Tom The Water-Baby

       Once upon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom. That is a short name, and you have heard it before, so you will not have much trouble in remembering it. He lived in a great town in the North country, where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep. He could not read nor write, and did not care to do either; and he never washed himself, for there was no water up the court where he lived. He had never been taught to say his prayers. Tom and his master, Mr. Grimes, set out one morning for Harthover Place, where they were to sweep the chimneys. Mr. Grimes rode the donkey in front, and Tom and the brushes walked behind.

       Old Mrs. Earth was still fast asleep; and, like many pretty people, she looked still prettier asleep than awake. The great elm-trees in the gold-green meadows were fast asleep above, and the cows fast asleep beneath them; nay, the few clouds which were about were fast asleep likewise, and so tired that they had lain down on the earth to rest, in long white flakes and bars, among the stems of the elm-trees, and along the tops of the alders by the stream, waiting for the sun to bid them rise and go about their day's business in the clear blue overhead.

       Tom never had been so far into the country before; and longed to get over a gate, and pick buttercups; but Mr. Grimes was a man of business, and would not have heard of that.

       Soon they came up with a poor Irishwoman, trudgingalong with a bundle at her back. She had a gray shawl over her head, and a crimson madder petticoat. She had neither shoes nor stockings, and limped along as if she were tired and footsore; but she was a very tall, handsome woman, with bright gray eyes, and heavy black hair hanging about her cheeks. And she took Mr. Grimes's fancy so much, that when he came alongside he called out to her, "This is a hard road for a gradely foot like that. Will

ye up, lass, and ride behind me?"

       But, perhaps, she did not admire Mr. Grimes's look and voice; for she answered quietly, -

       "No, thank you; I'd sooner walk with your little lad here."

       "You may please yourself," growled Mr. Grimes, and went on.

       So she walked beside Tom, and asked him where he lived, and all about himself, till Tom thought he had never met such a pleasant-spoken woman.

       And she asked him, at last, whether he said his prayers; and seemed sad when he told her that he knew no prayers to say.

       Then he asked her where she lived; and she said far away by the sea that lay still in bright summer days, for the children to bathe and play in it; and Tom longed to go and see the sea and bathe in it.

       At last they came to a spring, bubbling and gurgling, so clear that you could not tell where the water ended and the air began.

       There Grimes stopped, got off his donkey, and clambered over the low road-wall, and knelt down, and began dipping his ugly head into the spring; and very dirty he made it.

       Tom was picking the flowers as fast as he could. The Irishwoman helped him. But when he saw Grimes actually wash, he stopped, quite astonished; and when Grimes had finished, and began shaking his ears to dry them, he said, 

       "Why, master, I never saw you do that before."

       "Nor will again, most likely. 'Twasn't for cleanliness I did it, but for coolness. I'd be ashamed to want washing every week or so, like any smutty collier-lad."

       "I wish I might go and dip my head in," said poor little Tom. "It must be as good as putting it under the town-pump; and there is no beadle here to drive a chap away."

       "Thou come along," said Grimes. "What dost want with washing thyself?"

       Grimes was very sulky, because the woman preferred Tom's company to his; and he began beating him.

       "Are you not ashamed of yourself, Thomas Grimes?" cried the Irishwoman, over the wall.

       Grimes seemed quite cowed, and got on his donkey without another word.

       "Stop!" said the Irishwoman. "I have one more word, Those that wish to be clean, clean they will be; and those that wish to be foul, foul they will be. REMEMBER"

       How many chimneys Tom swept at Harthover Place I cannot say: but he swept so many that he got quite tired, and lost his way in them; and coming down, as he thought, the right chimney, he came down the wrong one, and found himself standing on the hearth-rug in a room the like of which he had never seen before.

       The room was all dressed in white: white window-curtains, white bed-curtains, white chairs and white walls, with just a few lines of pink here and there.

       The next thing he saw was a washing-stand, with ewers and basins, and soap and brushes, and towels; and a large bath full of clean water. And then, looking toward the bed, he held his breath with astonishment.

       Under the snow-white coverlet, upon the snow-white pillow, lay the most beautiful little girl that Tom had ever seen. Her cheeks were almost as white as the pillow, and her hair was like threads of gold spread all about over the bed.

       She never could have been dirty, thought Tom to himself. And then he thought, "And are all people like that when they are washed?" And he looked at his own wrist, and tried to rub the soot off, and wondered whether it ever would come off. "Certainly I should look much prettier, if I grew at all like her."

       And looking round, he suddenly saw, standing close to him, a little, ugly, black, ragged figure, with bleared eyes and grinning white teeth. He turned on it angrily. What did such a little black ape want in that sweet young lady's room.'' And behold, it was himself reflected in a great mirror, the like of which Tom had never seen before.

       And Tom, for the first time in his life, found out that he was dirty; and burst into tears with shame and anger; and turned to sneak up the chimney again and hide, and upset the fender, and threw the fire-irons down, with a great noise.

       Under the window spread a tree, with great leaves, and sweet white flowers, and Tom went down the tree like a cat, and across the garden towards the woods.

       The under-gardener, mowing, saw Tom, and threw down his scythe, and gave chase to poor Tom. The dairy-maid heard the noise, jumped up and gave chase to Tom. A groom ran out, and gave chase to Tom. Grimes upset the soot-sack in the new-gravelled yard, and spoilt it all utterly; but he ran out, and gave chase to Tom. The ploughman left his horses at the headland, and one jumped over the

fence, and pulled the other into the ditch, plough and all; but he ran on and gave chase to Tom. Sir John looked out of his study-window (for he was an early old gentleman), and he ran out, and gave chase to Tom. The Irish-woman, too, was walking up to the house to beg; she must have got round by some by-way; but she threw away her bundle, and gave chase to Tom likewise.

       Tom ran on and on, and when he stopped to look around, he said, "Why, what a big place the world is;" for he was far away from Harthover, having left the gardener, and the dairy-maid, and the groom, and Sir John, and Grimes, and the ploughman all behind him.

       Through the wood he could see a clear stream glance, and far, far away the river widened to the shining sea, and this is the song Tom heard the river sing: 

"Clear and cool, dear and cool,

By laughing shallow, and dreaming pool;

Cool and clear, cool and clear.

By shining shingle, and foaming wear;

Under the crag where the ouzel sings.

And the ivied wall where the church bell rings,

Undefiled, for the undefiled;

Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.

Strong and free, strong and free,

The floodgates are open, away to the sea ;

Free and strong, free and strong.

Cleansing my streams as I hurry along ;

To the golden sands, and the leaping bar.

And the taintless tide that awaits me afar,

As I lose myself in the infinite main,

Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again.

Undefiled, for the undefiled ;

Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.

       Then he fell asleep and dreamed that the little white lady called to him "Oh, you're so dirty; go and be washed;" and then he heard the Irishwoman say: "Those that wish to be clean, clean they will be.'' And all of a sudden he found himself, between sleep and awake, in the middle of the meadow saying continually, "I must be clean, I must be clean." And he went to the bank of the brook and lay down on the grass and looked into the clear water, and dipped his hand in and found it so cool, cool, cool; and he said again, "I must be clean, I must be clean." And he put his poor, hot, sore feet into the water; and then his legs. "Ah," said Tom, "I must be quick and wash myself."

        And all the while he never saw the Irishwoman: not behind him this time, but before.

       For just before he came to the river-side, she had stepped down into the cool, clear water; and her shawl and her petticoat floated off her, and the green water-weeds floated round her sides, and the white water-lilies floated round her head, and the fairies of the stream came up from the bottom, and bore her away and down upon their arms; for she was the Queen of them all ; and perhaps of more besides.

       "Where have you been?'' they asked her.

       "I have been smoothing sick folk's pillows, and whispering sweet dreams into their ears; opening cottage casements, to let out the stifling air; coaxing little children away from gutters and foul pools; doing all I can to help those who will not help themselves: and little enough that is, and weary work for me. But I have brought you a new little brother, and watched him safe all the way here."

       But Tom did not see nor hear this, for he had not been in the water two minutes before he fell fast asleep, into the quietest, sunniest, coziest sleep that he ever had in his life. The reason of his delightful sleep is very simple: the fairies had taken him.

       Ah, now comes the most wonderful part of this wonderful story. Tom, when he woke, - for of course he woke; children always wake after they have slept exactly as long as is good for them, ‚ -found himself turned into a water-baby.

       And now happened to Tom a most wonderful thing; he came upon a water-baby.

       A real, live water-baby, sitting on the white sand, very busy about a little point of rock. And when it saw Tom, it looked up for a moment, and then cried, "Why, you are not one of us. You are a new baby! Oh, how delightful!"

       And it ran to Tom, and Tom ran to it, and they hugged and kissed each other for ever so long, they did not know why.

       At last Tom said, "Oh, where have you been all this while?"

       "We have been here for days and days. There are hundreds of us about the rocks."

       "Now," said the baby, "come and help me, or I shall not have finished before my brothers and sisters come, and it is time to go home."

       "What shall I help you at?"

       "At this poor, dear little rock; a great, clumsy boulder came rolling by in the last storm, and knocked all its head off, and rubbed off all its flowers. And now I must plant it again with sea-weeds, and I will make it the prettiest little rock-garden on all the shore."

       So they worked away at the rock, and planted it and smoothed the sand down round it, and capital fun they had till the tide began to turn. And then Tom heard all the other babies coming, laughing and singing and shouting and romping; and the noise they made was just like the noise of the ripple.

       And in they came, dozens and dozens of them, some bigger than Tom and some smaller, all in the neatest little white bathing-dresses; and when they found that he was a new baby, they hugged him and kissed him, and then put him in the middle and danced round him on the sand, and there was no one ever so happy as poor little Tom.

       "Now then," they cried all at once, "we must come away home, we must come away home, or the tide will leave us dry. We have mended all the broken sea-weed, and put all the rock-pools in order, and planted all the shells again in the sand, and nobody will see where the storm swept in last week."

       And this is the reason why the rock-pools are always so neat and clean; because the water-babies come in shore after every storm to sweep them out, and comb them down, and put them all to rights again.

Coming And Going

       There came to our fields a pair of birds that had never built a nest nor seen a winter. How beautiful was everything! The fields were full of flowers, and the grass was growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere. Then one of the birds began singing, and the other bird said, "Who told you to sing?" And he answered, "The flowers told me, and the bees told me, and the winds and leaves told me, and the blue sky told me, and you told me to sing." Then his mate answered, "When did I tell you to sing?" And he said, " Every time you brought in tender grass for the nest, and every time your soft wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to line the nest." Then his mate said, "What are you singing about?" And he answered,  I am singing about everything and nothing. It is because I am so happy that I sing."

       By and by five little speckled eggs were in the nest, and his mate said, " Is there anything in all the world as pretty as my eggs?'' "Then they both looked down on some people that were passing by and pitied them because they were not birds.

       In a week or two, one day, when the father-bird came home, the mother-bird said, "Oh, what do you think has happened?" "What?" "One of my eggs, has been peeping and moving!" Pretty soon another moved under her feathers, and then another and another, till five little birds were hatched! Now the father-bird sang louder and louder than ever. The mother-bird, too, wanted to sing, but she had no time, and so she turned her song into work. So hungry were these little birds that it kept both parents busy feeding them. Away each one flew. The moment the little birds heard their wings fluttering among the leaves, five yellow mouths flew open wide, so that nothing could be seen but five yellow mouths!

       "Can anybody be happier?'' " said the father-bird to the mother-bird. "We will live in this tree always, for there is no sorrow here. It is a tree that always bears joy."

       Soon the little birds were big enough to fly, and great was their parents' joy to see them leave the nest and sit crumpled up upon the branches. There was then a great time! The two old birds talking and chatting to make the young ones go alone! In a little time they had learned to use their wings, and they flew away and away, and found their own food, and built their own nests, and sang their own songs of joy.

       Then the old birds sat silent and looked at each other, until the mother-bird said, "Why don't you sing?" And he answered, "I can't sing - I can only think and think." "What are you thinking of?'' "I am thinking how everything changes: the leaves are falling off from this tree, and soon there will be no roof over our heads; the flowers are all going; last night there was a frost; almost all the birds are flown away. Something calls me, and I feel as if I would like to fly far away."

       "Let us fly away together!"

       Then they rose silently, and, lifting themselves far up in the air, they looked to the north: far away they saw the snow coming. They looked to the south: there they saw flowers and green leaves! All day they flew; and all night they flew and flew, till they found a land where there was no winter - where flowers always blossom, and birds always sing. by Henry Ward Beecher.

Mary Had A Little Lamb

       Mary had one little lamb. Mary's father had a hundred little lambs. Mary's lamb could not stay in the house with her all of the time; it stayed out in the meadow, with the other little lambs and sheep, most of the time. When Mary went to look at all the lambs playing together, she could not tell surely which was her own until she called, "Pet, Pet!" As soon as she spoke, her lamb would come bounding toward her, and would go with her wherever she ,went. When she had to go home to go to bed, she would shut the gate between her and her lamb, and then kiss the lamb's woolly head through the bars, telling him, "Good night; be sure to be awake when I go to school in the morning." A part of Mary's path to school was beside the meadow, and the lamb always went as far as he could with her; when she turned the corner so he could go no further, he always put his head through the fence for Mary to give him a good-by hug and a kiss, and as long as he could see her he would cry "baa, baa"; but when she was quite out of sight, he would go to play with the other lambs, no doubt thinking that a hundred lambs were almost as good playfellows as one little girl.

       One day all the sheep were taken from the meadow and driven down the road past the schoolhouse, the lambs being left alone. Mary was afraid something might happen to her lamb, left with so many frisky little creatures without a mother-sheep to tell them not to turn heels over head. Mary's father had told her she might bring her lamb down past the schoolhouse at noon and see what they were doing with the old sheep; so Mary let the lamb follow her to school in the morning, though her father did not mean she should do so. It really was no harm, and I am sorry "it made the children laugh and play," so that the teacher had to turn the lamb out of doors. But just as soon as school closed, Mary ran out, and hugging the woolly little lamb, said, "You dear, patient little Pet! now we will take a walk"; and away they went down the road toward the river. Very soon they heard all sorts of baas, big, coarse baas, pretty, soft baas, and coarse and soft baas all mingled together. (Children can easily produce the sound.)

       It was a strange sight that Mary and Pet saw. Some men were carrying the sheep into the water and were washing their warm woolly coats in the clear, cool river. Mary asked her father if she might wash her lamb, and her father said she might wash his face and see how he liked that. Mary took off her shoes and stockings and waded into the water. Mary's lamb splashed in after her, and when his face had been neatly washed, Mary's father said the day was so warm that she might wash all of her lamb's wool. What fun they had! The lamb enjoyed it quite as much as Mary did. Mary was afraid the dust would get into the damp wool and make her lamb look more untidy than if he had not been washed, so she took off her apron, and putting the lamb's fore-legs through the sleeves, started home ; but the lamb would not stir a step while dressed in that way, and Mary took the sleeves off his legs and tied them in a pretty bow-knot under his chin; this seemed to please him much better, for he now trotted briskly ahead of her a part of the way home. I wish you had been at that schoolhouse when Mary and her lamb went past; the teacher and all the children were eating their luncheon out under the trees, and they laughed as you or I would laugh, to see a lamb dressed in a girl's apron.

       When all the old sheep had been in the sunny meadow a few days after their bath in the river, their thick coats of wool had become quite dry, and they were taken to the barn, where the farmers cut off their wool every summer. Mary and her lamb went too. Mary said her lamb ought to be taught to keep very quiet while being sheared, and her father said the best-behaved lambs always made the best sheep; so Mary taught her lamb to keep its feet quite still while she played that she cut its wool all off to make herself a dress. Some of the wool from a mother-sheep was made into a ball for Mary to hang round Pet's neck so she could tell him from the other lambs, and Mary had a dress, a hood, a pair of mittens, and some stockings made from the wool that was cut from the sheep's backs that day. Mary took a pair of scissors and clipped a tiny lock of wool from Pet's back, and tying it with a blue ribbon, put it in a box marked : "Pet's first wool; washed and cut off by Mary."

Disc and The Cats Now Eat Together!

Dear Children,

       Just as I expected, little Disc has had trouble with the kittens. We undertook to feed Disc and the cats from the same dish. The cats did not like the looks of Disc. Now, Disc does not look like a cat, still he has four legs and four feet, two eyes, and one tail just like a cat; but he looks more like a little baby cub bear. Well, Disc went to helping himself, and in his great hurry picked out the biggest piece of meat on the plate. The old mother cat lifted her paw and gave the dog a slap on his ear; but Disc paid no attention to the lick as his coat of hair is very thick, pussy did not hurt him. Then she bowed her back and arched her tail, and said something that all the rest of the cats understood, and then about three stuck their claws into him at once. Disc saw at once that there were too many cats for one little dog, and as there were no other little dogs near, he got close to the floor, turned his head away from the cats, and put his paws up over his ears, as if to say, come on, and thus ended the first fight. When dinner came, Disc was on hand. The food was emptied in a large dish, but neither dog nor cats seemed hungry. Disc looked at the dish and made a move as if to help himself, when old puss raised her paw as if to strike; then Disc raised his paw and ducked his head; puss made a lick at him and he dodged it; then the old mother cat gave a scream, and all at once every cat looked like a fighter. Disc growled, and every cat bent their backs almost double. Old puss then said something, and all at once every cat jumped at the little bear dog. Disc snapped and snarled ; he just bit right and left; every cat was doing their very best to whip poor little Disc. He turned and twisted, sometimes on his back and then on his stomach. Sometimes he had his head in front and sometimes his tail. Disc got hold of one of the best fighters that old pussy had, and the cat cried like a little whipped boy. Some of the cats kept up their spite and spit. Cat fur and dog hair lay around in patches. Disc was fighting for his dinner and would not give up. The cats now saw that this was a lost cause, and left in a hurry, and now Disc and the cats eat out of the same dish, but Disc eats first.

Love, Grandpa.

Puppies feed together at a pinwheel feeding dish.

The donkey and the dog pull a cart...

Dear Children,

       There was a letter in the mail today from your Mama, in which she said the church was getting ready for "Children's Day." You just tell your Mama that the church ought to be ready all the time. When you get older, I want you to read that story in the Bible where five people started out in the dark, without any coal oil in their lamps. And then there is another story that ought to have been in the Good Book; it tells about a man with a lantern looking all around for an honest man.

       There was a funny thing happened today, in the street, right in front of our house. Some boys hitched up a dog and a goat to a little wagon. Now, this kind of a team did not match. That is one did not look very much like the other. I think the goat was older than the dog, because of his beard. They had harness and bridles and lines on them. The boys had a whip, but they didn't need a whip. The team did not seem to know what was said to them. The dog's name was Tray, and the goat didn't have any name at all, and if he ever had a name, he didn't want anybody to know it, for he had been caught in bad company. The dog went entirely too fast for the goat. The dog was a loper, and the Billy Goat was a pacer. The dog barked, but I could not hear what the goat did say about it ; almost sounded like swearing. The dog was going too fast for Billy; so when they came to the street corner, the dog tried to turn alright but Billy tried his best to go straight on, and this didn't last long. The wagon smashed into a gate that was hanging open on the sidewalk, and here the driver was thrown out; but it never hurt him until he struck the ground. Billy had gotten himself turned around in the harness, and seemed as if he wanted to go somewhere, and the dog appeared as if he intended going somewhere else. Just at this time three more dogs came along, and Billy did not seem to be in a very good humor about something, so he reared and plunged, and finally broke his bridle, and started pell-mell down the street; sometimes the goat was ahead, and sometimes the dog. The goat got behind, but some way caught up. On turning the next corner, the wagon upset, and who do you think was coming up the sidewalk, just at this time? Well, it was Grandma, and, among other things, she had a basket of apples carrying along at arms length, and as the dog and goat passed her, the wagon was still coming on, and when it passed her the basket of apples was in the way, and now I am sure she won't ask me to go to prayer meeting with her again for at least two weeks.

Love, Grandpa.

Dixie, a professional cart goat.

A letter from Grandpa about Easter eggs and ducks

Then one little fellow said, "Mister, will you sell me a hen; maybe she will lay us some red eggs.‚"

Dear Children:

       I am going to write something about Easter eggs and ducks. Two little boys came into our house this morning and wanted to buy some Easter eggs - the kind that their Grandma bought of us last week; but we did not have the kind that suited. They wanted blue eggs and red eggs, and all kinds of colored eggs. They said that Grandma told them that our hens laid all kinds of colored eggs. Their sadness at the thought of getting no blue and red eggs was so great that I thought their little hearts would break and bleed. I would have given a dollar apiece for just two colored eggs, rather than to have looked into their little faces and said no. Then one little fellow said, "Mister, will you sell me a hen; maybe she will lay us some red eggs.‚" I took these little men to a corner grocery and bought each of them the biggest stick of red-striped candy I could find.

       I drove to the country yesterday. I wish every little boy and girl could live in the country. There are so many things to see. Everything we eat and wear grows in the country. Nearly all of the hen's nests are in the country, and nearly all the bird's nests are there. Nearly all the good apples grow in the country, and it beats all how much home-made fun a boy can have at his Grandpa's home on a farm. Where do all the cows come from, and the little bossies? They all grow up in the country; and oh, so many flowers! I tell you children, Easter only comes once a year; but flowers last all Summer, and just keep on coming. Yesterday, we stopped at a farm house to keep out of the rain. Mrs. Nelson had an old mother duck, and ten little ducks; and she declared they would drown if they stayed out in the rain. So, out she went hunting for the ducks, and after hunting an hour she found old mother duck and her little ducks swimming in a big pond of water in a pasture near the house. The feathers are so thick and close on a duck that they can stay in the water all day and not get wet, and their feet are so wide that they can push themselves along through the water like so many little boats.

Love, Grandpa.

 

Chickens that lay Easter eggs? 

 

 Now you can see what the goose and the rooster saw in the barnyard by connecting the dots...

Connect the dots by counting 1, 2, 3...44.

Easter Index/ Previous Page/ Next Page

"The Doll Party" letter from grandpa

Dear Children,

       Papa's letter came this morning. I was disappointed in his dog story. I don't suppose  he had a dog when he was a boy, as he had nothing to say about ever having been rabbit hunting when he was young; he surely was a boy, even if it was a long time ago.

       If he ever went rabbit hunting he ought to remember all about it. Your Papa could not have been a very big boy or very old when he was born, else he would know more about dogs, or perhaps, he lived in one of the big towns, about which I am going to write you, sometime, where dogs were not allowed to stay.

       Now, there are about as many little girls in the world as there are little boys, at any rate a good little girl is better than a half dozen bad boys. I am going to write something about dolls. I do not know how many little dollies there are in the world, but there are a great many. I don't know all about how dolls are made, still I do know that they are made, and made mostly for children. Of course, I mean little girls, and I have never met a little girl in all this great big round world but who at some time or other had a little dolly. I wish I could tell you about all the different kind of dolls I have seen, and there are so many pretty names for dolls. Little girls have about as many names for dollies as boys have names for their dogs. You should never give a doll more than one name. Dolls do not know much about names, anyhow, even a short name will in most cases last as long as a dolly does.

       I must tell you about a doll party that your Mama gave when she was a little girl. A great many invitations were sent out; in fact, every little girl in the village was invited, and every little girl came bringing with her one or more dolls. A doll supper was prepared, and, although nearly every dolly came with a new bib or apron of some kind on, not a dolly opened its mouth, and I am going to let you guess who ate the nuts and figs and raisins and other good things. At this doll party, there were many little childish games played, and after supper the dolls were arranged for some kind of services, so they finally agreed to have a doll meeting, and the dollies were seated in chairs, a pulpit was put in shape, made up of some paper boxes; but who would preach? It did not seem well to have a lady doll for a preacher, so a little boy who chanced to happen in, bethought himself that he could supply the needed minister. So, he presented the party the use of his Jumping Jack. "This," said one little girl, "will be just the thing," and they all shouted, "That's all right;" but the Jumping Jack would neither stand up nor lay down, would not sit cross-legged nor look sad; so after several vain efforts on the part of the children to have a church meeting for their dolls, one little girl thoughtfully said: "Girls, this awkward Jack will not do for a preacher for our little dollies, but I‚'ll tell you what we can do - we can make an Evangelist out of him."

       I don't know yet what I am going to write about next time, as much will depend on how Grandma's corns are getting along, and whether she has good luck with her mince pies.

Love, Grandpa.

How to make a jumping jack doll with your grandchild...

A letter about a new dog

Dear Children,

       I am going to tell you something about our new dog. We call him new, because he is not old. I expect forty days would cover all the time he has lived. So far he has had no birthday. I once heard of a great dog party in a great city. There were one hundred and twenty dogs present, and the dinner cost somebody four dollars for each little doggie, and while this dinner was going on on the inside there was a number of Grandchildren in the street crying for bread.

       I don't know much about dog parties, still I remember when your Mama lived at home, she never gave any more birthday parties after she was twenty-six years old.

       You know, Children, that dogs, like people, are not all alike. They are not all the same size or same shape or same color.

       Our dog looks like a little bear, only he is not a bear. He is about the color of a ginger cake, but he is not a ginger cake; in the face he has fur that is a bit darker.

       Our dog is about four inches long, six inches wide; his tail is fully seven inches long and leans over against his back.

       Our dog is a good little boy when allowed to do as he pleases, except when he is shut up in the dog house, and then he talks all kinds of dog talk; but I don't understand a word he says. When he barks I think he is laughing, and when he wags his tail, then he is trying to tell that he is hungry.

       I know some Grandchildren that always cry when they want something to eat. Our dog is not as large as a lion, still, he is bigger than a small cat. We call him all kinds of pet names; so one day Grandma said we must call him some real sure name, and she named him Disc. At first I did not like the name; but she said she got the record from our new graphophone, and, I suppose, now, that Disc will be in tune as long as the Record lasts. Mr. Benson says Disc is one-half Shepherd, but could not say what the other half was, so I just made up my mind that the other half was dog.

       Our dog came sixty miles in a car; was in the express office all night without a bite of anything to eat, not even a drink of cold water. The express man said the dog cried all night, and while little doggie was crying, the man was acting doggedly mean, as he was still growling the next morning.

       I asked him how he would like to be shut up in an empty box all night, and nothing to eat or drink. I hope every good little boy in the world has a good dog. I would rather all my Grandchildren would play with good dogs than bad boys.

       Now, when your Papa writes, have him tell all about your dog, as I am writing letters to a great many Grandchildren, and I want to tell them all about your dog.

Love, Grandpa.

Grandma and Grandpa named their new dog, "Disc" after their new graphophone.

Grandparent's Day Index

Grandparent's Day is frequently celebrated in early learning
centers and kindergartens across the United States. It is a day
for young students to give their grandparents a tour of their
school environment.

       Grandparents are the parents of a person's father or mother – paternal or maternal. In cases where parents are unwilling or unable to provide adequate care for their children (e.g., death of the parents), grandparents often take on the role of primary caregivers. Even when this is not the case, and particularly in traditional cultures, grandparents often have a direct and clear role in relation to the raising, care and nurture of children. Grandparents are second-degree relatives and share 25% genetic overlap.

       National Grandparents Day is a secular holiday celebrated in the United States of America and the United Kingdom since 1978 and officially recognized in a number of countries on various days of the year, either as one holiday or sometimes as a separate Grandmothers' Day and Grandfathers' Day. It is celebrated on the first Sunday following Labor Day, September 10th. in the United States.
      During the week that follows September 10th, young children often spend time with their grandparents at school. Because the holiday falls at the beginning of the school year, there is little time for their teachers to plan elaborate shows or exhibits. So it has become a customary time for sharing the daily routines of young school children with their older visitors.
       Craft or reading activities emphasizing family are often planned in advance by the school sponsor or PTO for these holiday visits.

Crafts for Grandparents Day:

• My Family Tree Craft for Grandparent's Day
• The "Love" Canvas - How to with hand and foot prints of child
• Potted Plant with children's photo flowers
• Grandma's "Tweet" Hearts - kid's footprint canvas
  

Little Louise and Her Grandmother,
Frances Cordelia McDowell.

Poems About Grandmothers by Lillie Gilliland McDowell:

1. When Grandma Sews
2. Grandma's Aprons
3. Cuddle Time
4. Grandma's Errands
5. Grandma's Little Girl
6. Herb Tea
7. Tea at Grandma's
8. When Grandma Knits
9. A "Blue" Story
10. Christmas Secrets
11. Dancing Dolls
12. Heigh-ho. 'Tis Her Way!
13. Girls Will Be Girls
14. When Grandma Comfys Me
15. Out At Grandma's
16. My Grandma's Getting Old, They Say
17. Fellow Feeling
18. What Kind of Grandma Do You Like?
19. Grandma's Stories
20. A Tea Party
21. When Grandma Loses Her Specs
22. G-R-A-N-D-M-A
23. Contrast
24. I'll Be Your Valentine
25. Two Proverbs
26. The Old Sampler
27. When Grandma Tucks Me In
28. A Pertinent Question
29. The Way Out
30. The Old And The New
31. When Grandma Was a Little Girl
32. Counting The Baby's Toes
33. Grandma's Young Days
34. Grandma's Hygiene
35. Grandma's Prayer
36. Loneliness
37. When Grandma Punished Me
38. Grandma's Lullaby
39. The Old Willow Basket
40. Retrospect
41. Grandmother's Garden
    

More Poets Write About Grandparents:

1. For Grandma
2. Grandpa
3. Grandpa's Glasses
4. To a Grandmother

A collection of letters written by a grandparents to grandchildren. I have edited some of these and updated spelling. Use them in a literacy unit or read them aloud for fun. (Letters by children telling Valentine stories here.)

1. A letter about a new dog...
2. "The Doll Party" letter from grandpa
3. A letter from Grandpa about Easter eggs and ducks 
4. The donkey and the dog pull a cart... 
5. Disc and The Cats Now Eat Together! 
6. A letter about Grandpa's childhood

Grandparents Online:

• thespruce: Sharing books with long-distance grandchildren 
• GRAND magazine - free online magazine for grandparents
• Christian Grandparenting Network

Tea at Grandma's

Tea at Grandma's

When I go to my Grandma's house, she plays I'm

company,

And takes my wraps with such an air and says:

"You'll stay to tea?"

She gets out her best silver, then-great-Grandma

Winslow's plate-

And all her pretty china, and we eat in grandest

state.

But when I'm done, although she's made for me

all that to-do,

She says: "There childie, run along, so Big Dark

won't catch you."

Cuddle Time

Cuddle Time

Each morning, soon as I'm awake,

Before my prayer is said,

Or 'fore I'm ever dressed at all,

I climb in Grandma's bed.

I put my arms about her neck,

She puts her arms 'round me;

And I just lie so comfy there,

While Grandma cuddles me.

She talks to me so soft and low,

About this "clean, new day";

And what I'd ought to put in it.

Of study, work and play.

It really is the queerest thing,

But true as true can be;

It's easy to be good all day,

'Cause Grandma cuddled me.

Grandma's Aprons

Grandma's Aprons

Of mornings, till her work is clone,

She wears a great big gingham one.

It covers her from waist to shoe,

And if she ever had to do

Without it, 'xpect she'd sigh and say,

"I really cannot work to-day."

But after-noons, when work is done,

She wears a nice white starchy one,

With cunning little bows in place,

Or maybe it's all trimmed in lace.

She looks so sweet in this, I say,

"My ! but you're all fixed up to-day."

I wonder, when I look at her,

Which of the aprons I prefer.

The white one is so nice and neat.

The gingham means good things to eat.

But ask me, and I'd likely say,

"I love her most dressed either way."