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go.
"Bumpity-bump" went the little wagon, and just as Rover missed the
rabbit, the wheel struck a big stone and poor _Jack_ tumbled out on the
ground. But he didn't cry. He was not hurt much, and he wasn't
frightened at all. He ran and caught Rover, and said, "Oho! Who cares
for a little bump like that? You're a funny horse, Rover. But you didn't
catch your rabbit, you old runaway--did you?"

 I had a little Kitten,
 His name was Pussy Grey--
 I lent him to a Lady
 While I was far away--
 She petted him, she fed him
 On things to make him fat--
 And now I have him back again
 My Kitten is a Cat!

HOW POLLY HAD HER PICTURE TAKEN

BY EVERETT WILSON

It was a bright spring morning, and all the animals on the Meadowbrook
Farm had been given their breakfast, and the Piggy-wig family had
settled down to a cozy nap. Suddenly there was heard a great noise and
rushing out in the apple orchard. Old Mother Piggy-wig jumped up on her
hind legs and looked over the fence of her sty to see what it was all
about. The little pig that went to market, and the little pig that
stayed at home, also jumped up, quite as excited as their mother. Then
the little pig that had roast beef, and the little pig that had none,
woke up, and they, too, scampered about, wishing to know what was going
on down under the apple-trees. But before old Mother Piggy-wig could
tell them, the little pig, who, one day, could not find his way home,
found a big hole in the lower board of the sty, and at once shouted:

"Oh, I see what it is! It is little Polly going to have her picture
taken."

And, sure enough, there was Polly's brother Ned with his camera; and
after him came Polly, and after Polly came--guess what!

Well, first there came Blackie, the cat, then came Banty, the hen; and
then came Gyp, the dog. And such a mew-mewing, and cluck-clucking, and
bow-wowing you never heard!

Polly had often had her picture taken, but it was always with her papa
or her mamma, and she had never had her picture taken with her pets. So
brother Ned had promised that on her birthday he would take her picture
with all of her pets--if they would only keep still. This day was
Polly's birthday, and, as the weather was fine, her brother had told her
to follow him out to the orchard.

Ned fastened his camera on its three sprawling legs, while Polly tried
to gather her pets around her. But by this time Blackie, the cat, was
chasing a squirrel (though he did not catch him), and Banty, the hen,
was away off scratching for worms; and Gyp, the dog, was barking at a
bossy calf down by the brook, for, of course, Polly's pets did not know
it was her birthday and that they were to have their pictures taken with
her.

Polly called, as loud as she could, "Here, Blackie, Blackie; here,
Banty, Banty; here, Gyp, Gyp," and as quick as a wink the animals came
running up to her.

At first she sat down, but all three of her pets got in her lap until
you could scarcely see Polly behind them. That would not do, of course,
because it was Polly's picture that was the most important.

Finally, she stood up and made her pets stand up, too. Then she had more
trouble, for Gyp wanted to stand next to her, and so did Banty, and so
did Blackie, but she told them if they were not good and did not stand
just where she put them, they could not have their pictures taken at
all. She even said she would get the little pig that could not find his
way home, and would have her picture taken with _him_. They did not like
that, so they promised to be good. She stood Banty on one side of her,
and Gyp on the other side, and then she put Blackie on one end next to
Banty. But Gyp and Blackie jumped around so lively that Brother Ned ran
into the house and brought out Polly's toy cow, and stood her next to
Blackie, and that kept _him_ quiet, because he was afraid the cow would
hook him with her horns--he did not know it was not a _real_ cow. Then
Ned brought out Polly's toy lion and put him next to Gyp, and that kept
_him_ quiet, because he thought the lion would eat him up,--he did not
know it was not a _real_ lion.

So, after they were all nice and quiet, Ned called out:

"Ready! Look pleasant! One, two, three--all over!"

And here is the way they looked in the picture that Ned took that
morning:

 [Illustration]

IDLE BEN

 Idle Ben was a naughty boy
 (If you please, this story's true),
 He caused his teachers great annoy,
 And his worthy parents, too.

 Idle Ben, in a boastful way
 To his anxious parents told
 That while he was young he thought he'd play,
 And he'd learn when he grew old.

 "Ah, Ben," said his mother, and dropped a tear,
 "You'll be sorry for this, by-and-by"
 Says Ben, "To me that's not very clear,
 But at any rate I'll try."

 So idle Ben, he refused to learn,
 Thinking that he could wait;
 But when he had his living to earn,
 He found it was just too late.

 Little girls, little boys, don't delay your work,
 Some day you'll be women and men.
 Whenever your task you're inclined to shirk,
 Take warning by idle Ben.

THE HOLE IN THE CANNA-BED

BY ISABEL GORDON CURTIS

One evening in May, Chuckie Wuckie's papa finished setting out the
plants in the front yard. Into one large bed he put a dozen fine cannas.
They looked like fresh young shoots of corn. He told Chuckie Wuckie that
when summer came they would grow tall, with great spreading leaves and
beautiful red-and-yellow blossoms.

"Taller than me, papa?" asked the little girl, trying to imagine what
they would look like.

"Much taller; as tall as I am."

Chuckie Wuckie listened gravely while papa told her she must be very
careful about the canna-bed. She must not throw her ball into it, or dig
there, or set a foot in the black, smooth earth. She nodded her head
solemnly, and made a faithful promise. Then she gathered up her tiny
rake and hoe and spade, and carried them to the vine-covered shed to put
beside her father's tools.

Next morning, when papa went to look at the canna-bed, he discovered
close beside one of the largest plants a snug, round hole. It looked
like a little nest. He found Chuckie Wuckie digging with an iron spoon
in the ground beside the fence.

 [Illustration: "PAPA TOLD HER SHE MUST BE VERY CAREFUL ABOUT THE
 CANNA-BED."]

"Dearie," he said, "do you remember I told you, last night, that you
must not dig in the canna-bed?"

"Yes," said the little girl.

"Come and see the hole I found there."

So Chuckie Wuckie trotted along at her father's heels. She stood
watching him as he filled in the hole and smoothed down the earth.

"I did not dig it," said Chuckie Wuckie. "I just came and looked to see
if the canna had grown any through the night, but I did not dig it."

"Really?" asked her papa, very gravely.

"Really and truly, I did not put my foot on there," said Chuckie Wuckie.

Papa did not say another word. But he could not help thinking that the
hole looked as if the iron spoon had neatly scooped it out.

Next morning he found the hole dug there again, and Chuckie Wuckie was
still busy in

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