There were seven ducklings. The very first thing they did was to go and tumble into a bucket of water.

"Cluck-cluck-cluck! quaw-aw-awk! cr-r-r!" said the hen-mother. She was so frightened she made just such a noise as she does when she sees a hawk.

She thought they would all drown. But they didn't. They swam and dove and shook the water from their little wings.

One day when they were about a quarter grown, Annie found Fluffy-dumpty lying on the ground; she was quacking faintly. Her leg was broken! Annie ran to papa.

"O papa! mend her leg just as you did my arm!" she said.

Papa is a doctor; and when Annie was a _very_ little girl she broke her arm and papa mended it. So he did up Fluffy-dumpty's leg with a splinter, and then wound a bandage round it. Annie took care of her.

Mary used to help Annie feed her with a spoon.

Fluffy-dumpty got well very fast. But when she was about three quarters grown, she met with another accident. She fell down a steep cellar way.

"Quack-quack! Take me out! Oh, take me out!" cried poor Fluffy-dumpty.

The other six ducks crowded around and looked down at her.

"We can't! we can't!" they cried. "We haven't got any hands. Call a boy, do!" So Annie called Sam, who took her out.

How thankful Fluffy-dumpty was! She smoothed down her ruffled feathers and said, "Quack-quack," softly. The other ducks all talked at once.

"What a narrow 'scape you had, Fluffy-dumpty!" said one duck.

"How did you happen to fall into that horrid place?" asked another.

"What a fine boy Sam is!" said a third duck.

"He's almost too good for a boy," said a fourth.

But it all sounded as if they only said "quack-quack!"

Every day of their lives these ducks got into the garden, and ate the lettuce and strawberries and cabbage. So the gardener put a board over the hole under the gate.

"Never mind," said big Broad-bill, "we know more ways than one." Then the seven started off in a line, and marched round the garden till they came to another hole, and in they went. The gardener was very angry.

VICK IN TROUBLE.

Bertie had gone off and left Vick. He was so eager to see the soldiers parade that he forgot all about him. This had never happened before.

When Uncle Ned gave Vick to Bertie mamma said: "Now, Bertie, you must take the care of Vick. If a boy has a dog he must learn to care for him. You must see that Vick is fed. You must bathe and comb him every day; and you must give him plenty of exercise."

But as I said, Bertie had forgotten Vick that day. Vick did not know what to make of it. His heart was almost broken.

"This is too bad!" he howled. "Here am I shut up with two saucepans and a dummy. No water to drink--no bone to gnaw--no little master to play with--wow-ow-ow-ow!"

What a dismal howl it was! Mamma heard him; she was in the kitchen making sponge cake. She could not leave it for a moment. But as soon as it was baked she let Vick out.

There was Bertie just coming round the corner! He looked quite ashamed. Yes, he had thought of Vick at last. He had come home for him.

Did Vick forgive him? Doggies always forgive. They have loving and generous hearts. He scrambled all over Bertie and licked his hands and his face and off they went to see the soldiers--a very happy pair.

Do you think Bertie ever forgot Vick again?

Do you ever forget to care for your pets?

[Ill.u.s.tration: IT WAS FUN TO SEE THEM EAT.]

IN GRANDMA'S ATTIC.

Every summer grandma Cushing has two visitors. Their names are Blanche Cushing and Dorothy Cushing.

Blanche lives in Iowa. She has blue eyes and yellow hair and is seven years old. Dorothy lives in New York City. She has brown eyes and brown hair and is eight years old.

They love dearly to play in grandma's attic. There are queer old bonnets and gowns and c.o.c.ked hats hanging on the walls.

There are trunks full of caps and spectacles and old snuffers and no end of queer things.

I cannot begin to tell you everything the cousins play. But there is one thing they like to play ever so much.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLAYING IN GRANDMA'S ATTIC.]

They like to dress up in the queer old clothes and play Cinderella, and Mother Hubbard, and Red Riding Hood.

When Blanche gets on her great-great-grandma Cushing's cap and spectacles and long mits, she makes a very charming little Mother Hubbard.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A VERY CHARMING MOTHER HUBBARD.]

They sit in the big old chairs and tell stories. Dorothy likes to hear about the wolves. There are wolves where Blanche lives.

"Yes, one day when I was a very, _very_ little girl," said Blanche, "a horrid big wolf came up to the window and looked in. I was sitting in mamma's lap, and he put his paws on the window and just looked at us horrid!

"And then another time, mamma, you know, was going out to meet papa, and she saw a big wolf on the ground, and she thought it was dead, and she was going right up, and it wasn't dead a bit. It just got up and runned off to the woods, and mamma was awful scared and runned away too."

When Blanche tells the wolf stories they play "scared." It is fun to play "scared." They shriek and run and hide.

One rainy day they had been playing Mother Hubbard.

"Now," said Blanche, "I will tell a b-eautiful wolf story. It will make us awful scared. See if it doesn't!"

So she climbed up into a big chair and began. But right in the middle of the story they heard something go scratch, scratch, very loudly.