Boys and Girls Bookshelf; a Practical Plan of Character Building, Volume I (of 17) Fun and Thought for Little Folk

Chapter VIII

The woods held their breath as little Charlie looked up at his father, lip trembling. The net held a rabbit mother, her baby, and a squirrel who had tried to help. “I couldn’t eat ’em for dinner, Daddy,” Charlie pleaded. “Not the mama rabbit and the little one she tried to save. Nor the dear little squirrel that wanted to help them. Let’s—let’s—let ’em go!”

The man smiled at his son’s eager face. “What will Mama say when we go back without any dinner?” “She’ll say a good deed is better than a good dinner,” Charlie replied. The man caressed the curly head and handed him the net. Charlie opened it wide, and the prisoners gasped, darted through the meshes, and vanished into the bushes. Father and son walked silently home.

In his burrow, Chatter Chuk the squirrel trembled at his peril and vowed to keep away from old Juggerjook. His mother, Fuzzy Wuz, nestled close and wondered why the fierce Men had spared them. “Men are curious creatures,” she said, “and often act with more wisdom than we give them credit for.”

The Little Gray Kitten

A little gray kitten wandered far from home, lonely for her siblings. The only word she knew was “Mew”—understood at home, meaningless abroad. She asked an earthworm (who crawled away), a butterfly (who flew off), a robin (who chirped and spread his wings), a black dog (whose bark sent her fleeing), and a red cow (whose “Moo, moo-oo!” sent her over a fence into a flower-bed). There a smiling little girl ran up, the only one who understood. She caught the fluffy kitten: “I’m going to take you right home to live with me.” The kitten purred—she had found a home.

Pussy’s Wheels

Annie W. McCullough wondered what her darling cat might think about—meat, cream, the barn-loft, mice, trees, grass, or her sliding ball. “I hope you think of me, sometimes, because I love you well. / And how I know you’re thinking (it’s a secret that I’ve found), / Is ’cause I hear, close to my ear, your thought-wheels going round.”

The Small Gray Mouse

Nathan Haskell Dole told of a small gray mouse that ran East, West, North, South, fleeing the kitten’s dreadful teeth. The kitten thought it fun, batting the panting mouse back whenever it nearly escaped. But she grew vain—turned her head, shut her eyes—and the mouse shot up the chimney beyond pursuit. She had nothing left but “miew—oo—oo—oo!”

The Rabbit, the Turtle, and the Owl

A little girl and boy stood in the corn-field, with shocks like wigwams and yellow pumpkins on the ground. The Turtle had climbed from the brook, the Rabbit sat on the slope with ears upright, and the sleepy Owl stirred behind his knot-hole. The children planned a Thanksgiving dinner with a pumpkin table at the Owl’s tree and three pumpkin stools: parsley for the Rabbit, a mushroom for the Turtle, bread for the Owl. Returning by moonlight from their grandmother’s, they watched the rabbit eating parsley ears-up, the turtle stretching from his shell to nibble, and the owl eating bread. “Oh, isn’t it beautiful!” “Beautiful!” they whispered.

Homes

Annie Willis McCullough wrote of cozy houses for bunnies, slatted coops for chickens, basket beds for kittens, and cellar boxes for puppies—but hers was the nicest home of all, with sunny windows, a porch, stairs, and a warm kitchen where Dinah cooked.

The Fine Good Show

Jessie Wright Whitcomb’s tale followed a little girl and boy down the road, gathering a parade: a dog (“Bow-wow!”), a cat (“Miaouw!”), a rooster (“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”), a duck (“Quack, quack!”), and a curly-tailed pinky-white pig (“Grunt, grunt!”). At a pasture they found an old red cow who couldn’t open the bars; the children lowered them and the procession clambered aboard. Two women in a carriage cried “What’s this?”—a fine, good show, the girl replied. Three men in a wagon called it “great!” At a store they spent their silver on feed for each animal and long candy for themselves. Then they raised the bars, bade farewell in animal calls, and ran home.