The Nursery, No. 103, July, 1875. Vol. XVIII. | Page 6

He thinks it must be a charming occupation to make molasses-candy, and be able to eat as much as he wants. He must live and learn.
ARTHUR SELWYN.

PLAYING HORSE.
Among Ellen's playthings, there is none that pleases her more than the bright worsted reins which her aunt bought for her at the May fair.
"Reins!--what does a girl do with reins?" I think I hear somebody ask. Why, she plays horse with them, to be sure. She has a brother Charles. He is the horse sometimes; and sometimes he is the driver, and Ellen is the horse. Either way, it is good fun.
One fine June day, her elder brother, Ned, took part in the play. He said there should be a span of horses. He and Charles would be the span, and Ellen should drive. "No," said Ellen, "I would rather be one of the horses."
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So Nelly and Ned were harnessed together, and Charley took the reins. "Get up!" said he, and away they went. As they crossed the lawn, they passed a lawn-mower, and the horse Ned shied badly. If he had not had such a steady horse as Nell by his side, there might have been an accident.
As it was, Charles held him in with a tight rein, and the two horses came trotting back to the starting-point at full speed. If Charles had had a watch to time them by, I think he would have found that they made a mile in less than three minutes.
A. B. C.
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[Illustration]
JACK.
Jack was not a handsome dog. His best friends could not call him a beauty; but as he was a very wise, good dog, we were all very fond of him.
One afternoon, some of the younger members of the family were sitting on the piazza, waiting for papa, who was expected home on the five-o'clock train. Jack was lying beside them.
At last, the whistle sounded in the distance; and the little four-year-old "flower of the family" said, "Run, Jack, to meet papa at the station." Jack looked up, listened intently for a moment, and then lay down again with a sigh of disappointment.
"Oh, what a lazy fellow!" said six-year-old Annie. "If mamma would only trust us to go to the station, we would not wait, or play sleepy." But the train passed on, and papa had not come.
In a little while, another whistle sounded; and this time, without a word of command, Jack sprung off the steps, dashed down the street, and returned in a few moments, escorting his master.
How did Jack know that the time-table had been changed that day, and a freight-train had taken the place of his master's train?
Another time, an uncle, who was visiting the family, had occasion to stay in town until the last train. Jack refused to be shut up, and, at eleven o'clock at night, went in the dark to the station, and escorted our guest up to the house.
How did he know what train to meet? and what instinct impelled him to do his part towards keeping up the courtesy of the family?

[Illustration: ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, LONDON.]

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A LETTER FROM CALIFORNIA.
Here we are in Santa Cruz, in a hotel right on the beach. We had such a lovely stage-ride over the mountains, and enjoyed the mountain air so much, that I was almost sorry when we arrived. I wish you could see the great madro?a-trees on the mountains with their dark-red wood and beautiful green leaves. I do not believe you have any Eastern trees so beautiful.
On the top of the Santa Cruz mountains, where we stopped to water the horses, there is a little house, and while we waited there, out from the house came a man whose face was all scarred and seamed. After we drove away, the stage-driver told us that the man was a hunter, known as "Mountain Charley," and that his scars were made by a grisly-bear.
Well, we have now been at Santa Cruz a week, and I have had a good time. Every morning we go in bathing. It is a funny sight to see everybody racing down into the waves, and catching hold of a big rope that is stretched from the shore a good distance into the water. The undertow here is so strong, that it is not safe to venture away from the rope.
Yesterday we all went to Moore's Beach to have a "clam-bake." We rode in a big wagon; and the first thing we did, when we got to the beach, was to pull off our shoes and stockings, and wade in the water. Papa and Uncle John dug the clams; while the rest of us ran about hunting for sea-urchins and shells.
As soon as the clams were boiled, we sat down on the beach, and unpacked the lunch-baskets. Oh, how hungry we were! and how