« 上一頁繼續 »
TO A FLY.
Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
mischief cherry knee graze
mistake orchard knock praise
MISCHIEVOUS CHERRY. One day I saw a cow with her head in a bucket of potatoes that had been pared for dinner. Half of the potatoes were eaten, and the other half bitten and sadly pulled about. The maid came running with the broom in her hand and beat the cow heartily. The cow that did the mis-chief was Cherry.
Soon after this, four or five cows were seen in Farmer Gray's turnip-field. There they were enjoying themselves up to their knees in the green tops, eating the turnips, and trampling about here and there and everywhere. , Cherry was the cow that knocked down the hurdle, and led the way into the turnipfield.
Three times in one day have I seen Cherry in the orchard pulling the fruit from low boughs, and snipping off the ends of the branches. This was at a time too when every other cow was grazing quietly and peaceably. But Cherry never was like other cows and never will be.
Any one looking at Cherry at this moment, while she is being milked, might suppose her to be one of the quietest of cows. Oh dear! What a mistake! It was but yesterday that she knocked over the pail half full of milk. By her wicked capering, too, and kicking up her heels, she seemed to enjoy the mischief she had done.
Oh, Cherry, Cherry, these are not half the pranks you have played often and often. When the gate of the field has been opened, you have set oft" at full swing, tossing your horns about and giving way to giddy frolic. The children you met in the lane were half dead with fright.
One thing, however, I must say in Cherry's praise: whatever were her tricks, and however she treated others, she always behaved well to me. But then you know I did the same by her.
Cherry ate out of my hand when she was a calf, and she • will eat out of my hand still. I can put my arms round her soft neck; I can stroke her forehead as she hangs down her head to me, and I can pat her back whenever I please. Cherry is not the cow to lift up her hoof or to shake her horns at an old friend. Oh no! She is not so bad as that.*
gentleman walking distance question
deer-hound waiting trousers explain
A CLEVER DOG. A Gentle'man was walking along a road with a noble deer-hound. He threw his glove into a ditch, and having walked on for a mile, sent his dog back for it.
After waiting for some time, he was returning to see what was the matter, when he heard loud cries in the distance. Hastening on, he at last saw the dog dragging a boy by his trousers towards him.
* Old Humphrey.
On questioning the boy, it appeared that he had picked up the glove and put it into his pocket. The animal had no other way of explahring this to his master than by forcing the boy to go along with him.
How did the dog know that the boy had the glove?
stable shoulder ditch saunter
stumble footpath pitch assault
A QUARRELSOME DOG.
I Once had a faithful dog who seemed to have the notion that his master liked a row. He never lost the chance of getting up one with some man or some animal when I was with him.
As I grew up, he always found out when I was at home, although, perhaps, I arrived at night when he was in his kennel. The next morning I was sure to see him with his shoulder against the stable wall, whence he could view as many doors and gates as possible. This was, in the first place, to watch for me, and in the second place, to wage war with anything he did not like.
Among his enemies was a tailor, and on this man's bundle, Grumbo might often be seen attached. The tailor might be seen dancing about and roaring for help. These attacks were never made unless I was at home.
When we walked abroad, he always picked quarrels with men on foot-paths, or with oxen, or cows,—always, if he could, trying to make them the beginners of the row. From knowing him so well, I could easily see when he was bent on mischief.
Thus he would get on a foot'path before some man, always choosing the worst dressed, and walking very slowly with his ears laid back, and his tail hanging down. As the man came near he would be sure to get in his way, so that he stumbled over him. This he made out to be an as'sault, and the next moment saw bundle or wares pitched into the hedge, and the man going round and round with Grumbo holding fast to the calf of his leg.
If his field of action lay with cows or oxen, he would saunter into their pasture, and lie down in the midst of them. Then the moment he was seen, they would gather round him, till one, more forward than the rest, butted at him, or snuffed at him. This was enough, and then the unlucky cow was seized by the nose.*
Oiteaa attaM alaqatna tnaeu/iy
Master Tom was, one fine morning, found in the field by some mowers. He was in full feather and just about to make his first flight to the heavens.
He was carefully handled and carried off to the big house. The young ladies were sitting at breakfast, when the door opened, and Tom Lark, Esquire, was ushered in.
Great was the delight the feathered stranger gave. He was forth'with provided with a cage, and the young gentleman in buttons was ordered, on pain
* F. Bucldand.
of a sound flogging, to bring a fresh shamrock sod for him every morning.
Master Tommy very soon made himself at home, and at length he seemed so tame that Miss Bessy dared to open the door of the cage. Out flew Master Tom and gave Miss Bessy a kiss for her kindness. And although he grew quite familiar with all the family, Bessy was ever after-wards his chosen pet.
Tommy, having behaved himself like a gentleman, was daily allowed his freedom, to the extent of the room. He would alight on the heads of the young ladies, or on the table, and pick up the crumbs. When he took up his position on the loaf he would even allow a slice to be cut without moving, or being at all frightened at the sight of the big bread-knife. He was a brave little fellow, was he not?
Then Tommy was interested in the pursuits of industry. While the girls were busy sewing, he would sit on the work-table and watch the needle and thread as if he wanted to learn. By-and-bye he made himself useful, too, in threading a needle. When the thread was put a little way into the eye, he would make a dab at it and draw it through.
Sometimes, as if in fun, he would seize the wrong side and draw out the thread, and then he would fly away and chuckle over the mischief he had done. At other times he would seize the end of a reel of cotton, and fly with it to the other side of the room, unwinding it all the time.