and he said: '' Good morning, Mr. ^Eolus.
Your boy. North Wind, has been down my way; and he has
blown the apples from the trees, and the corn is lying down on
the ground; but, worse than this, he has hurt my little girl's
lily!"

"Ah!" said Mr. -iEolus, ''I am very sorry. I will speak to
North Wind when he comes in." And then the farmer went
home.

By and by in came North Wind.

" My boy," said J^^olus, " the farmer has been here, and he
has told me all the harm which you have done." And tlien tlie
father told North Wind the story of the apples and the corn and
the lily.

" Oh, well," said North Wind, " I know I did it; but I didn't
mean to. I just meant to have a little fun with the apple tree;
but when I said ' Puif-f-f ' all the apples fell down! And it was
just the same with the corn; it lay down before I knew that I
had hurt it. As for the lily, that was the loveliest thing you
ever saw, father; I only kissed it when I came away."

" I believe that what you tell me is true, my boy; but if you
cannot help being so rough and rude when you play, you must
go out only when the farmer has gathered the apples and corn,
and when the flowers have been taken safely into the house.
When the snow is on the ground, you and Jack Frost may have
fine frolics together."

As told by Harriet Ryan.



THE PIGEONS.



To THE Teachek: —

In " Birds of America" — Audubon's wonderful book — may be found
detailed descriptions of all the doves and pigeons known. Much of this
detailed description does not concern us; but I have gleaned a few facts
which may not be too familiar to us all.

The pigeon or dove almost invariably builds a loose, exposed nest, out
of which eggs and birds often drop. Many pigeons will build nests in
the same tree; doves will not. This seems to be the only difference noted
between pigeons and doves.

Some doves are found only in the tropics. The Carolina dove is found
from Louisiana to Middle Massachusetts; while the Passenger pigeon
lives everywhere in the United States except the southern tip of Florida,
and is well known in Newfoundland.

The average speed of the Passenger pigeon is a mile a minute; and it
has equally remarkable power of vision, as shown by its sighting food
from immense distances.

From fifty to one hundred or more nests are often found in one tree.

Audubon says that the constancy and devotion of the dove to its mate
and its young are not excelled by any other creatures; so that we rightly
use this beautiful bird as the emblem of love and gentleness.



THE TALK.

(Points of connection between this subject and the preceding
ones of " The AVind " and " Seeds " will readily suggest them-
selves. The farmer has gathered the seeds from the farm and
garden, the wind has taken them from the trees and plants in
other places. Cold weather is coming; so the birds have, most
of them, flown away to warmer countries where they can find
food in plenty.)

Have the children seen any birds lately, — canaries, sparrows,
pigeons?



74 IN Tlili; CIJII.U'S WOKLD.




Where do pigeous live? Wild ones in the woods; build very
loose nests — (show with hands); tame ones in a pigeon house in
the top of the barn; sometimes on a pole in the farmyard.

The pigeon lays two pure white eggs. Can tly far and fast —
a mile a minute.

How does it sleep? Roosts on a branch, if wild; on a stick in
pigeon house, if tame. Why does it not fall ofE ? Toes hold it
firmly. Find out how many toes in front; how
many behind. Watch the pigeons on the street, or
ask father or mother about it. (Play the game of
tlie Pigeon House and talk it over.) When we let
the pigeons out of the pigeon house, Avhere do you think they
will fly? Where does the song say they will fly? Will they find
something to eat? Yes; what the farmer has not gathered, and
what the wind has dropped and not covered up — especially seeds
of grains.

What do you think they talk to each other about when they
go home again? (Try to give the children the idea of sharing
experiences.)

What does the pigeon say? "Coo, cool "

A louii noise? No; always soft and gentle.

Do we love to hear the pigeons? Do we love to hear people
speak gently?

Whenever we see the pigeons, or play "The Pigeon House,'*
let us remember how gentle and loving these little birds are.

VERSE FOR CHILDREN.

Happy as a robin,
Gentle as a dove —
That's the sort of little child
Every one will love.




The Pigeox House.



76 IN THE child's "WORLD.



TEACHER'S READING.

Daddy Darwin's Dove Cote, . . . . Mrs. Ewing

Hilda and the Doves ("Marble Faun "), - - - Uawthorne

The Doves, - - - - Mrs. Broioniniy

The Belfry Pigeon, N. P. Willi.'i

The White Pigeon, - - - Miss Edgeicorth

FOR THE CHILDREN".
Birds and their Nests. From "Kindergarten Gems."



STORIES.

THE FANTAIL PIGEON.

*'I "wonder Avhy I am not "wise !" said the little "vyhite fantail
pigeon, sadly. " It seems to me I am not good for anything at
all. The hens lay eggs for our mistress's breakfast; the cows give
milk to drink and to be made into butter and cheese; the turkey-
cock will be fatted for Christmas, he says, and will be served on
a big dish, with a string of sausages all round him; that will be
grand! The pigs will be made into pork, but I am good for
nothing. The thrush and the blackbird can sing beautifully,
and the owl is wiser than all the other birds. I cannot sing and
I am not at all wise. Ginger, the cat, catches the rats and mice;
Monarch, tlie dog, guards the house. But I cannot catch rats
and mice, and how could a pigeon keep guard?"

Poor little white pigeon I What was she to do? I am sure you
must feel sorry for her. It is so very sad to be of no use in the
world.

" I will go to the owl," said she. "He is the wisest of all the
birds. Perhaps he will teach me how to be of use."

The owl lived in a hollow tree behind the farmyard. All day
long he sat in his tree and blinked, for the sunshine hurt his eyes.
That was because he was so wise, the other birds said. But when



IN THE CHILD S WORLD.



the sun went down and the world grew dark and still the owl
came out from his hollow tree and flew about. He had a hooked
beak and his eyes were large and round; he looked very solemn
and severe, as was proper for the wisest of all the birds.

The white pigeon flew up to the hollow tree and bent her head
humbly before the owl. The wise old bird blinked twice, but
said nothing, because his words were so precious.

" Pray, sir," said the pigeon, " may I speak to you? "

The owl blinked ngain, which if it did not mean ''yes," at any
rate did not mean ''no."' So the pigeon went on: " Sir, you are
very wise and I am very foolish. I am very unhappy because I
know nothing and am good for nothing. Please, sir, will you
help me?"

The owl said nothing at all for a long time. The little white
pigeon sat on a bough and waited. She said to herself: " He is
slow, but that is certainly because he is so kind as to think very
hard about some way to help me."

So she waited patiently, long past the time when Jeggo gave
all the birds in the farmyard their supper.

Then the sun went down, and the owl opened his large, round
eyes and looked at the little whito pigeon.

" Now," said she, " he is going to speak; " and her heart beat
fast with hope and excitement.

"I am wise," said the owl; "you are foolish." Then he
waited so long that the little pigeon ventured to put him in mind
that he was speaking. " Yes, sir," said she; " what can I do?"

" You must make the best of it," said the owl, and spreading
his large, browny-white wings he flew away into the darkness,
calling out: " Too-whit, too-whoo."

" He has certainly much wisdom," said the little white pigeon.
' ' But I do not see what is the good of it, if he keeps it all for
himself like that. I want to know how to make the best of it."
And home she went again feeling sadder than ever.

Next day the little white pigeon was still very miserable, and
instead of flying down as usual when her mistress came into the
yard, she hid in a corner and hung her head. So the mistress
went away, feeling sad and anxious; for she thought one of her
pets was lost.



78 IN THE child's WORLD.

Now the old drake had a very kind heart, and watched over
all the animals in the farmyard. He knew that the little white
pigeon was unhappy, and made up his mind to find out what
was amiss, and set it right if possible. He was a clever old bird,
and had seen a deal of the world, for he was nearly three years
old.

He sent a message to the pigeon to say he wanted to see her,
and she came at once. No one ever thought of disobeying the
old drake.

** What is wrong with you, little pigeon?" said he, kindly.
" The sun shines; peas and Indian corn are plentiful, and you
are not moulting; yet for three days you have done nothing but
mope and look miserable. Come, now, and tell me what is the
matter."

*' I am of no use in the world," said the little pigeon, sadly.
" All the other birds and animals are good for something, but I
am good for nothing."

"Oh! silly bird," said the old drake. " How can you say you
are of no use in the world? Everything that is made is, and
must be, of some use in the world. Some are strong and can do
much work, like Short, the horse Avho draws the heavy cart.
Some have the gift of teaching others, and that is what they are
good for. Some have beautiful voices to listen to, and others
beautiful feathers to look at. It is true that the turkey is good
to eat and that the hen can lay eggs; it is true that the owl is
wise and the blackbird can sing; but which of them all has such
a pretty white tail and such nice pink feet as you?"

" I forgot all about my tail," said the little pigeon.

"Just so," said the old drake. "You forgot what you had,
in fretting for what you had not. Nay, you even neglected
your gift and let your pretty Avhite tail get all dirty and
crumpled. So it happened that our mistress went away sad this
morning, because her little white bird did not come to greet her.
Go away home, little pigeon, and do not be miserable any more.
Make the best of what you can do, and never mind the things
you cannot do."

Then the little pigeon thanked the old. drake for his good
advice. She went home and put her feathers tidy, and I need



IN THE child's WORLD. T9

hardly tell you that next day the mistress did not look in vain

for her pretty, white pet.

Mary Dendy.

'^Lesson Stories,''^ the Sunday School Association, London.



PEARL AND HER PIGEONS.

When Pearl was seven years old her brother Freddie gave her
two pretty white pigeons. The little girl was as happy as a queen
when she saw her pretty pets. She named one Dot and the other
Phil. Pearl loved dearly to jilay with them, but she did not like
to keep them shut up in a cage.

Sometimes she would open the window and say to them: '' Fly
away, my dearies, and phiy with other birds! I do not wish to
keep you here this beautiful morning." They would flutter their
wings joyously, peck her hand, and make a funny little noise
which sounded very much like "good-bye, sweet mistress! We
will return soon, and tell you all about the sunny world, and what
the birds are doing."

When Pearl want out into the garden to pull flowers, or give



Online LibraryEmilie PoulssonIn the child's world; morning talks and stories for kindergartens, primary schools and homes → online text (page 5 of 29)