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Page 79
Christmas will not be here when you first get the December magazine, I
know, but ST. NICHOLAS likes to get a good start. He has Dutch blood in
his veins, and he knows well that in Holland St. Nicholas' Day comes on
the 6th of December.
So, just think of the dear Dutch youngsters, and what a happy holiday
they keep on the 6th,--for that is their season of gift-giving,--and
when the 25th comes to you, with its holy, beautiful light, and its
home joys, you'll be all the more ready to give it welcome.
Now for
A WINDFALL.
Here is a copy of a printed scrap thrown to me by a high wind the other
day. It isn't of very much use to a Jack-in-the-Pulpit; so I hand it
over to you, my chicks. It strikes me that it has the gist of some of
Deacon Green's remarks, and that somehow it doesn't come under the head
of what is called "pernicious reading":
"GOOD ADVICE FOR THE YOUNG.--Avoid all boastings and exaggerations,
backbiting, abuse, and evil speaking; slang phrases and oaths in
conversation; depreciate no man's qualities, and accept
hospitalities of the humblest kind in a hearty and appreciative
manner; avoid giving offense, and if you do offend, have the
manliness to apologize; infuse as much elegance as possible into
your thoughts as well as your actions; and, as you avoid
vulgarities, you will increase the enjoyment of life, and grow in
the respect of others."
KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES.
Here is a story which I heard a girl tell her little sister the other
day, but I don't believe the girl told it altogether right. Can any of
my youngsters straighten it out? This is the story:
King Alfred, after his fatal defeat at Marston Moor, having taken
refuge in an oak-tree, was so absorbed in watching a spider which had
tried to weave its web eleven times and succeeded on the twelfth, that
he allowed the cakes to burn; whereupon, the herdsman's wife, rushing
in, exclaimed:
"Oh, Diamond! Diamond! what mischief hast thou done?"
To which he meekly replied: "I cannot tell a lie; I did it with my
little hatchet."
"Take away," cried she, "that bauble!"
"I have done my duty, thank heaven!" said he, but he never smiled
again.
A LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I should like to tell the Little
Schoolma'am about _our_ little schoolma'am.
She is a young lady of about twenty-one years, and looks too
delicate to govern such a school. But she does it; and though as
fond of fun as any of us at the right time, yet in school she
insists on attention to business, and will not tolerate idleness or
disobedience. She is very kind and gentle, but firm and decided,
and we all know that she means what she says, and must be obeyed
implicitly. She says she wants us to love and trust her as a
friend, and we do. Out of school she seems as young as we do, for
she is full of fun and likes us to have a good time. She tries to
make school pleasant to us, and a while ago she put a box on her
desk, and said, when we had any questions to ask, or complaints to
make, we might write them on a slip of paper and put it in that
box, which was locked and had a hole in the top. Sometimes she
answers the questions publicly, and sometimes she writes them and
puts them in the "letter-box." The scholar who has the best record
for a month keeps the key the next month, and once a week opens the
box and distributes the contents. It is quite an honor to be
"postmistress," but no one can have it two months at a time. She
lets us make suggestions if we think of any improvements in the
school, and sometimes adopts them. Another of her plans is to allow
five minutes at the end of each hour when we may whisper, but not
talk out loud. If we wish to speak to any one we can leave our seat
and walk to them, if they are not near to us. But any one who
whispers, or communicates in any way at any other time, forfeits
this chance. I forgot to say that we put notes to each other in the
letter-box. We do like our little schoolma'am so much!--Yours
truly,
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