Scold, wind, scold!

So bitter and so bold!

Shake the windows with your tap, tap, tap!

With half-shut, dreamy eyes The drowsy baby lies Cuddled closely in his mother's lap.

--MARY F. b.u.t.tS.

HOPE'S DOLL

It was Sat.u.r.day morning. Elizabeth Brown sat by a window in the big kitchen making a pink dress for little Hope's doll.

On the chair beside her lay the doll, though you might not have thought of calling it one. It did not have curly hair--nor eyes that open and shut. In those days no child had toys like ours. Hope's doll was made of a corncob; the face was painted on a piece of linen stretched over a ball of wool on the end of the cob.

Little Hope was taking her morning nap. When Elizabeth had sewed the last neat st.i.tches, she dressed the doll and laid it on the bed by the little girl. How happy Hope was when she awoke and saw it! She thought it the most beautiful doll in the world.

"What will you call your doll, Hope?" asked Elizabeth.

"I will name her for mother," said Hope. "I will call her Mary Ellen."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hope and her doll]

Hope played all the afternoon with her doll and was very happy. When the sunset gun sounded, she had to stop playing. With the Puritans, the Sabbath began at sunset, and no child could play after the gun was heard.

The little maid kissed her baby and went into the bedroom to find a warm place for it to stay until the next evening. There lay father's Sunday coat; what warmer nest could she find for Mary Ellen than its big pocket?

After breakfast the next day, every one got ready to go to meeting.

Master Brown filled the little tin foot stove with hot coals from the hearth; then he took his gun from its hook. In those days no man went anywhere without his gun--not even to church, for the Indians were likely to come at any time.

Sometimes the firing of a gun was the call to worship. More often a big drum, beaten on the steps of the meeting house, told the people it was time to come together.

At the sound of the drum, Master Brown and his wife, with Elizabeth and Hope, started to church. From every house in the village came men, women, and children. They were always ready when the drum began to beat, for no one was ever late to meeting in those days.

Master Brown led his family to their pew and opened a little door to let them in. The pew was very much like a large box with seats around the sides.

The church was cold, for there was no fire. The children warmed their fingers and toes by the queer little foot stove their father had brought from home.

When every one was seated, the minister climbed the steps to his high pulpit. The sermon was always very long--three hours at least. The children could not understand what it was all about, and it was very hard for them to sit still and listen quietly.

Elizabeth was four years older than Hope, so she felt quite like a little woman. She sat up beside her mother and looked at the minister almost all the time; but sometimes she had to wink hard to keep awake.

When she thought she could not let her feet hang down another minute, she would slip down to the footstool to rest.

Elizabeth was often ashamed of Hope, who could not sit still ten minutes. She tried to listen to the sermon, but could not. When she began to stir about a little, her mother shook her head at her. She sat still for a few minutes, but was soon restless again.

Presently she began to be sleepy and laid her head upon her father's arm for a nap. Just then she felt something in his pocket. A happy smile came over Hope's face; she was wide-awake now. Slipping her hand into the wide pocket, she drew out Mary Ellen and smoothed her wrinkled gown.

Master Brown's thoughts were all on the sermon, and even Mistress Brown did not notice Hope for a little time. When she did, what do you suppose she saw? Hope was standing on the seat showing her doll to the little girl in the pew behind her.

Oh, how ashamed her mother was! She pulled her little daughter down quickly and whispered, "Do you want the t.i.thingman to come? Well, sit down and listen." Taking Mary Ellen, she slipped the doll into her m.u.f.f.

Little Hope did sit down and listen. She did not even turn around when the kind lady behind them dropped a peppermint over the high-backed pew for her. She was very much afraid of the t.i.thingman, who sat on a high seat. He had a long rod with a hard k.n.o.b on one end and a squirrel's tail on the other.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The t.i.thingman tickling the nodding lady]

When he saw a lady nodding during the sermon, he stepped around to her pew and tickled her face with the fur end of the rod. She would waken with a start and be, oh! so ashamed. She would be very glad the pew had such high sides to hide her blushing face.

Perhaps you think the boys who sat on the other side of the church had a good time. But there was the t.i.thingman again. When he saw a boy whispering or playing, he rapped him on the head with the k.n.o.b end of the rod. The whispering would stop at once, for the rod often brought tears and left a headache.

Besides keeping the boys from playing and the grown people from going to sleep, the t.i.thingman must turn the hourgla.s.s. In those days very few people could afford clocks, but every one had an hourgla.s.s. It took the fine sand just one hour to pour from the upper part of the gla.s.s into the lower part.

When the sand had all run through, the t.i.thingman turned the gla.s.s over and the sand began to tell another hour. The gla.s.s was always turned three times before the minister closed the service. Then the men picked up their muskets and foot stoves, the women wrapped their long capes closely about them, and all went home.

At sunset the Puritan Sabbath ended. The women brought out their knitting and spinning, or prepared for Monday's washing, and the children were free to play until bedtime.

--MARGARET PUMPHREY.

NAHUM PRINCE

More than a hundred years ago, our country was at war with England.

George Washington was at the head of our army. As you know, he and his men were fighting for our country's freedom.

The English army was larger than our army, and General Washington needed all the men he could get. The regular troops were with him.

In one little town in Vermont all the strong, able-bodied men had gone to the front. News came that the English and the Americans were about to meet in battle. The Americans needed more men and called for volunteers.

Old men with white hair and long beards volunteered. Young boys with smooth cheeks and unshaven lips volunteered. There wasn't a boy in the village over thirteen years of age who didn't volunteer.

Even lame Nahum Prince offered himself. He brought out his grandfather's old gun and got in line with the others. He stood as straight and tall as he could--as a soldier should stand.

Soon the captain came along the line to inspect the volunteers. When he saw Nahum, he said, "No, no, Nahum, you cannot go; you know you cannot.

Why, you could not walk a mile. Go home, my lad."

Just then the good old minister came by. "Yes, Nahum," he said, "you must stay at home. Who knows but that you will find a greater work to do for your country right here?"

And lame Nahum dropped out of the line.

Then the volunteers marched off, every man and boy in the village except Nahum Prince. Poor Nahum! His heart was heavy.

"What can I do for my country in this small village?" he said to himself. "Oh, I wish I could be a soldier!"

He walked toward his home slowly and sadly. Just as he pa.s.sed the blacksmith shop, three horseman galloped up to the door.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The horseman speaks to Nahum]