|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 21
Grandmother was almost crying herself, when a click at the gate made
them both start and, then look at each other; for there, coming up the
walk, was a great big boy with a torn straw hat, and with a small
wooden box in his hand, which made Lindsay scream with delight, for in
that box was a very miserable-looking mocking-bird.
"Guess it _is_ yours," said the boy, holding the box in front of him,
"for I trapped it out in the road back of here. I never thought of
mocking-birds being so much account, and I hated to make him cry."
"There now," cried Lindsay, jumping up to get the silver quarter out of
his pocket. "He is just like Mrs. Wasp, isn't he, Grandmother?" But the
boy had gone down the walk and over the gate without waiting for
anything, although Lindsay ran after him and called.
Lindsay and Grandmother were so excited that they did not know what to
do. They looked out of the gate after the boy, then at each other, and
then at the bird.
Lindsay ran to get the hatchet, but he was so excited with joy that he
could not use it, so Grandmother had to pry up the slats, one by one;
and every time one was lifted, Lindsay would jump up and down and clap
his hands, and say, "Oh, Grandmother!"
At last, the very last slat was raised; and then, in a moment, the
mocking bird flew up, up, up into the maple tree, and Lindsay and
Grandmother kissed each other for joy.
Oh! everything was glad in the garden. The breezes played pranks, and
blew the syringa petals to the ground, and up in the tallest trees the
birds had a concert. Orioles, bluebirds, and thrushes, chattering jays,
sleek brown sparrows, and red-capped woodpeckers, were all of them
singing for Grandmother and Lindsay; but the sweetest singer was the
mocking bird who was singing everybody's sweet song, and then his own,
which was the sweetest of all.
"I know he is glad," Lindsay said to Grandmother; "for it is, oh, so
beautiful to live inside your garden gate!"
_THE JOURNEY_
MOTTO FOR THE MOTHER
_The whirling wheels, that help us on our way,
A lesson to the children, too, will say:
"Go on! there's work awaiting you to-day;
The whole world moves apace, you must not stay_."
A little boy, named Joseph, went with his papa, once upon a time, to
visit his Grandma. Grandma was an old, old lady, with hair as white as
drifted snow; and she petted Joseph's papa almost as much as she did
Joseph, for Papa had been her baby long, long before.
It was a fine thing to go to see Grandma; and Joseph would have been
willing to stay a long time, if it had not been that Mamma and the baby
and big brother were at home.
He knew they needed him there, too, for Mamma wrote it in a letter.
"Dear Papa," she said, in the letter that the stage coach brought, "When
are you, and my precious Joseph coming home? The baby and Brother and I
are well but we want to see you. We need a little boy here who can hunt
hens' nests and feed chickens, and rock the baby's cradle. Please bring
one home with you."
This made Joseph laugh for, of course, Mamma meant him; and though he
forgot some of her letter, he always remembered that; and when Papa
said; "Look here, Joseph, we must go home," he was just as glad to go,
as he had been to come to see Grandma.
Now Joseph and his papa had to travel by stage coach, because there were
no trains in those days; and after they had told Grandma goodbye, on the
morning they left, they went down to the inn to wait for the stage.
The inn was the place where travelers who were away from home might stop
and rest, and the landlady tried to be always pleasant and make
everybody feel at home; so she hurried out on the porch, with two chairs
for Joseph and his papa, as soon as she saw them.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|