The Nursery, No. 169, January, 1881, Vol. XXIX | Page 6

them as they fly; Nobody
hears their fairy tread, Nor the rustle of their wings instead.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.

[Illustration: DRAWING-LESSON.]

CHRISTMAS BELLS
[Illustration: CHRISTMAS BELLS.]
"Are you waking?" shout the breezes To the tree-tops waving high,
"Don't you hear the happy tidings Whispered to the earth and sky?
Have you caught them in your dreaming, Brook and rill in snowy dells?
Do you know the joy we bring you In the merry Christmas bells? Ding,
dong! ding, dong, Christmas bells!
"Are you waking, flowers that slumber In the deep and frosty ground?
Do you hear what we are breathing To the listening world around? For
we bear the sweetest story That the glad year ever tells: How He loved
the little children,-- He who brought the Christmas bells! Ding, dong!
ding, dong, Christmas bells!
GEORGE COOPER.

JACK THE MAGPIE.
One day last summer, a man in Colorado found a magpie by the
roadside. Its wings had been clipped, so that it could not fly. The man
gave it to a little boy named Ernest Hart.
He lived with his parents in a neat cottage near by a mountain stream.
He ran home, and showed the bird to his sister Edith. They named it
Jack.

Jack was quite a large bird. His body was black as coal; his breast was
white; and his wings and tail shaded off into a dark green. His bill was
long and very strong. He had a shrewd, knowing look. As he was quite
tame, he must have been some one's pet.
He would hop and strut around in such a funny, pompous way, that one
could not help laughing. He would take food from any one's hand, but
would not let any one touch him, except Mr. Hart, the children's father.
To Mr. Hart he seemed to take a great liking. He would hop on to his
hand or shoulder: he would follow him all over the place. As soon as
Mr. Hart came into the house, Jack would stand outside the door, and
scream to him to come out. Indeed, Jack was almost too fond of him.
One day when Mr. Hart was chopping wood, Jack kept laying his bill
within two or three inches of the place where the axe fell. It seemed just
as if he wanted his bill chopped off.
Jack could talk a little. He could say "pretty," "what," and "yes, sir."
When hungry, he would come round to the kitchen-door. There he
would keep up a loud chattering, till food was given him to eat.
Jack was shy of Marcus, the dog. But, while Marcus was eating his
dinner, Jack would steal up, and seize a bone from the plate. Then he
would run off and hide it.
I believe that all magpies are thieves. I know that Jack was a sad thief.
He would carry off almost any thing he saw lying about. One day he
was caught in the act of carrying off the gardener's pipe.
It was fun for Ernest and Edith to watch him at his mischief. All
summer they made much of him. Now, in October, though the trees are
still green and the wild flowers are not gone, we have had in our
Colorado home a taste of winter.
[Illustration: Jack the magpie and the dog.]
The ground has been white with snow. Jack is still with us, and seems

quite happy. Edith and Ernest may stay here all winter. Perhaps I may
tell you something of their winter sports. Would you like to hear it?
AUNT SADIE.

PORTRAITS FOR LITTLE FOLKS.
[Illustration: Master Baby]
This is Master Baby, Paying a morning call, Sitting so good upon his
chair, But speaking not at all. Listening to every word, The funny little
man! Wondering at the news he hears, Thinking all he can.
[Illustration: Miss Mary Vernon]
This little lady, I'd have you know, Is Miss Mary Vernon, With cheeks
in a glow. She has a doll Bella, Quite dear to her heart, And takes her to
ride In a nice little cart.
[Illustration: Tommy Trip]
This is Tommy Trip: Bubbles he can blow; When a bubble breaks too
soon, Tommy cries, "Don't go!" Older folks I know, Who their fine
schemes make, And, when any fine scheme fails, Cry, "Oh, do not
break!"
[Illustration: Susan]
'Tis the winter cold, All the ponds are ice; Susan loves the winter cold,
Calls the weather nice. Warm with muff and coat, She can go and skate;
She can glide along the ice At a merry rate.
[Illustration: Mary Jane]
This is Mary Jane, See! she has a saucer: To her cat she says, "Give me
up your paw, sir. I've some fresh, nice milk You will relish greatly."
Pussy then put up her