Third reader. 155
Mr. L. What do yon do when it rains? 
B. If it rains very hard when I am in the field, I get under a
tree for shelter. 
Mr. L. What do you do, if you are hungry before it is time
to go home? 
B. I sometimes eat a raw turnip. 
Mr. L. But if there is none? 
B. Then I do as well as I can without.  I work on, and never
think of it. 
Mr. L. Why, my little fellow, I am glad to see that you are
so contented.  Were you ever at school? 
B. No, sir.  But father means to send me next winter. 
Mr. L. You will want books then. 
B. Yes, sir; each boy has a Spelling Book, a Reader, and a
Testament. 
Mr. L. Then I will give them to you.  Tell your father so,
and that it is because you are an obliging, contented little
boy. 
B. I will, sir.  Thank you. 
Mr. L. Good by, Peter. 
B. Good morning, sir. 
Dr. John Aiken

        156 Eclectic series.

Lesson LXI.

Little Gustava.

1.  Little Gustava sits in the sun,
Safe in the porch, and the little drops run
From the icicles under the eaves so fast,
For the bright spring sun shines warm at last,
And glad is little Gustava.

2.  She wears a quaint little scarlet cap,
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap,
Filled with bread and milk to the brim,
And a wreath of marigolds round the rim: 
“Ha! ha!” laughs little Gustava.

3.  Up comes her little gray, coaxing cat,
With her little pink nose, and she mews, “What’s that ?”
Gustava feeds her,—­she begs for more,
And a little brown hen walks in at the door: 
“Good day!” cries little Gustava.

4.  She scatters crumbs for the little brown hen,
There comes a rush and a flutter, and then
Down fly her little white doves so sweet,
With their snowy wings and their crimson feet: 
“Welcome!” cries little Gustava.

5.  So dainty and eager they pick up the crumbs.  But who is this through the doorway comes?

        Thirdreader. 157

Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags,
Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags: 
“Ha! ha!” laughs little Gustava.

6.  “You want some breakfast, too?” and down
She sets her bowl on the brick floor brown,
And little dog Rags drinks up her milk,
While she strokes his shaggy locks, like silk: 
“Dear Rags!” says little Gustava.

7.  Waiting without stood sparrow and crow, Cooling their feet in the melting snow.

        158 Eclectic series.

“Won’t you come in, good folk?” she cried,
But they were too bashful, and staid outside,
Though “Pray come in!” cried Gustava.

8.  So the last she threw them, and knelt on the mat,
With doves, and biddy, and dog, and cat. 
And her mother came to the open house door: 
“Dear little daughter, I bring you some more,
My merry little Gustava.”