The Nursery, No. 109, January, 1876, Vol. XIX. | Page 9

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 in his
little red coat and cap! An old beggar-woman, whose eyesight was not
very good, once took him for a boy, and thanked the "little man," as she
called him, for a present which we boys had trained him to go through
the form of offering.
He had belonged to a travelling company of jugglers and rope-dancers,

by whom he had been taught various tricks, though he had been made
to undergo much hard treatment. He could fire off a pistol, stand on
guard as a sentinel, beat a drum, and serve as a horse for the monkeys
of the show.
This last piece of work poor Milo did not at all like. The monkeys
would scratch and plague him; and, if he resented it, he would be
whipped. His worst enemy was a little monkey named Jocko, who
delighted to torment him.
[Illustration]
At last, we boys talked so much to our good papa about Milo, that he
bought him of the jugglers. How happy we were when we got
possession of him! Poor Milo seemed to be aware of our kind act. After
that, it seemed as if he could not do too much to show his gratitude.
How patiently he would stand on his legs, or march with us in our
mimic ranks as a soldier, when we went forth to battle! In all our plays
we could not do without Milo. He would stand on guard beside our
camp; and he it was who always had to fire the pistol when a deserter
was to be shot.
Sometimes we would play going through the woods, where the Indians
were likely to waylay us. Then Milo was our pathfinder. With his nice
sense of smell he must find out where the cunning redskins were lying
in wait.
There was no end to the uses to which we put the dear little dog in our
plays. Never did he snarl, or lose his temper. He saw that we loved him;
and he repaid our love by taking all the pains he could to please us.
But a dark time came for Milo and for us. A fright about mad dogs
broke out in our town. A bad fellow said he had seen another dog, who
was known to be mad, bite Milo. This was untrue; for Milo was at
home at the time.
But all our prayers were of no use. We must bring Milo to the

town-hall to have him shot. How we children wept and took on! Poor
Milo, our dear little playmate! Must we lose him forever? We could not
bear the thought.
The little dog himself saw that something was the matter, and whined
at seeing us all so sad. All at once up started our eldest brother, Robert,
and declared it should not be. He would rescue the little dog.
[Illustration]
He did so without letting any one know of his plan. He took Milo, at
night, in the cars, to the nearest great city. Here one of our cousins lived.
Placing Milo in his charge, Robert came back; and when the
town-officer came after the little dog, to kill him, he was told that Milo
had stepped out, and, if the town-folks wanted him, they must find him.
In a