The Nursery, No. 106, October, 1875. Vol. XVIII. | Page 2

where, in the piled-up rocks, the sea had hollowed caves; Or
sit and feel the cooling breeze in silent happiness; Or hunt for seaweed
in the clefts, and take it home to press.
And well do I remember there a little shallow creek, Where we would
go and sail our ships, at least three times a week: We loaded them with
cargoes rich, and sent them all to Spain; And back they came with
heavy freights, by which we made much gain.
Oh! pleasant pastimes on the beach, how often I recall The ocean grand,
the distant sails, the rocks, the lighthouse tall! They do not fade, these
pictures bright, from memory's inner view; And age itself shall never
dim their colors ever new.
EMILY CARTER.
[Illustration]

MABEL AND HER FRIEND CARLO.

Mabel lives on a hill, quite near a beautiful lake, and is very fond of
going with her papa to take a row on the water. Sometimes they visit
the woods on the other side of the lake, and pick wild flowers, or go
where the water-lilies grow, near the shore, and gather a bunch of the
pretty white blossoms.
But I must tell about Mabel's friend Carlo. He is a large shaggy dog,
owned by a gentleman who lives near. Although quite a young dog, he
knows a great deal. He is very fond of water, and is wild with delight at
the prospect of a swim.
His master owns a large sail-boat, and, as the water near the shore is
not deep, he has to use a small boat to reach it. When Carlo sees him
take down the oar from its place in the yard, he runs up, and takes it in
his mouth, as much as to say, "Let me carry that for you, master." Then
he trots down the hill with the oar, feeling very proud that he is allowed
to carry it.
One day, Carlo took hold of the rope with his teeth, and drew the small
boat to the shore; so that his master, who was in it, did not have to use
the oar.
Mabel loves Carlo very much; and, although he is a large dog, he
knows that he must play very gently with little boys and girls, and not
hurt them with his great paws. NED

PLAYING KING.
Ho! I'm a king, a king! A crown is on my head; A sword is at my side;
and regal is my tread: Ho, slave! proclaim my will to all the people
round,-- The schools are hereby closed; henceforth must fun abound.
Vacation shall not end; all slates I order smashed; The man who says
"arithmetic"--he must be soundly thrashed; All grammars shall be burnt;
the spellers we will tear; The boy who spells correctly--a fool's cap he
shall wear.

No dolls shall be allowed, for dolls are what I hate; The girls must give
them up, and learn to swim and skate; Confectioners must charge only
a cent a pound For all the plums and candy that in the shops are found.
That man who asks a dime for any pear or peach-- I'll have him hung so
high, that none his feet can reach; No baker is allowed hereafter to bake
bread; He must bake only pies and cake and ginger-snaps instead.
All lecturers must quit our realm without delay; The circus-men and
clowns, on pain of death, must stay; All folks who frown on fun, at
once must banished be: Now, fellow, that you know my will, to its
fulfilment see!
ALFRED SELWYN.
[Illustration]
A TRUE ANTELOPE STORY.
Some time ago, I told the readers of "The Nursery" about catching a
buffalo-calf. I will now tell them about a young antelope which we
caught, and another which we almost caught.
Tip and I were in that part of Western Kansas which is left blank on the
maps. Two hunters, Thompson and Hughes, had joined us; and we
were coming back from a buffalo-chase. We had been crawling lazily
along, over prairie, through valley, up and down hill, since sunrise, and
it was now nearly noon.
All of a sudden, from a clump of tall grass near us, up sprung an
antelope and a pair of beautiful fawns. Like a flash, the old one and one
of the fawns started over the brow of the ridge on which they were
lying; while the other little fellow began running around in a circle, as
you have seen ponies do at the circus, bleating as hard as he could.
The boys leaped from the wagons in an instant, while I remained to
hold the horses. Ranging themselves around the circle, the three hunters
every now and then, dashed headlong after the fawn as he flew past;

but missed him by a