Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Goat and Her Kid by Harriet Myrtle (little red riding hood ebook free TXT) 📖
- Author: Harriet Myrtle
Book online «The Goat and Her Kid by Harriet Myrtle (little red riding hood ebook free TXT) 📖». Author Harriet Myrtle
"But then," said Fanny, "what will the chaffinches do without a nest!"
"O, you don't understand," said Charles. "It is an empty nest, made last year. It has no owners now."
"Do get it, then, Timothy, please," cried Fanny.
Away went Timothy for the old chaffinch's nest, and Charles with him, while Fanny remained with the nestling, standing beside the wire lantern. They soon came back with the nest, which Fanny placed at the bottom of the lantern.
By this time Mrs. Dowse, the cook, came into the yard smiling, and bringing with her a saucer containing bread and milk and a quill, in order that the nestling should have some supper. "O, thank you, Mrs. Dowse," cried Fanny. "I had quite forgotten that he would want something to eat. Will you teach us how to feed him?"
Mrs. Dowse took the nestling in her left hand, and a quill full of bread and milk in the other, the nestling all the while making a great kicking and struggling and resistance, not knowing what in the world was going to be done to him. The first time, however, he opened his bill to give a loud chirrup, as much as to say, "What are you about with me, Mrs. Dowse?" the quick fingers of the smiling cook popped a quill full of bread and milk down his throat. In a moment he opened it wide for another! and wider still for another! and yet wider still for one more! There was an end of all his resistance. He had found out what Mrs. Dowse wanted to do to him, and was very much pleased at it. In this way he was fed every day by Fanny, who soon learned to manage it very neatly.
The papa of Charles and Fanny used to call the nestling "The Little Foundling," and so did their mamma, but Fanny and Charles also gave him the name of "Chirp." Poor little Chirp's feet did not get well. He still continued quite lame, as the bones of his claws had all been injured severely. In other respects he was very well; ate his food with a great appetite, and seemed contented and happy. His lantern was always hung in the pear-tree by the stable wall every fine day.
This little Foundling, however, was not the only bird in the house. Fanny's uncle had brought her a beautiful canary on her last birthday, and he was of the most graceful shape, the most delicate yellow color, and the most clear and joyful voice that ever were seen or heard. He lived in a large cage of bright brass wire, which had a circular top and three perches. One perch was just level with his long seed-box, and, in fact, led up to it; the second perch was in the middle of the cage, and the third was in the circular top, which arched over him in the shape of a bell. He often had groundsel and chickweed hung in the wires over head, to look like a bower; and opposite this top perch was a small looking-glass, in which he could see himself. He had a drinking-glass hung outside his cage at the bottom, and up in one corner a round bath-glass to wash in. Every morning he had his bath; then he took his breakfast; then he hopped up to the top perch under his bell-shaped bower, and set his feathers all to rights at his looking-glass; then he bowed to himself once or twice (fancying all the while he saw another canary in the glass); then he polished his bill upon the perch to complete his toilet; and then he sang himself a delightful song. His name was Dicky. He was quite a gentleman.
When the weather was fine, this very gentleman-like canary bird was always hung in a mulberry-tree. Whenever he found himself among all these beautiful green leaves he sang louder and more joyfully than ever. Fanny and Charles, therefore, thought it was a pity to leave the poor little Foundling so lonely in his pear-tree by the stable, and accordingly they brought his funny old lantern and hung it upon the next bough to the one that held the cage of the canary. And there all day the poor little ragged lame sparrow sat looking with earnest eyes of admiration at the beautiful canary, and listening with the greatest wonder and pleasure to his singing. He only now and then ventured, when the canary stopped to utter his "chirp! chirp!" as much as to say, "more! more!" They were hung up close together in this manner almost every day for a week or two. They looked at one another very much; the nestling sparrow evidently regarding the canary with great admiration, and the canary seeming to pity and be sorry for the poor little lame Foundling.
One day Fanny said to her brother, "Do you see, Charley, how these birds look at each other? I should so much like to put Chirp into Dicky's cage."
"I have been thinking of the very same thing," said Charles. "Let us run and ask mamma if we may do it."
Away they ran and asked.
"Why," said their mamma, "it certainly will have rather a strange appearance. The two birds do not seem suitable companions. It is an odd fancy, children; but you may do it if you like."
No sooner said than done. Off ran Fanny and Charles—took the little Foundling out of his old lantern—opened the door of Dicky's cage—and at once put him in, and fastened the door. In a moment, Dicky flew up to his top perch, and stood looking down very earnestly; and the little Foundling, though he could stump about on his lame toes, never moved, but sat looking up at Sir Dicky. The nestling looked like a poor little ragged lame beggar-boy whom a sprightly gentleman in a bright yellow coat had been so compassionate as to take into his house.
Presently the Foundling went to the seed-box, and looked in. Down came Dicky in a moment, and drove him away from his box, and then ascended again to the top perch. This happened every time poor Chirp went near the seed. However, he took a good drink out of the bath-glass, at which both Fanny and Charles laughed very much. They then gave the Foundling some food through the wires of the cage. This they had to do for several days, till Dicky at last became more good-natured, and no longer prevented the poor lame Foundling from eating out of his seed-box.
They gradually became very good friends in the cage, though Dicky, except for his bath and his seed, was almost always upon the perch in the middle or the top of the cage, while Chirp, who never recovered from his lameness, went stumping about at the bottom. In other respects, however, the Foundling grew to be a good, strong sparrow with all his proper feathers, and made a clean and respectable appearance. He now looked like a stout faithful servant in a brown coat who inhabited the lower story, while the gay and sprightly owner of the house sat in the upper rooms to sing, or dance upon two perches. They lived very happily, and Fanny and Charles rejoiced that they had brought home the little lame Foundling.
Winter Pleasures.
o jump up and look out at the trees," said Susan, one morning in December, to little Mary, "they are so beautiful; all sparkling like silver!"
"It seems very cold," said Mary, rather sleepily. "Will you draw up the blind, Susan, that I may see out?"
Susan drew up the blind.
"O," cried Mary, "how lovely the window looks! I see fairy palaces, and wreaths of flowers, and numbers of birds, and bright butterflies! O, and look at those angels, flying with white wings spread, and below them there is a lovely lake! Look, Susan, do you see what I mean?"
"I don't see that so plain," replied Susan; "but I see a pretty cottage just there, in the corner of this pane."
"O, yes!" said Mary; "and look, there is a high mountain behind it, and a forest of tall fir-trees growing all up the sides, and there is a river running along before it, with pretty flowers like stars on its banks. O, and little fairies dancing among them! Now it all sparkles like diamonds and rubies! Beautiful, beautiful!" cried Mary, jumping out of bed. The sun had just risen, and his beams, tinged with red, shone on little Mary's frosted window, and gave it this beautiful appearance.
"But it is much too cold to stand looking at it, dear," said Susan; "make haste, and let us get you down to the warm parlor fire."
Splash went Mary into her bath, and made all the haste possible; and while she was dressing, the window was a continual pleasure; for as the sun shone on the glass, small portions of the frost-work melted away, and let the bright rays shine through; and first these clear spots looked like little shining stars on the fairies' foreheads; then like stars in the sky; then they changed into pretty ponds in a wood; then into lakes with rocky banks; the angels seemed to fly farther away; the wreath of flowers took different forms; the fairies danced off with the birds and butterflies; and at last, just as the largest lake had become so large that Mary thought it must be the sea, it was time to go down stairs.
The parlor looked so very comfortable and felt so warm. There was a bright fire; Bouncer was stretched on the rug; the kettle boiled on the hob; breakfast was laid; the sun shone in at the lattice window. And now Mary, looking out into the garden, remembered what Susan had said about the trees, for they did indeed look beautiful. Every branch and every twig was incrusted over with crystals of white frost; they no longer appeared like common trees; no wood was to be seen; they seemed to have been changed by some fairy in the night into silver, and sprinkled with diamonds. The laurels and other evergreens had all their leaves covered and fringed round the edges with the same silvery, sparkling frost-work. The ivy-leaves near the window looked the best of all; their dark green color seemed to make the jewels shine more brightly, and then their pretty forms were shown off by all this ornament. As Mary was fancying herself in some fairy palace, or in Aladdin's garden, and wondering whether there was any fruit made of precious stones hanging on the trees, her papa and mamma came down to breakfast, and they all enjoyed the sight together. Mary's pretty cousin, Chrissy, who had been May-Queen on the first of May, was on a visit at the cottage, and when she came down, she was delighted too with the beautiful sight, and thought the branches like white coral tipped with diamonds.
While they were at breakfast, Mary asked the question which she had asked for several mornings past. It was, "Do you think Aunt Mary, and Thomas, and Willie will come to-day?"
"I think it quite possible that they may," said her mamma; "but to-morrow is more likely."
"You had better try not to expect them till to-morrow, Mary," said Chrissy.
"I will try," said Mary, "but I think I do expect them to-day. And now let me think how many days it is before Christmas Eve will come. Yesterday we counted it was eleven days, so to-day it is ten. Still ten days."
"But you know, Mary, we have plenty to do first," said her mamma. Mary nodded and smiled.
Christmas Eve was the day they kept at the cottage; because Mary's papa and mamma always spent Christmas Day with grandmamma. She lived in a large old house, in a country town ten
Comments (0)