The Nursery, No. 106, October, 1875. Vol. XVIII. | Page 6

near, stepped into their boat, and were rowed away, leaving the man and his friendly dog to enjoy each other's company.
CHARLIE'S MAMMA.

GOING AFTER COWS.
When Edward was eight years old, his mother told him he might go with John, the hired man, to drive the cows from the pasture. How happy the little boy was!
Every day he would be ready as soon as John gave the word; and off they would go, through the woods, over hills and rocks, and gurgling brooks, wherever the ding-dong of the distant cow-bells pointed the way.
Sometimes they had a long search before they could find all the cows; for the pasture was very large, and the cows would wander about in every part of it, to find the best feeding-places.
[Illustration]
On the way home, Edward would run ahead of the cows, and open the bars; and sometimes he would sit on the wall, and pat each cow as she came through.
When the cows reached the barnyard, Edward would help milk. There was one old cow which he called his own, and which he named Carrie. She always stood very still while being milked, and that was one reason why he liked her better than any of the rest.
After milking, he helped John to carry in the milk, and his mother often gave him a mug full. Oh, how nice it was!
W.T.O.

[Illustration]
ROLY-POLY.
Roly-Poly is three years old, Three years old, and a trifle over: Roly-Poly is round as a ball, Jolly as larks, and sweet as clover.
Roly-Poly has stars for eyes, A heavenly chin with a dimple in it, Peaches for cheeks, the bud of a nose, And a tongue that is never still a minute.
Roly-Poly gets up in the morning,-- Morning, quoth I? it's the crack of the dawn!-- Dresses himself in a boot and a stocking, Flies to his sister as swift as a fawn.
Pulls at her eyes with his fat little fingers,-- Crazy for stories, that's all the matter!-- "Oh! I am sleepy and cross," she cries; "You, Roly-Poly, disperse and scatter!"
But Roly-Poly's a resolute tyrant; Father and mother are captives wholly: So what can a poor big sister do But yield to a king like Roly-Poly.
Roly-Poly's a man of business: He canters to market on grandpa's cane, Orders a breakfast of peppermint-candy, And gallops his pony home again.
Roly-Poly's a man of pleasure: Sorrow and care are for grown-up stupids: Pictures and kisses, toys and caresses, Fondling and fun, for dimpled Cupids.
After the sun has gone out of the south, The night comes down on his eyelids slowly; He topples asleep with his thumb in his mouth,-- What an iniquity, Roly-Poly!
OLIVE A. WADSWORTH.

ELSIE'S DUCKS.
Elsie was the daughter of poor parents, who lived on the borders of a lake. Once, when she was very ill with a fever, a good neighbor made her a present of three young ducks. Elsie was much pleased, and she soon began to get well.
Her mother would bring a large tub of water into the room where the little invalid lay; and the three ducks would swim about, and swallow the crumbs which Elsie threw to them.
As soon as she got well, she would drive the ducks down to the lake, and let them swim. They were so tame, that they would come out of the water at her call.
Sometimes her father and the rest of the family would get into a boat, and he would row across the lake to the opposite side, where some families lived who employed Elsie's mother to wash clothes for them.
[Illustration]
At these times, the three ducks would follow the boat. Perhaps they did not like to trust their dear Elsie on the water, unless they were by to help her in case of need.
Sometimes old and young would join in a song; and then far over the lake would be heard the words:
"Come to the sunset tree, the day is past and gone, The woodman's axe lies free, and the reaper's task is done."
It was a very pretty sight, on a summer evening, when the bright clouds over the setting sun threw their tints on the water, to see the ducks swimming by the side of the little boat which contained Elsie and the rest of the family. It was so pretty a sight, that a good artist made a picture of the scene. We give you a copy of it here.
IDA FAY.
[Illustration]

FISHING FOR TROUT.
The trout belongs to the salmon family. Its flesh is generally of a pale pink or yellow color. It is one of the handsomest fish to be found in our waters. The variations of its tints are very beautiful; and the red spots on its skin distinguish it from common fish.
I never had much luck in catching trout. One summer I went from the city to try the trout-streams in Northern