&&000 PROF. MCGUFFY'S 2ND GRADE READER (1896)      MCG8962N.ASC
AMERICAN BOOK CO  (who bought the rights)
2ND ECLECTIC READER   1879, 1896, 1907, 1920
Kutztown University (Pa.)
Xeroxed by LW; entered by Janice Mason March 15, 1993


&&111

  Her aunt laughed, and said, "A
basket will be better, I think."  So they
looked in the closets and the attic,
everywhere; but some of the baskets
were full, and some broken; not one
could they find that would do.
  Then Aunt =Annie turned out the
spools and the bags from a nice large
workbasket, and gave that to =Bessie.
"You may have this for your own," she
said, "to fill with earth, or flowers, or
anything you like."
  "Oh, thank you," said =Bessie, and
she danced away through the garden.
She slipped through the gate, out into
the field all starred with dandelions,
down in the hollow by the brook, then
up on the hillside out of sight among
the shady trees.
  How she worked that afternoon!
She heaped up the dark, rich earth,
and smoothed it over with her hands.
Then she dug up violets, and spring
beauties, and other flowers, running
back and forth, singing all the while.
  The squirrels peeped out of their
holes at =Bessie.  The birds sang in
the branches overhead.  Thump, came
something all at once into the middle
of the bed.  =Bessie jumped and upset
the basket, and away it rolled down
the hill.
  How =Bessie laughed when she saw
a big, brown toad winking his bright
eyes at her, as if he would say, "No
offense, I hope."
  Just then Bessie heard a bell 
ringing loudly.  She knew it was calling
her home; but how could she leave
her basket?  She must look for that
first.
  "Waiting, waiting, waiting," all at
once sang a bird out of sight among
the branches; "waiting, =Bessie."
  "Sure enough," said Bessie; "perhaps
I am making dear mother or auntie
wait; and they are so good to me.  I 
had better let the basket wait.  Take care
of it, birdie; and do not jump on my
flowers, =Mr. Toad.

  =Frank was a very talkative little
boy.  He never saw a new thing without
asking a great many questions
about it.
  His mother was very patient and
kind.  When it was proper to answer
his questions, she would do so.
  Sometimes she would say, "You
are not old enough to understand that,
my son.  When you are ten years old,
you may ask me about it, and I will
tell you."
  When his mother said this, he
never teased any more.  He knew she
always liked to answer him when he
asked proper questions.
  The first time =Frank saw an hourglass
he was very much amused; but
he did not know what it was.
  His mother said, "An hourglass is
made in the shape of the figure eight.
The sand is put in at one end, and
runs through a small hole in the middle.
As much sand is put into the glass as 
will run through in an hour.
  =Frank watched the little stream
of sand.  He was impatient, because it
would not run faster.  "Let me shake
it, mother," said he; "it is lazy, and will
never get through."



even when the branches nearly touched
them.
  The man who had been watching
all this, now began to wonder who had
set these branches adrift.  He looked
up the stream, and spied a fox slyly
watching the ducks.  "What will he do
next," thought the man?
  When the fox saw that the ducks
were no longer afraid of the branches,
he took a much larger branch than
any he had yet used, and stretched
himself upon it so as to be almost
hidden.  Then he set it afloat as he
had the others.
  Right among the flock drifted the
sly old fox, and, making quick snaps to
right and left, he seized two fine young
ducks, and floated off with them.
  The rest of the flock flew away in 
fright, and did not come back for
a long time.
  The fox must have had a fine 
dinner to pay him for his cunning,
patient work.


  The spider wears a plain brown dress,
   And she is a steady spinner;
  To see her, quiet as a mouse,
   Going about her silver house,
  You would never, never, never guess
   The way she gets her dinner.


  The tree said, "All these leaves
are getting ready to fly away, and they
have put on these colors because of
their joy."
  Then the little leaf began to want
to go, and grew very beautiful in thinking
of it.  When it was gay in colors,
it saw that the branches of the tree
had no bright colors on them.
 So the leaf said, "O branch! shy
are you lead-colored while we are all
beautiful and golden?"
 "We must keep on our working 
clothes," said the tree, "for our work
is not yet done; but your clothes are 
for holidays, because your task is now 
over."
 Just then a little puff of wind
came, and the leaf let go without thinking, 
and the wind took it up and turned 
it over and over.
 Then it fell gently down under 
the edge of the fence, among hundreds
of leaves, and has never waked to tell
us what it dreamed about.

"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day.
"Come, over the meadows with me, and play;
Put on your dress of red and gold, -
Summer is gone, and the days grow cold."

Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the soft little songs they knew.


 =Bounce lay on the grass, watching
the flies that buzzed around his nose,
and catching any that came too near.
 There were some logs floating in
the river near the shore.  =Willie jumped
upon one of them, to see if he could
throw a stone across the river.
 He drew back, and sent the stone
with all of his might.  Just as it left his
hand, the log turned, and he fell into
the water.
 He was very much frightened, for
he did not know how to swim, and 
there was no one to hear, though he
called as loud as he could for help.



 Poor little =Bounce gave a great
yelp of distress.  If he had been a
big water dog, he could have jumped in
and brought his master out.
 He ran up and down the bank
two or three times, barking, looking
first at =Willie and then around.  Then
he started, as fast as he could run, 
up the street to the store.
 When he got there the door was
shut, but he scratched against it and
barked loudly, until some one came 
and opened it.
 He caught hold of Mr =Brown's
clothes, then ran to the door, then
back again, catching at him, barking
and jumping.


 Her way of leaving her books and
playthings just where she had used them
last gave her mother much trouble in
picking them up and putting them in
their proper places.
 She had often told =Mary the evil
effects of being so careless.  Her books
became spoiled, and her toys broken.
 But worse than this was the growing
habit of carelessness, which would
be of great harm to her all of her life.
It would make her unhappy, and would
annoy her friends.
 One day =Mary and her mother
went out into their pleasant yard, to
spend an hour in the open air.  Mrs
=Armstrong took her work with her.
 =Mary ran about and played with
=Dash, her pet dog, and was having a 
happy time.
 But in a corner of the yard she
found her nicest doll all torn and
broken, and its dress covered with mud.
 She knew, at once, that =Dash had
done this, and she scolded him harshly.
 Carrying the broken dill to her
mamma, she showed it to her, and
could hardly keep from crying.
 Mrs. =Armstrong asked =Mary if
she had not left the doll on the porch
where =Dash could easily get it; and
=Mary had to answer, "Yes, ma'am."
 "Then you must not blame the
dog, =Mary, for he does not know it
is wrong for him to play with your
doll.  I hope this will be a lesson to
you hereafter, to put your things away
when you are through playing."
 "I will try," said =Mary.  And her
mother promised to mend the doll as
well as she could.


 Mr =Brown has done his day's
work, and his children, =Harry and
=Kate, have come home from school.
They learned their lessons well to-day,
and both feel happy.
 Tea is over.  Mrs =Brown has put
the little sitting room in order.  The fire
burns brightly.  One lamp gives light
enough for all.  One the stool is a basket
of fine apples.  They seem to say,
"Won't you have one?"
 =Harry and =Kate read a story in a
new book.  The father reads his newspaper,
and the mother mends =Harry's stockings.
 By and by, they will tell one another
what they have been reading about,
and will have a chat over the events of
the day.
 =Harry and =Kate's bedtime will come
first.  I think I see them kiss their
dear father and mother a sweet good
night.
 Do you not wish that every boy and 
girl could have a home like this?


 The boys have come out on the
porch to blow bubbles.  The old cat is
asleep on the mat by the door.
 "Ha,ha," laughs =Robert, as a bubble
comes down softly on the old cat's
back, and does not burst.