The Project Gutenberg eBook of Shining Hours, by Anonymous This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Shining Hours Author: Anonymous Release Date: January 30, 2021 [eBook #64422] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHINING HOURS *** Shining Hours Shining Hours COME AND PLAY. COME AND PLAY! Play-ful kit-tens! see them spring-ing Light-ly up my fa-vor-ite tree; Now they spy the ham-mock swing-ing— In they scram-ble-one, two, three. For a while they sit de-mure-ly, In a dain-ty fluffy row, Then they gaze a-bout—why sure-ly, There stands pa-tient Spot be-low. “Come!” I fan-cy they are say-ing; “See, it is not far to climb: ’Mid the branch-es i-dly sway-ing, We are hav-ing such a time! “You shall have a wel-come hear-ty Here with-in the leaf-y shade. What! you will not join our par-ty? Sil-ly pup, you are a-fraid!” But a meek re-proach is ly-ing In those eyes so brown and large; One can al-most hear him cry-ing, “I have mas-ter’s stick in charge!” Pret-ty, mirth-ful, sau-cy crea-tures— Let them play their mer-ry part! How can their light kit-ten-na-tures Un-der-stand his faith-ful heart? That night Edith insisted on taking the old idol to bed with her as of old. Aunt Bell over-heard her talking to it. “I love you bushels. You are the beautifulest dolly in all the world. And I don’t care if you haven’t dot two arms, and fine clothes, and a parasol. You’ve dot me, and I’ve dot you, and we’ll just do on loving each other. Dat new dolly can sit in the parlor, but you’se my every day chum.” Edith showed the new dolly to all her friends, but wouldn’t play with it for many days. Like a genuine little woman, she wanted to be loyal to her first love. IN THE MEADOW. Little girlie in the meadow, Do you love to pick the flowers? Do you love to sing and chatter, Through the bright and sunny hours? Pretty maiden in the meadow, Do you love to dream and sigh? Do you love to build bright castles In the air, yet know not why? Kind old doggie in the meadow, Do you love to laze and think? Do you love to catch the snappers, While at them you wink and blink? Little girlie, pretty maiden, Kind old doggie—three good friends— Love the sunshine, dreams, and flowers, All joy that summer days attends. T A PUZZLED CAT. eheran, the Persian cat, was dozing on a rug in the hall. Suddenly her hair stood on end, and her tail grew large. What-ever was that thing coming down-stairs? She had opened her eyes just in time to see at the head of the long flight of stairs some strange animal, with great eyes and long sharp teeth. To her horror, it slid quickly down stairs, directly toward her. It did not take her long to run from the mat and dodge the fierce-looking animal. She turned to look, and there lay the four footed beast, just where she had lain. What could he be, and what was he doing in that house? There he lay quietly. Could he be asleep? Pussy-like, she crawled toward him, ready to spring if he stirred. She walked round him with her back up. No, he wasn’t asleep. His eyes were wide open. Was he lying in wait, ready to spring at her? Round and round him she walked. Not an ear did he raise, not a whisker did he twitch, not an eyelid did he wink. What a curious fellow! Had he died of heart disease coming down-stairs so fast? Her eyes opened wider. She pricked up her ears to listen. Not a breath could she hear. Poor fellow, he must be dead. She grew bolder. She played with his paws, and she pulled his tail. She brushed by his side. How queer! No fat, no bones! She put one paw on his back, two paws, three paws, all four paws. How flat! no heart, no stomach, no insides at all. She sat down on him to think. What was he? Many a day she thought about him; many a time she played with him; many an hour she watched him. But a puzzled cat she always remained. T ON THE BEACH. his little girl has come with her mamma from the noisy city, Paris. She has a shrimping net in her hand, and thinks she can catch shrimps. The fish-wife is surprised to see a little girl in such fine clothes on the beach. The little girl is curious about the fish-wife. Do you wish to know what they are talking about? Listen! “Êtes vous de Paris?” “Oui.” “Combien y a-t-il de temps que vous êtes ici?” “Il n’y a que trois jours.” Do you understand? You do if you are studying French. They both talk French although they are dressed so differently. The little girl is very much interested in the funny dress of the fish-wife. The fish-wife is very much pleased with the pretty dress of the little girl. She says under her breath “Qu’elle est jolie!” They look each other over from top to toe, and talk awhile. Then the fish-wife goes back to her work. The little girl pokes the shrimping-net into the water and tries to catch the shrimps. D DOROTHY’S CALL. orothy was wandering about the house, wondering what to do. She strayed into Grandma’s room. On the bureau lay Grandmas’s cap. Dorothy tried it on, and thought she looked very like Grandma. There lay a pair of spectacles. She tried those on too. Suddenly a scheme came into her wise little head. She went to Grandmas’s closet, found one of her dress skirts, and put on that. Grandma was a short woman, and Dorothy was a pretty big girl for her age, still the skirt was a trifle long in front. Grandma didn’t wear short sleeves and high-necked aprons. Grandma’s black shawl was just the thing to cover them up, Dorothy thought, as she fastened it with Grandma’s big pin. DOROTHY. She walked quietly into the hall. Quietly, because she wasn’t sure that Grandma would be pleased. She couldn’t see through the spectacles. She clung to the bannisters, or down the whole flight of stairs she would have gone at one step. Shoving the glasses to the end of her nose, she went on her way. Around the corner lived a poor old lady that Grandma sometimes called on. Dorothy walked to her door and knocked. The old lady came to the door. “Good morning, Mrs. Johns!” said Dorothy. “Good morning,” answered Mrs. Johns, looking at her caller curiously. “Come in, wont you, and sit down? I don’t just recall you, though you do seem familiar.” “My name is Swinton,” said Dorothy. (So it was and so was her Grandmother's). “Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Swinton? You must excuse me for not knowing you. I’m getting hard o’hearing, and my eyes aren’t as good as they were once. And how are you?” “I have a little rheumatiz, and sometimes a ‘stick’ in my back,” answered Dorothy. “Your voice doesn’t sound natural, but perhaps it’s my ears. Does your throat trouble you?” “Oh no!” said Dorothy, growing nervous. “I guess I better be going.” “Going! Why you’ve just come.” But Dorothy hurried away, rather quickly for an old lady. “Well I never!” muttered Mrs. Johns. “She must be going out of her mind, she acted so queer. The rheumatiz must be in her brain. She walked too fast to have it in her legs.” Grandma was surprised to see Dorothy coming into the house, dressed in her clothes. She couldn’t help smiling while Dorothy told her all about her call. “And Grandma,” said Dorothy, “she didn’t find out that I was only myself, and not yourself at all!” F FIDO’S PUPPIES. ido was the proud mother of four puppies. They were born in a clothes basket. While they were very young they did not offer to leave their warm bed. They snuggled close to their mother, and when she went off for a walk they cuddled together. They soon became venturesome, like most dogs and boys. Two were particularly so. They jumped over- board to go on a tour of inspection, the mother’s sharp eyes following. The third, not quite so bold, just leaned over the edge of the basket. He leaned too far, and out he tumbled, and then tried to climb back. The fourth was too lazy to move, and kept under cover. Dear, big, old Colonel eyed curiously these fat, faltering, four-legged new-comers. And the new-comers eyed him. They sat in judgment over his tail as it lay on the ground. They never thought of its being a tail. They only knew one kind, like theirs and their mother’s. While they were thinking, the Colonel raised this bushy tail. It struck one under the jaw, making him turn a back somersault; it rolled the other puppy over. They were very much surprised, and waddled back to the basket as fast as their weak legs could carry them. The Colonel smiled. These two dogs grew bolder as they grew older. Once, when their mother was away, they went on another inspecting tour, taking the most timid puppy with them. They jumped up the front steps of their masters house. Seeing the front door open, they decided to call. They did not know that the proper way was to ring the bell and hand in cards. They simply walked in and found their way to the parlor. What fine curtains to roll on! What beautiful lace to tear! What gay cords and tassels to pull! Such a lark! That which attracted them most was a mat made of a wolf’s skin and head. At first they were afraid, but seeing he did not injure them, they pulled him about at a great rate. They were having such a good time, they made some noise. The maid surprised them, and stopped their little game by appearing with a whip. The puppies went out the front door faster than callers usually go; and they never so much as said good-afternoon. DOLLY’S LULLABY. Dolly darling, now don’t cry, Here’s your cradle right close by, In my arms you’ll safely keep, Close your eyes and go to sleep. THE BIRDIES. Dear little birdies, come in from the cold. Don’t be so ’fraid of us. Try to be bold. Doggie won’t hurt you; he loves little birds; He minds when I speak, for he understands words. Dear little birdies, come in for this bread. Why do you hop away, why turn your head? Here in my hand is the bread, all for you. Taste it, and see if my words are not true. Dear little birdies, come in from the snow. You will be frozen. Just hear the wind blow! Hop on the window-sill; hop right along; Eat of this bread, and then chirp us a song. Dear little birdies, come in or you’ll freeze. With snow in the garden, and ice on the trees, Surely you cannot, though trying your best, Find any breakfast or feather your nest. K THE HISTORY LESSON. ate was trying to learn her history lesson. She thought she never could learn the names of all the Presidents of the United States, and recite them in their order. Her eyes would stray to the story books. Her mind would wander to “Lady Constance,” who had her right hand cut off to save the life of her dear husband. And to Cinderella and her lost slipper. And to the Prince who found it and married her. In fact she could think of everything except the Presidents of the United States. While she was wasting her time, Cousin Anna came in to call. “What makes you look so cross, Kate?” Cousin Anna asked. “I can’t get my lesson,” lamented Kate. “What is your lesson about?” asked the cousin. “All the Presidents, and I get so mixed up.” “Have you the list in rhyme?” asked Anna. “No, Cousin Anna. I never saw it,” said Kate. “Oh, you must have that. It is so easy to learn. We used to learn the English Sovereigns in rhyme. I remember so well our reciting; ‘First William, the Norman, Then William, his son,’ “And so on. And now Mrs. Peter has put our Presidents in rhyme; ‘First Washington, then Adams, Next Jefferson we view; James Madison, Monroe, and then, John Adams’ son—John Q.’ “And so forth. Come home with me and I’ll get you her little book. She has the important events of each administration all in rhyme, too. For instance, under Grover Cleveland is: ‘Twas after twenty years and four A Democrat these honors wore; Cleveland his honest record made, Though people did not choose free trade,— Huge labor strikes and feuds arose, And earthquakes sealed sad Charleston’s woes.’ “Under ‘Benjamin Harrison,’ she has: ‘Year eighty-nine brought into view A kinsman of old Tip’canoe; Another Harrison is chief; And now—for good, or else for grief— The tariff and the silver bills, Divide the people’s votes and wills; And liquor traffic still defies The legislation of the wise.’ “Don’t you think you could learn this?” “Oh, yes! Cousin Anna,” exclaimed Kate. Cousin Anna gave the little book to Kate. Kate soon learned the six short verses, and so knew all the Presidents and in their order. She learned, too, all the events in rhyme. THE BABY AND TRAY. Tura, lura, lura lay, Dear little baby in dress array, Tura, lura, lura lay Dear little doggie looking gay. Tura, lura, lura lay, Dear little baby wants to play, Tura, lura, lura lay, Dear little doggie doesn’t say nay. Tura, lura, lura lay Dear little baby laughs at Tray; Tura, lura, lura lay Dear little doggie barks his say. Tura, lura, lura lay, Dear little baby googles “Stay!” Tura, lura, lura lay, Dear little doggie wags “Good-day!” T THE PROOF OF LOVE. heresa loves her cat very much. How do I know? Theresa was hungry. She asked for some milk. She sat down on the floor to enjoy it. Her dog sat down beside her. Frisky, her cat, smelling the milk came and sat in front of her. Frisky did not move her eyes away from Theresa and her milk. She looked and purred, and purred and looked. Theresa began to feel uncomfortable. She knew Frisky liked milk but so did she. She felt that Frisky was asking for some as well as she knew how. Her eyes seemed to say to Theresa, “I’m very fond of milk and I’d like some of yours very much indeed.” When the milk passed Theresa’s heart on its way to her stomach her heart said, “Frisky wants some too. Poor kittie!” Theresa put the bowl down and told Frisky to take a taste. Frisky put her little red tongue into the bowl and began tasting the milk. She kept on tasting the milk. She didn’t once lift up her head and offer to let Theresa have the rest. Theresa liked her cat so much she couldn’t bear to pull the bowl away. Frisky’s tongue went fast and so did the milk. Frisky lapped up every drop. She was only a cat and did not know she was selfish. Some tears came into Theresa’s eyes when she saw that the milk was all gone. She did not scold nor complain. Frisky purred, “Thank you.” Theresa took her in her arms and said, “Nice Frisky!” Wasn’t this a proof that Theresa loved her cat very much? “P “I CAN STIR IT!” lease cook, let me stir it.” “Och, no, Miss, you couldn’t,” said cook. Esther thought she could, but didn’t tease. A few hours later Esther came into the kitchen again. On the table was the same big bowl. In it was the same stuff that cook stirred. Cook was nowhere to be seen. In a jiffy Esther was on a chair with the spoon in her hand. “I can stir it,” she said to herself in triumph. It was easy enough. She stirred till she was tired. She had been back in the sitting-room awhile when the cook appeared in great distress. “Och, Mrs. Borden, me risins all shpiled; and it wasn’t rats for there’s a shpoon in it.” Mrs. Borden was going to say, who could it be, when she spied Esther’s face. It was very red. “Esther, child, did you disturb cook’s sponge for her bread?” asked Mrs. Borden. “Mamma, I didn’t see any sponges and bread,” answered Esther, “but I stirred something in a big bowl. Cook said I couldn’t. I tried, and I could stir it.” Mrs. Borden convinced Esther that it wasn’t wise to touch anything in the kitchen without cook’s permission. Esther told cook she was sorry she had made her so much trouble. THE ORPHANS. live was walking in the yard, when she heard a voice calling her to come in. She at once obeyed, and was told that a lady wished to see her in the parlor. This lady spoke to Olive very kindly, asking her if she would like to go to live with her. Olive, liking the lady’s face and manner, said she would. Olive had lived in this Orphan Asylum several years. She was a very sad-looking child, and no one had wished before to adopt her. This lady wished to make some poor child happy, and chose Olive because she seemed so forlorn. Promising to come for her in a few days, she kissed Olive good-bye. Martin was Olive’s brother, and lived in the Asylum too. Their mother died when they were very young. Irene, the eldest child, tried to help her father take care of the children and the house, but she was never very well. She grew weaker and weaker. She used to go off by herself to cry. She longed for her mother, and wished she could go to her. Her wish was granted, for she died too. The father couldn’t look after Martin and Olive, so he put them in the Orphan Asylum. It wasn’t very long before the father was taken ill, and had to go to a hospital, where he died. That left Martin and Olive without father or mother, or anybody in the wide world to love them. When Olive told Martin she was going away with a sweet lady, he threw up his arms and rushed down the garden quite wild-like. Martin was old enough to realize that his little sister was to be taken away from him, and he could never be with her any more. It nearly broke his heart even to think about it. Olive began to think too. They cried and they thought, they planned and they talked. Olive told the matron she couldn’t leave Martin, but the matron said she must. When the lady came for her, Olive cried very hard, and asked if she please couldn’t take Martin too, for he wouldn’t have any little sister at all if she went away. Martin came to say good-bye. He and Olive clung to each other. While they sobbed, the matron scolded and the lady pondered. Finally the lady asked the matron’s permission to take Martin for a few days’ visit. That stopped the crying and the scolding, and away the children went in great glee. Martin was such a quiet, good boy, and so happy to be with them, that the lady and her husband decided to keep both children. Neither they nor the children ever had any reason to regret it. Olive and Martin had had so little fun in their lives, had shed so many tears, and had known so much about trouble, that they were always grateful for everything done for them, and tried their best to do right. They were very unlike the children, who, while always being indulged and petted, are nevertheless discontented.