Cinderella - - (read people like a book txt) 📗

the country, had to stay in the house all day.

 

When they went to bed it was still snowing, and every time they

woke up during the night, they could hear the wind sighing and

whistling around the house, and through he branches of the old

pine tres.

 

But the next morning the sun was shining brightly. Such a

glorious day! How the branches of the pine trees did sparkle.

 

“It looks as if they had been sprinkled with gold dust and

diamonds,” exclaimed Ralph.

 

“Oh Grandma! Please do hurry breakfast. We are going out to

build a fort,” cried the boys, bursting into the dining-room.

 

Grandma smiled and told them to eat a good breakfast, for

building a fort was hard work.

 

They were soon out in the snow, and what a splendid time they

did have.

 

The fort did not grow very fast, for they had to stop so often to

snow-ball each other.

 

When Grandma called them in to dinner they wondered where the

time had gone since breakfast.

 

After dinner, Ralph was looking out of the window, when he spied

two little birds cuddled up on a branch of a pine-tree.

 

“Oh, Edward! come here,” he called. “See those poor little

birds. They look half frozen and so hungry.”

 

“Poor little things,” replied Edward. “Doesn’t it make you feel

mean to think what a jolly time we had this morning out of the

snow which has covered up the places where they get their food?”

 

“Let us get some food from Grandma and throw it out to them,”

said Ralph. “Perhaps they will find it.”

 

The little birds were soon chirpping and flying about merrily and

Ralph said it sounded as if they kept saying, “thank you.”

 

Will not other little children be as kind as Ralph and Edward?

 

A KIND HEART.

 

The day Ethel Brown was seven years old she had a tea party.

 

Mrs. Brown had sent tiny cards of invitation to all the little

girls on the street to come and bring their dolls. She also sent

one to Nellie Day, her washer-woman’s little girl, at Ethel’s

special request.

 

“She is a nice little girl,” said Ethel, “and doesn’t ever go

anywhere like me. May I have her at my party?”

 

“That is right, little daughter,” said Mrs. Brown. “Always be

kind to those who have less pleasure than yourself. Of course she

may come to your party.”

 

They all arrived at four o’clock and looked very pretty in their

white dresses and bright ribbons, and the dolls looked nearly as

pretty as the little girls themselves.

 

Ethel noticed that Nellie Day did not have a doll with her. “So,

thought she, “I will ask her to pour the tea and then she won’t

feel bad because she hasn’t one.”

 

The little girls talked and played games and Ethel’s grown up

sister played on the piano and then they sang.

 

“Now,” said Mrs. Brown, coming into the room, “if you will choose

partners, Florence will play for you and you can march out to

tea.”

 

During the confusion Ethel said to her mamma, “I shall ask Nellie

to pour the tea because she has not any doll.”

 

“Very well, dear,” answered Mrs. Brown.

 

But when they turned to find her, she was not with the others.

 

“Where can she be?” exclaimed Ethel.

 

And then began the search. Tea was delayed and they hunted the

house over for her. Finally Mrs. Brown went out on a side porch

seldom used, and there she found the little girl.

 

The child had brought a cushion to sit on, and clasped tightly in

her arms were three of Ethel’s dolls. Mrs. Brown persuaded her

to come in with the promise that she might keep the dolls.

 

So Ethel rang the bell, and they all marched in to tea again,

with Nellie Day leading the line, holding her three dollies.

 

“Mamma,” said Ethel, as the little girls were going home, “may I

give Nellie Day the dolls? I have so many and she has not one.”

 

“Yes indeed replied Mrs. Brown, as she kissed her little

daughter. “I am sure it will make her very happy.”

 

And Nellie Day went home that night, the happiest little girl in

the town.

 

TOWSER TALKS.

 

I am not a big dog and I don’t know very much, but I know more

than I used to. The reason why I know more than I used to is

because I asked Carlo some questions once. I asked him what made

him so gaunt and thin and why he had such an enquiring expression

on his face and such a hump on the top of his head. He didn’t

answer right away, and—I noticed the enquiring expression

vanished. He looked quite decided. Then something happened,—I

don’t know exactly what, but Mary, the cook, told the butler that

it made her dizzy just to look on. And then Carlo said:—

 

“One reason why I am gaunt and thin is because I am not a little

up-start of a pug,—of no earthly use under Heaven, and nothing

to do but waddle around and accumulate fat.

 

“The reason I have an enquiring expression on my face is because

I am ever on the outlook to anticipate my master’s will and do

his slightest bidding.

 

“As for the hump on the top of my head, that is a mark given by

the Creator only to dogs that have intellect. Pray that yours may

grow!”

 

That is all he said, but it was enough for one day and has

furnished me food for thought ever since.

 

JUST AS SHE PLEASED.

 

“Now, children, I am tired of you; I am going down stairs for the

rest of the morning,” and Polly started to leave the nursery.

 

“Put your dolls away before you go,” said Nurse, “I don’t want

them left in the middle of the floor.”

 

“I won’t. I did not put them there.” Polly tossed her head and

ran quickly out of the room.

 

Nurse had baby in her lap and could not run after her.

 

The little girl went to the kitchen, but cook was cross and said

she would not have Polly bothering her.

 

Then she went to the library hoping to find her Uncle Edward, but

he was not there.

 

She wandered from room to room and could find nothing to amuse

her.

 

She wanted to go back into the nursery, but she had told a lie

when she said she had not put the dolls on the floor, and she was

afraid to.

 

She felt lonesome and a few tears ran down her face.

 

At that moment Uncle Edward entered the room, and, seeing the

doleful little face, took her in his arms, tossing her into the

air.

 

As he did so, he knocked over a vase which fell to the floor,

broken.

 

“Oh! see what you have done,” cried Polly.

 

“I don’t care. I sball say I didn’t do it,” replied Uncle Edward.

 

“Oh! But that would be a lie,” said Polly.

 

“Well, who put the dolls on the nursery floor?”

 

“Nurse must have told you. But I am sorry,” and Polly began to

cry again.

 

“There, there!” said Uncle Edward. “We will go up and tell Nurse

we are sorry.”

 

They went up to the nursery but Nurse and baby had gone and the

dolls were still on the floor.

 

Polly wanted to play circus and Uncle Edward made believe he was

the elephant and gave the dollies a ride. He kicked so once that

black Diana fell off and broke her neck.

 

After a while Nurse came in with baby and interrupted the frolic.

 

When Polly told her she was sorry because she had told a lie,

Nursie said she would forgive her and Polly promised not to do

so again.

 

THE WORKING TOOLS OF INSECTS.

 

I wonder if you know that the smallest insects you see about you

have tools given them to do their work with. There is a little

fly called a saw-fly, because it has a saw to work with. It is

really a very much nicer saw than you could make, if you were

ever so old.

 

The fly uses it to make places where the eggs will be safe. What

is more strange, it has a sort of homemade glue which fastens

them where they are laid.

 

Some insects have cutting instruments that work just as your

scissors do. The poppy-bee is one of them, whose work is

wonderful. This bee has a boring tool, too. Its nest is usually

made in old wood. This borer cleans out the nest ready for use.

When all is ready the insect cuts out pieces of leaves to line

the nest and to make the cells. These linings are out in the

shape of the cells. You, would be surprised to see the care taken

to have every piece of just the right size, so that it will fit.

When they are. fitted, the pieces are nicely fastened together

and put into the nest.

 

End of the Project Gutenberg etext of Cinderella.