THE DAISY. fa'vourite, cheer'ful.ly, shel'tered, joy'ous.ly. 1 The daisy is the meekest flower That grows in wood or field; 2 And when they 're passed away again, As cheerfully it springs, As if a playful butterfly Had bent it with his wings. 3 The daisy is a hardy plant, And in the winter time We find it by the sheltered nooks, 4 In spring it dots the green with white, To little children dear. 5 Before the stars are in the sky, The daisy goes to rest, And folds its little shining leaves 6 And so it sleeps in dewy night Until the morning breaks; Then, with the songs of early birds, THE MARCH WIND. naught'y, um-brella, blus'ter.ing, com mo'tion, di-rec'tion, onions, con-fu'sion, mis.for'tune, rue'ful, rogue, whis'tle, hand'ker-chief. dif'fer.ent, trav'el·ler, Was there ever anything half so naughty as the March wind? It comes upon you all at once; whistles in your ears; blows off your hat; turns your umbrella inside out; and is off round the corner before you can make out what is the matter. One day a March wind came all in a hurry blowing, blustering, squalling, by fits and starts, as though it were mad. Where it came from, none could tell. Though no one saw it, a great many heard it and felt it, and a pretty commotion it made, I can tell you. It entered at one end of the street where the market was held, and, O me! what a hubbub there was before it went out at the other. Like a brave man, it carried all before it. Hats, bonnets, and shawls flew in different directions. Bang went the doors; crash went the casements that were open; old women squalled; down fell the stalls; the glass jingled; the apples and onions, gimcracks and gingerbread nuts, chestnuts, and children, were all mixed together on the pavement. Lower down, the confusion was still greater; the sheeppens were scattered; the sheep ran about the streets; the turkeys gobbled; the geese chattered; the fowls flapped their wings and tried to get loose; the farmers stormed; the butchers bellowed; the pigs squealed; the dogs barked; and away went the March wind! Megg Muggins had a basket of eggs on her head. She was determined to have a shilling a score for them; but the March wind whisked her round, and puffed the basket off her head. Megg, where are your eggs now? Past all picking up! A sailor passed by at the time. 'Cheer up, my hearty!' cried he; worse misfortunes happen at sea.' Megg, in an ill humour, picked up her empty basket; and away went the March wind! The thatch of John Tomlin's cottage looked rueful, for part of it was carried into the garden. The tabby cat had been watching for a mouse by the water-butt for half an hour the mouse crept out, and the cat, with her head on her fore-paws, was just going to make a spring, when the March wind puffed off a tile from the roof of the brewhouse. Down it came clattering upon the waterbutt; the cat scampered off, the mouse crept under the tub again; and away went the March wind! The clothes-lines in the garden of Squire Gough were hung with linen; the wind came blustering like a tempest, the lines broke, and the clothes flew into the air. A pocket-handkerchief mounted over the trees into the turnpike road, and was picked up by a poor traveller who wanted one. 'It's an ill wind,' said the poor man, 'that blows nobody good;' so he put the handkerchief into his pocket, continued his journey; and away went the March wind! At the village school, the boys had just said their last lesson, and the young rogues came tumbling out through the school-room door, some with their hoops, some with their kites, and some tossing their hats into the air. The wind came upon them with a shrill whistle. The kites broke loose, their tails were tangled, the string twined round boys' legs; the hats flew about, one into a pigsty, another into a pond; the hoops trundled along of themselves; the boys set up a shout; and away went the March wind! THE KITTEN'S MISHAP. re-hearse', cush'ion, wo'ful.est, visage, con.ceive', approval, scam'pered, pit'e.ous, re-cover. The tale that I am about to rehearse was told me by Willy, though not told in verse. Said Willy: The cat had a kitten, that lay near the head of my bed, on a cushion of hay. 'Well, it happened one day, as I came from my work, before I had put by my rake and my fork, the old cat came up; and she pawed and she mewed, with the wofulest visage that ever I viewed; and she shewed me the door, and she ran in and out: I could not conceive what the cat was about. 'But no sooner she saw me inclined to obey, than she purred her approval, then scampered away to a pond not far off, where the kitten I found in an old broken basket, just sinking, half drowned. 'Perhaps some bad fellow this action had done, to torture the kitten, and then call it fun; but this I don't know. I soon got her out, and a terrible fright she had had, there's no doubt. "'Twas a piteous object. It hung down its head, and Mary, for some time, believed it was dead. But we gave it some milk, and we dried its wet fur, and then-oh! what a pleasure there was in its purr! 'At length, when we saw that all danger was over, and, well warmed and well dried, it began to recover, we laid it in bed on its cushion of hay, and wrapped it up snugly, and bade it good-day. And then the poor mother gave over her mourning, and lay down and purred, like the wheel that was turning.' THE MONTHS-APRIL, MAY. hum'ming, blossoms, swallow, win'dow, cow'slip, dan-de-li'on, lil'ies, scat'ters, cuck’oo, night'in gale, skip'ping. APRIL is a month of shower and sunshine. The trees now begin to shew their green leaves, and to put forth their buds. The bees are busy all day long, humming among the blossoms of the fruit-trees. The bushes are filled with birds, and the swallow is building its nest at the window. Cowslips and daisies, bluebells and lilies of the valley, and the dandelion-by which children tell the hours of the day, by counting the number of puffs it takes to blow off all the downy seed-and many other flowers, are now in bloom, for April showers make May flowers. April comes with a gentle tread, A basket of blossoms he bears on his head, MAY, the merry month of May, is the month of flowers and hawthorn blossoms. The fields and woods are ringing all day long with the songs of birds. The boys, on their way to school, lay down their books to peep under every hedge and bush they pass in search of nests. The lark is singing on its way to the clouds. The voice of the cuckoo is now heard, and the nightingale sings her sweet song in the groves. The little lambs have now grown strong, and are skipping and frisking, and bounding and racing about after each other, and bleating for their mothers. |