The children’s father laughed as he helped their mother climb down from the chair.

“Well,” he said, “how did you enjoy Teddy’s scare box?”

—­GEORGENE FAULKNER.

THE GLAD NEW YEAR

  It’s coming, boys,
    It’s almost here. 
  It’s coming, girls,
    The grand New Year.

  A year to be glad in,
    Not to be sad in;
  A year to live in,
    To gain and give in.

  A year for trying,
    And not for sighing;
  A year for striving
    And healthy thriving.

  It’s coming, boys,
    It’s almost here. 
  It’s coming, girls,
    The grand New Year.

—­MARY MAPES DODGE.

[Illustration:  The goose and the hen]

MAKING THE BEST OF IT

“What a dreary day it is!” grumbled the old gray goose to the brown hen.  They were standing at the henhouse window watching the falling snow which covered every nook and corner of the farmyard.

“Yes, indeed,” said the brown hen.  “I should almost be willing to be made into a chicken pie on such a day.”

She had scarcely stopped talking when Pekin duck said fretfully, “I am so hungry that I am almost starved.”

A little flock of chickens all huddled together wailed in sad tones, “And we are so thirsty!”

In fact, all the feathered folk in the henhouse seemed cross and fretful.  It is no wonder they felt that way, for they had had nothing to eat or drink since early in the morning.  The cold wind howled around their house.  Hour after hour went by, but no one came near the henhouse.

The handsome white rooster, however, seemed as happy as usual.  That is saying a great deal, for a jollier old fellow than he never lived in a farmyard.  Sunshine, rain, or snow were all the same to him, and he crowed quite as merrily in stormy weather as in fair.

“Well,” he said, laughing, as he looked about the henhouse, “you all seem to be having a fit of dumps.”

Nobody answered the white rooster, but a faint cluck or two came from some of the hens.  They immediately put their heads back under their wings, however, as if ashamed of having spoken at all.

This was too much for the white rooster.  He stood first on one yellow foot and then on the other.  Turning his head from side to side, he said, “What’s the use of looking so sad?  Any one would think that you expected to be eaten by a band of hungry foxes.”

Just then a brave little white bantam rooster hopped down from his perch.  He strutted over to the big rooster and caused quite a flutter in the henhouse by saying: 

“We’re lively enough when our crops are full, but when we are starving, it is a wonder that we can hold our heads up at all.  If I ever see that farmer’s boy again, I’ll—­I’ll—­I’ll peck his foot!”