Books: Mother Goose in Prose
L >>
L. Frank Baum >> Mother Goose in Prose
Pages:
1 | 2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10
"You shall be our shepherd," she said, pleasantly, "and keep the sheep
out of the meadows and the cows from getting in to the corn. You know,
father," she continued, turning to the Squire, "it was only yesterday
you said you must get a boy to tend the sheep, and this little boy can
do it nicely."
"Very well," replied the Squire, "it shall be as you say, and if he is
attentive and watchful he will be able to save me a good bit of
trouble and so really earn his money."
Then he turned to the child and said,
"Come to me in the morning, my little man, and I will give you a
silver horn to blow, that you may call the sheep and the cows whenever
they go astray. What is your name?"
"Oh, never mind his name, papa!" broke in the Squire's daughter; "I
shall call him Little Boy Blue, since he is dressed in blue from head
to foot, and his dress but matches his eyes. And you must give him a
good wage, also, for surely no Squire before ever had a prettier
shepherd boy than this."
"Very good," said the Squire, cheerfully, as he pinched his daughter's
rosy cheek; "be watchful, Little Boy Blue, and you shall be well
paid."
Then Little Boy Blue thanked them both very sweetly and ran back over
the hill and into the valley where his home lay nestled by the
riverside, to tell the good news to his mother.
The poor widow wept tears of joy when she heard his story, and smiled
when he told her that his name was to be Little Boy Blue. She knew the
Squire was a kind master and would be good to her darling son.
Early the next morning Little Boy Blue was at the Hall, and the
Squire's steward gave him a new silver horn, that glistened brightly
in the sunshine, and a golden cord to fasten it around his neck. And
then he was given charge of the sheep and the cows, and told to keep
them from straying into the meadowlands and the fields of grain.
It was not hard work, but just suited to Little Boy Blue's age, and he
was watchful and vigilant and made a very good shepherd boy indeed.
His mother needed food no longer, for the Squire paid her son
liberally, and the Squire's daughter made a favorite of the small
shepherd and loved to hear the call of his silver horn echoing amongst
the hills. Even the sheep and the cows were fond of him, and always
obeyed the sound of his horn; therefore the Squire's corn thrived
finely, and was never trampled.
Little Boy Blue was now very happy, and his mother was proud and
contented and began to improve in health. After a few weeks she became
strong enough to leave the cottage and walk a little in the fields
each day; but she could not go far, because her limbs were too feeble
to support her long, so the most she could attempt was to walk as far
as the stile to meet Little Boy Blue as he came home from work in the
evening. Then she would lean on his shoulder and return to the cottage
with him, and the boy was very glad he could thus support his darling
mother and assist her faltering steps.
But one day a great misfortune came upon them, since it is true that
no life can be so happy but that sorrow will creep in to temper it.
Little Boy Blue came homeward one evening very light of heart and
whistled merrily as he walked, for he thought he should find his
mother awaiting him at the stile and a good supper spread upon the
table in the little cottage. But when he came to the stile his mother
was not in sight, and in answer to his call a low moan of pain reached
his ears.
Little Boy Blue sprang over the stile and found lying upon the ground
his dear mother, her face white and drawn with suffering, and tears of
anguish running down her cheeks. For she had slipped upon the stile
and fallen, and her leg was broken!
Little Boy Blue ran to the cottage for water and bathed the poor
woman's face, and raised her head that she might drink. There were no
neighbors, for the cottage stood all alone by the river, so the child
was obliged to support his mother in his arms as best he could while
she crawled painfully back to the cottage. Fortunately, it was not
far, and at last she was safely laid upon her bed. Then Little Boy
Blue began to think what he should do next.
"Can I leave you alone while I go for the doctor, mamma?" he asked,
anxiously, as he held her clasped hands tightly in his two little
ones. His mother drew him towards her and kissed him.
"Take the boat, dear," she said, "and fetch the doctor from the
village. I shall be patient till you return."
Little Boy Blue rushed away to the river bank and unfastened the
little boat; and then he pulled sturdily down the river until he
passed the bend and came to the pretty village below. When he had
found the doctor and told of his mother's misfortune, the good man
promised to attend him at once, and very soon they were seated in the
boat and on their way to the cottage.
It was very dark by this time, but Little Boy Blue knew every turn and
bend in the river, and the doctor helped him pull at the oars, so that
at last they came to the place where a faint light twinkled through
the cottage window. They found the poor woman in much pain, but the
doctor quickly set and bandaged her leg, and gave her some medicine to
ease her suffering. It was nearly midnight when all was finished and
the doctor was ready to start back to the village.
"Take good care of your mother," he said to the boy, "and do n't worry
about her, for it is not a bad break and the leg will mend nicely in
time; but she will be in bed many days, and you must nurse her as well
as you are able."
All through the night the boy sat by the bedside, bathing his mother's
fevered brow and ministering to her wants. And when the day broke she
was resting easily and the pain had left her, and she told Little Boy
Blue he must go to his work.
"For," said she, "more than ever now we need the money you earn from
the Squire, as my misfortune will add to the expenses of living, and
we have the doctor to pay. Do not fear to leave me, for I shall rest
quietly and sleep most of the time while you are away."
Little Boy Blue did not like to leave his mother all alone, but he
knew of no one he could ask to stay with her; so he placed food and
water by her bedside, and ate a little breakfast himself, and started
off to tend his sheep.
The sun was shining brightly, and the birds sang sweetly in the trees,
and the crickets chirped just as merrily as if this great trouble had
not come to Little Boy Blue to make him sad.
But he went bravely to his work, and for several hours he watched
carefully; and the men at work in the fields, and the Squire's
daughter, who sat embroidering upon the porch of the great house,
heard often the sound of his horn as he called the straying sheep to
his side.
But he had not slept the whole night, and he was tired with his long
watch at his mother's bedside, and so in spite of himself the lashes
would droop occasionally over his blue eyes, for he was only a child,
and children feel the loss of sleep more than older people.
Still, Little Boy Blue had no intention of sleeping while he was on
duty, and bravely fought against the drowsiness that was creeping over
him. The sun shone very hot that day, and he walked to the shady side
of a big haystack and sat down upon the ground, leaning his back
against the stack.
The cows and sheep were quietly browsing near him, and he watched them
earnestly for a time, listening to the singing of the birds, and the
gentle tinkling of the bells upon the wethers, and the faraway songs
of the reapers that the breeze brought to his ears.
And before he knew it the blue eyes had closed fast, and the golden
head lay back upon the hay, and Little Boy Blue was fast asleep and
dreaming that his mother was well again and had come to the stile to
meet him.
The sheep strayed near the edge of the meadow and paused, waiting for
the warning sound of the horn. And the breeze carried the fragrance of
the growing corn to the nostrils of the browsing cows and tempted them
nearer and nearer to the forbidden feast. But the silver horn was
silent, and before long the cows were feeding upon the Squire's pet
cornfield and the sheep were enjoying themselves amidst the juicy
grasses of the meadows.
The Squire himself was returning from a long, weary ride over his
farms, and when he came to the cornfield and saw the cows trampling
down the grain and feeding upon the golden stalks he was very angry.
"Little Boy Blue!" he cried; "ho! Little Boy Blue, come blow your
horn!" But there was no reply. He rode on a way and now discovered
that the sheep were deep within the meadows, and that made him more
angry still.
"Here, Isaac," he said to a farmer's lad who chanced to pass by,
"where is Little Boy Blue?"
"He 's under the haystack, your honor, fast asleep!" replied Isaac
with a grin, for he had passed that way and seen that the boy was
lying asleep.
"Will you go and wake him?" asked the Squire; "for he must drive out
the sheep and the cows before they do more damage."
"Not I," replied Isaac, "if I wake him he 'll surely cry, for he is
but a baby, and not fit to mind the sheep. But I myself will drive
them out for your honor," and away he ran to do so, thinking that now
the Squire would give him Little Boy Blue's place, and make him the
shepherd boy, for Isaac had long coveted the position.
The Squire's daughter, hearing the angry tones of her father's voice,
now came out to see what was amiss, and when she heard that Little Boy
Blue had failed in his trust she was deeply grieved, for she had loved
the child for his pretty ways.
The Squire dismounted from his horse and came to where the boy was
lying.
"Awake!" said he, shaking him by the shoulder, "and depart from my
lands, for you have betrayed my trust, and let the sheep and the cows
stray into the fields and meadows!"
Little Boy Blue started up at once and rubbed his eyes; and then he
did as Isaac prophesied, and began to weep bitterly, for his heart was
sore that he had failed in his duty to the good Squire and so
forfeited his confidence.
But the Squire's daughter was moved by the child's tears, so she took
him upon her lap and comforted him, asking,
"Why did you sleep, Little Boy Blue, when you should have watched the
cows and the sheep?"
"My mother has broken her leg," answered the boy, between his sobs,
"and I did not sleep all last night, but sat by her bedside nursing
her. And I tried hard not to fall asleep, but could not help myself;
and oh, Squire! I hope you will forgive me this once, for my poor
mother's sake!"
"Where does your mother live?" asked the Squire, in a kindly tone,
for he had already forgiven Little Boy Blue.
"In the cottage down by the river," answered the child; "and she is
all alone, for there is no one near to help us in our trouble."
"Come," said Mistress Madge, rising to her feet and taking his hand;
"lead us to your home, and we will see if we cannot assist your poor
mother."
So the Squire and his daughter and Little Boy Blue all walked down to
the little cottage, and the Squire had a long talk with the poor
widow. And that same day a big basket of dainties was sent to the
cottage, and Mistress Madge bade her own maid go to the widow and
nurse her carefully until she recovered.
So that after all Little Boy Blue did more for his dear mother by
falling asleep than he could had he kept wide awake; for after his
mother was well again the Squire gave them a pretty cottage to live in
very near to the great house itself, and the Squire's daughter was
ever afterward their good friend, and saw that they wanted for no
comforts of life.
And Little Boy Blue did not fall asleep again at his post, but watched
the cows and the sheep faithfully for many years, until he grew up to
manhood and had a farm of his own.
He always said his mother's accident had brought him good luck, but I
think it was rather his own loving heart and his devotion to his
mother that made him friends. For no one is afraid to trust a boy who
loves to serve and care for his mother.
The Cat and the Fiddle
The Cat and the Fiddle
Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon!
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran off with the spoon!
Perhaps you think this verse is all nonsense, and that the things it
mentions could never have happened; but they did happen, as you will
understand when I have explained them all to you clearly.
Little Bobby was the only son of a small farmer who lived out of town
upon a country road. Bobby's mother looked after the house and Bobby's
father took care of the farm, and Bobby himself, who was not very big,
helped them both as much as he was able.
It was lonely upon the farm, especially when his father and mother
were both busy at work, but the boy had one way to amuse himself that
served to pass many an hour when he would not otherwise have known
what to do. He was very fond of music, and his father one day brought
him from the town a small fiddle, or violin, which he soon learned to
play upon. I don't suppose he was a very fine musician, but the tunes
he played pleased himself; as well as his father and mother, and
Bobby's fiddle soon became his constant companion.
One day in the warm summer the farmer and his wife determined to drive
to the town to sell their butter and eggs and bring back some
groceries in exchange for them, and while they were gone Bobby was to
be left alone.
"We shall not be back till late in the evening," said his mother, "for
the weather is too warm to drive very fast. But I have left you a dish
of bread and milk for your supper, and you must be a good boy and
amuse yourself with your fiddle until we return."
Bobby promised to be good and look after the house, and then his
father and mother climbed into the wagon and drove away to the town.
The boy was not entirely alone, for there was the big black tabby-cat
lying upon the floor in the kitchen, and the little yellow dog barking
at the wagon as it drove away, and the big moolie-cow lowing in the
pasture down by the brook. Animals are often very good company, and
Bobby did not feel nearly as lonely as he would had there been no
living thing about the house.
Besides he had some work to do in the garden, pulling up the weeds
that grew thick in the carrot-bed, and when the last faint sounds of
the wheels had died away he went into the garden and began his task.
The little dog went too, for dogs love to be with people and to watch
what is going on; and he sat down near Bobby and cocked up his ears
and wagged his tail and seemed to take a great interest in the
weeding. Once in a while he would rush away to chase a butterfly or
bark at a beetle that crawled through the garden, but he always came
back to the boy and kept near his side.
By and by the cat, which found it lonely in the big, empty kitchen,
now that Bobby's mother was gone, came walking into the garden also,
and lay down upon a path in the sunshine and lazily watched the boy at
his work. The dog and the cat were good friends, having lived together
so long that they did not care to fight each other. To be sure Towser,
as the little dog was called, sometimes tried to tease pussy, being
himself very mischievous; but when the cat put out her sharp claws and
showed her teeth, Towser, like a wise little dog, quickly ran away,
and so they managed to get along in a friendly manner.
By the time the carrot-bed was all weeded, the sun was sinking behind
the edge of the forest and the new moon rising in the east, and now
Bobby began to feel hungry and went into the house for his dish of
bread and milk.
"I think I 'll take my supper down to the brook," he said to himself,
"and sit upon the grassy bank while I eat it. And I 'll take my
fiddle, too, and play upon it to pass the time until father and mother
come home."
It was a good idea, for down by the brook it was cool and pleasant; so
Bobby took his fiddle under his arm and carried his dish of bread and
milk down to the bank that sloped to the edge of the brook. It was
rather a steep bank, but Bobby sat upon the edge, and placing his
fiddle beside him, leaned against a tree and began to eat his supper.
The little dog had followed at his heels, and the cat also came slowly
walking after him, and as Bobby ate, they sat one on either side of
him and looked earnestly into his face as if they too were hungry. So
he threw some of the bread to Towser, who grabbed it eagerly and
swallowed it in the twinkling of an eye. And Bobby left some of the
milk in the dish for the cat, also, and she came lazily up and drank
it in a dainty, sober fashion, and licked both the dish and spoon
until no drop of the milk was left.
Then Bobby picked up his fiddle and tuned it and began to play some of
the pretty tunes he knew. And while he played he watched the moon rise
higher and higher until it was reflected in the smooth, still water of
the brook. Indeed, Bobby could not tell which was the plainest to see,
the moon in the sky or the moon in the water. The little dog lay
quietly on one side of him, and the cat softly purred upon the other,
and even the moolie-cow was attracted by the music and wandered near
until she was browsing the grass at the edge of the brook.
After a time, when Bobby had played all the tunes he knew, he laid the
fiddle down beside him, near to where the cat slept, and then he lay
down upon the bank and began to think.
It is very hard to think long upon a dreamy summer night without
falling asleep, and very soon Bobby's eyes closed and he forgot all
about the dog and the cat and the cow and the fiddle, and dreamed he
was Jack the Giant Killer and was just about to slay the biggest giant
in the world.
And while he dreamed, the cat sat up and yawned and stretched herself;
and then began wagging her long tail from side to side and watching
the moon that was reflected in the water.
But the fiddle lay just behind her, and as she moved her tail, she
drew it between the strings of the fiddle, where it caught fast. Then
she gave her tail a jerk and pulled the fiddle against the tree, which
made a loud noise. This frightened the cat greatly, and not knowing
what was the matter with her tail, she started to run as fast as she
could. But still the fiddle clung to her tail, and at every step it
bounded along and made such a noise that she screamed with terror. And
in her fright she ran straight towards the cow, which, seeing a black
streak coming at her, and hearing the racket made by the fiddle,
became also frightened and made such a jump to get out of the way that
she jumped right across the brook, leaping over the very spot where
the moon shone in the water!
Bobby had been awakened by the noise, and opened his eyes in time to
see the cow jump; and at first it seemed to him that she had actually
jumped over the moon in the sky, instead of the one in the brook.
The dog was delighted at the sudden excitement caused by the cat, and
ran barking and dancing along the bank, so that he presently knocked
against the dish, and behold! it slid down the bank, carrying the
spoon with it, and fell with a splash into the water of the brook.
As soon as Bobby recovered from his surprise he ran after the cat,
which had raced to the house, and soon came to where the fiddle lay
upon the ground, it having at last dropped from the cat's tail. He
examined it carefully, and was glad to find it was not hurt, in spite
of its rough usage. And then he had to go across the brook and drive
the cow back over the little bridge, and also to roll up his sleeve
and reach into the water to recover the dish and the spoon.
Then he went back to the house and lighted a lamp, and sat down to
compose a new tune before his father and mother returned.
The cat had recovered from her fright and lay quietly under the stove,
and Towser sat upon the floor panting, with his mouth wide open, and
looking so comical that Bobby thought he was actually laughing at the
whole occurrence.
And these were the words to the tune that Bobby composed that night:
Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon!
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran off with the spoon!
The Black Sheep
The Black Sheep
Black sheep, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, my little master, three bags full;
One for my master and one for his dame,
And one for the little boy that lives in the lane.
It was a bright spring day, and the sun shone very warm and pleasant
over the pastures, where the new grass was growing so juicy and tender
that all the sheep thought they had never tasted anything so
delicious.
The sheep had had a strange experience that morning, for the farmer
had taken them down to the brook and washed them, and then he tied
their legs together and laid them on the grass and clipped all the
heavy, soft wool from their bodies with a great pair of shears.
The sheep did not like this very well, for every once in a while the
shears would pull the wool and hurt them; and when they were sheared
they felt very strange, for it was almost as if someone took off all
your clothes and let you run around naked. None of them were in a very
good temper this morning, although the sun shone so warmly and the
grass was so sweet, and as they watched the farmer and his man carry
their wool up to the house in great bags, the old ram said, crossly,
"I hope they are satisfied, now that they have stolen from us all our
soft, warm fleece."
"What are they going to do with it?" asked one of the sheep.
"Oh, they will spin it into threads and make coats for the men and
dresses for the women. For men are such strange creatures that no wool
grows on them at all, and that is why they selfishly rob us of our
fleece that they may cover their own skinny bodies!"
"It must be horrid to be a man," said the Black Sheep, "and not to
have any wool grow on you at all. I 'm sorry for that little boy that
lives in the lane, for he will never be able to keep warm unless we
give him some of our wool."
"But what a shame it is," continued the ram, "for the farmer to steal
all the wool from us when we have taken all the trouble to grow it!"
"I do n't mind," bleated a young lamb named Frisky, as it kicked up
its heels and gambolled about upon the grass; "it 's nice to have all
that heavy wool cut off my back, for I sha' n't have to carry it
around wherever I go."
"Oh, indeed!" sneered the ram, "you like it, do you? Have you any idea
what you look like, all sheared down to your skin? How would you like
to have someone come along and see you, now that you are all head and
legs?"
"Oh, I would n't mind," said the lamb again; "I shall grow more wool
by wintertime, and I 'm sure I do n't look any worse than you do."
Some of the sheep looked at the ram and began to titter, for he was
old and thin, and looked very comical indeed without any wool. And
this made him so angry that he went off by himself and began eating
grass, and would not speak to the others at all.
"I do n't know why sheep should feel badly about having their fleeces
cut," remarked the Black Sheep, thoughtfully, "for the farmer is very
kind to us, and so is his dame, and I am glad my wool serves to keep
them warm in the winter. For before the snow comes our wool will grow
out again, and we shall not be any the worse for our loss."
"What do those people who have n't any sheep do for clothes?" asked
the lamb.
"I 'm sure I do n't know. They must nearly freeze in the winter.
Perhaps the ram can tell us."
But the ram was still angry, and refused to say anything, so the sheep
stopped talking and began to scatter over the pasture and eat the
tender, new grass.
By and by the Black Sheep wandered near the lane, and looking up, saw
the little boy watching it through the bars.
"Good morning, Black Sheep," said the boy; "why do you look so funny
this morning?"
"They have cut off my wool," answered the sheep.
"What will they do with it, Black Sheep?" enquired the little boy.
"They will make coats of it, to keep themselves warm."
"I wish I had some wool," said the boy," for I need a new coat very
badly, and mamma is so poor she cannot buy me one."
"That is too bad," replied the Black Sheep; "but I shall have more
wool by and by, and then I will give you a bagful to make a new coat
from."
"Will you really?" asked the boy, looking very much pleased.
"Indeed I will," answered the sheep, "for you are always kind and have
a pleasant word for me. So you watch until my wool grows again, and
then you shall have your share of it."
"Oh, thank you!" said the boy, and he ran away to tell his mother what
the Black Sheep had said.
When the farmer came into the field again the Black Sheep said to him,
"Master, how many bags of wool did you cut from my back?"
"Two bags full," replied the farmer; "and it was very nice wool
indeed."
"If I grow three bags full the next time, may I have one bag for
myself?" asked the sheep.
Pages:
1 | 2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10