The Nursery, No. 109, January, 1876, Vol. XIX. | Page 8

often frozen, and there is little or no snow on the ground: so there is no skating, or coasting, or throwing of snow-balls, or merry jingle of sleigh-bells.
But we have very good times at the South notwithstanding. The boys go out with their guns, and sometimes shoot a wild turkey; but often they shoot just for the sake of making a noise. Their traps are set, too, about this time, for squirrels, as you may see in the picture.
Games of foot-ball and base-ball are not uncommon; and I have known it mild enough for girls and boys to play croquet on the lawn, or to row in a boat on the river.
What is that little girl doing in the central part of the picture? She is making a present of a sack to her good old nurse, who now has a baby of her own. The sack is for the baby. How glad they all are--the mother, the aunt, and the little boy, who, I think, must be the baby's brother!
As for the Christmas feast at the South, it may be very much like that at the North. In the picture we get a glimpse of a roast pig and a plum pudding. There is often a wild turkey and a plenty of other game.
"But is there a Christmas-tree? And does Santa Claus come with his trinkets, and his picture-books, as at the North?" Yes, in many families there is a Christmas tree, and Santa Claus does not forget that there are little children at the South also.
In the evening, the little ones play blind-man's-bluff, or hunt-the-slipper. Sometimes Jack Frost steals down from the North, and pinches them. But he does not stay long. He likes his northern home best.
UNCLE HARRY.
[Illustration: CHRISTMAS AT THE SOUTH.]

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.
Mr. D. had promised to give his wife a beautiful rattan rocking-chair as a Christmas present. It was his employment to sell these articles. In due time, Mrs. D. called at his place of business, and selected a chair; but, as she sat enjoying it for a few minutes, a new idea came into her mind, and she told her husband that she would gladly do without her present, if he would give Jennie and Alice (their two little daughters) each a chair.
Her husband agreed to this; and on Christmas Eve he took home with him two elegant little rocking-chairs. Leaving them in his garden, he went in to tea, and, after taking his seat at the table, said to his children, "I have a story to tell you, and it is a true story. Would you like to hear it?"
Of course they were all eager to do so. So he said, "There was a lady in my store to-day, whose husband had promised to make her a Christmas present of a rocking-chair. After she had selected a very nice one, she turned to her husband, and said, 'If you will give each of our children a chair, I will forego the pleasure of having mine.' Now, wasn't she truly kind?"
The children were much interested in the story; and both exclaimed, "Yes, sir!" Then he added, "I liked the lady very much."
Here, little Alice, growing slightly jealous, exclaimed, "Did you like her better than you do mamma?"
"Oh, no! not better, but full as well," answered her father.
After supper, the chairs were brought in, much to the surprise and delight of Jennie and Alice, who both joyfully exclaimed, "O papa! you meant us!"
D.

[Illustration]
THE PROPER TIME.
"Will you play with me? Will you play with me?" A little girl said to the birds on a tree. "Oh, we have our nests to build," said they: "There's a time for work, and a time for play."
Then, meeting a dog, she cried, "Halloo! Come play with me, Jip, and do as I do." Said he, "I must watch the orchard to-day: There's a time for work, and a time for play."
A boy she saw; and to him she cried, "Come, play with me, John, by the greenwood side." "Oh, no!" said John, "I've my lesson to say: There's a time for work, and a time for play."
Then thoughtful a while stood the little miss, And said, "It is hard, on a day like this, To go to work; but, from what they all say, 'Tis a time for work, and not for play."
So homeward she went, and took her book, And first at the pictures began to look; Then said, "I think I will study to-day: There's a time for work, and a time for play."
EMILY CARTER.

OUR DOG MILO.
Milo was the name of a fine Spanish pointer. He had such an expressive face, such delicate ears, and such wise eyes, that you could not help looking at him.
And then he could stand up so cleverly on his hind-legs, dressed