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MRS. LESLIE'S BOOKS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN.

THE LITTLE FRANKIE SERIES.




BOOKS WRITTEN OR EDITED

By A. R. BAKER,

AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS.

QUESTION BOOKS on the Topics of Christ's Sermon on the Mount.

          VOL. I. FOR CHILDREN.
          VOL. II. FOR YOUTH.
          VOL. III. FOR ADULTS.

          LECTURES ON THESE TOPICS, _in press_.


MRS. LESLIE'S SABBATH SCHOOL BOOKS.

          TIM, THE SCISSORS GRINDER.
          SEQUEL TO "TIM, THE SCISSORS GRINDER."
          PRAIRIE FLOWER.
          THE BOUND BOY.
          THE BOUND GIRL.
          VIRGINIA.
          THE TWO HOMES; OR, EARNING AND SPENDING.
          THE ORGAN-GRINDER, _in press_.


QUESTION BOOKS. The Catechism tested by the Bible.

          VOL. I. FOR CHILDREN.
          VOL. II. FOR ADULTS.


THE DERMOTT FAMILY; or, Stories Illustrating the Catechism.

          VOL. I. DOCTRINES RESPECTING GOD AND MANKIND.
           "  II. DOCTRINES OF GRACE.
           " III. COMMANDMENTS OF THE FIRST TABLE.
           "  IV. COMMANDMENTS OF THE SECOND TABLE.
           "   V. CONDITIONS OF ETERNAL LIFE.


MRS. LESLIE'S HOME LIFE.

          VOL. I. CORA AND THE DOCTOR.
           "  II. COURTESIES OF WEDDED LIFE.
           " III. THE HOUSEHOLD ANGEL.


MRS. LESLIE'S JUVENILE SERIES.

          VOL. I. THE MOTHERLESS CHILDREN.
           "  II. PLAY AND STUDY.
           " III. HOWARD AND HIS TEACHER.
           "  IV. TRYING TO BE USEFUL.
           "   V. JACK, THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER.
           "  VI. THE YOUNG HOUSEKEEPER.
           " VII. LITTLE AGNES.


THE ROBIN REDBREAST SERIES.

          THE ROBINS' NEST.
          LITTLE ROBINS IN THE NEST.
          LITTLE ROBINS LEARNING TO FLY.
          LITTLE ROBINS IN TROUBLE.
          LITTLE ROBINS' FRIENDS.
          LITTLE ROBINS' LOVE ONE TO ANOTHER.


THE LITTLE FRANKIE SERIES.

          LITTLE FRANKIE AND HIS MOTHER.
          LITTLE FRANKIE AT HIS PLAYS.
          LITTLE FRANKIE AND HIS COUSIN.
          LITTLE FRANKIE AND HIS FATHER.
          LITTLE FRANKIE ON A JOURNEY.
          LITTLE FRANKIE AT SCHOOL.

[Illustration: FRANKIE IN HIS JUMPER.]





LITTLE FRANKIE AND HIS MOTHER.

          BY
          MRS. MADELINE LESLIE,

          AUTHOR OF "THE HOME LIFE SERIES;" "MRS. LESLIE'S
          JUVENILE SERIES," ETC.

          BOSTON:
          CROSBY AND NICHOLS.
          117 WASHINGTON STREET.




  Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by
  A. R. BAKER,
  In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District
  of Massachusetts.

  ELECTROTYPED AT THE
  BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.




LITTLE FRANKIE AND HIS MOTHER.




CHAPTER I.

FRANKIE'S SILVER CUP.


DO you wish to know who little Frankie was, and where he lived? Come and
sit down in your pretty chair by my side, and I will tell you. Frankie
was not the real name of this little boy. When he was a tiny baby, not
much larger than black Dinah, his father came home one night from his
store, and asked, "Have you named the baby yet, mamma?"

"No," she answered, "I have not; but I have been thinking that if you
are pleased, I should like to call him Frank."

"Frank, Frank, Frankie," said his father, repeating it over and over
again, to hear how it would sound. "Yes, I like the name; and then my
friend, Mr. Wallace, is called Frank. Yes, Frank it shall be."

"While he is a baby, we will call him Frankie," said his mamma. So that
was the way he obtained so pretty a name.

About a week after this, there came one day a man on horseback riding up
to the front door. He jumped briskly down upon the wide stone step, and
rang the bell with a loud, quick jerk, which seemed to say, I am in a
hurry. Margie, the errand girl, ran to the door, when the man gave her a
box wrapped nicely in a piece of yellow paper, and tied with a small red
cord. Then he sprang upon the saddle, and galloped away down the avenue
into the road.

Margie carried the box into the parlor, and gave it to her mistress.
Mamma looked at the name on the paper, and her bright, loving eyes grew
still brighter. She took her scissors and cut the cord which held the
paper around the box, then pulled off the cover, and what do you think
was there? Why, a large piece of pink cotton nicely folded about a
beautiful silver cup, on one side of which was marked the name _Little
Frankie_.

Mamma laughed as she read it, and felt sure the pretty present came from
Mr. Wallace. She ran gayly up stairs into the nursery, where the baby
was sitting in the lap of his nurse, shaking his coral bells. "Here, my
darling," she said; "see what a nice cup has come for you; look! it is
so bright I can peep at your rosy face in it."

Baby crowed and stretched out his tiny hands, but he could not quite
reach it; and if he could he would have tried to crowd it into his
mouth. So mamma took him in her arms, and squeezed him very tight, and
kissed him ever so many times, until the little fellow was quite
astonished. Then she held him off a little to look at him; and her eyes
were so brimful of love that Frankie was never tired of gazing into
them.

By and by, mamma carried the baby and the new cup down to the parlor;
for papa had just come in, and was already calling for them.

Papa admired the present very much, and said that his friend, Mr.
Wallace, was a noble fellow, and he should be glad if their little
Frankie made as good a man. Then papa danced around the room, "to give
his boy a little exercise," he said, "and make him grow." But mamma
screamed, and was afraid so much shaking would take away her baby's
breath.

"Come, then," said papa, "we will sit down and trot a little." He
seated the little fellow on his knee, and began, "This is the way the
lady rides, trot, trot, trot, trot. This is the way the gentleman rides,
de canter, de canter, de canter, de canter. This is the way the huntsman
rides, de gallop, de gallop, de gallop."

Frankie laughed and cooed, and as soon as his papa stopped, kicked his
little feet to have it go again.




CHAPTER II.

FRANKIE'S LITTLE NURSE.


FRANKIE lived in a quiet, pleasant village about twenty miles from the
city. His home was a pretty cottage with a steep roof rising above the
windows of the second story. In front there was a smooth, green lawn,
and at the side a lovely flower garden, with nicely gravelled walks
leading through it. Then back of the house there were beds of peas, and
beans, and turnips, and beets, and all kinds of good things for the
table.

Frankie had a brother whose name was Willie, and who was five years
older than he. There had been a dear sister, too, but when she was only
one year old, the Saviour called her home to heaven; and she went with a
sweet smile upon her lip.

Beside his father, and mother, and Willie, there were in Frankie's
home, Jane, the cook, Sally, the nurse, and Margie, a little girl seven
years of age, who loved dearly to dance about and amuse the baby boy.
She was the daughter of Jane, and her father had been dead many years.
She had begun to go to school; but as soon as the teacher rang the bell
for the scholars to go home, Margie caught her bonnet from the hook, and
ran away as fast as she could go, she was so impatient to see little
Frankie.

Early in the morning, long before his mamma was ready to awake, the
little fellow would open his eyes and crow, and sing his morning song.
Then he would try to get his tiny toes into his mouth. As soon as Margie
heard him, she would knock softly at the door, and ask, "May I come in
and play with Frankie?"

If you were to see her, you would think she was quite an old lady; she
went around so steadily, and not at all like a school girl. First, she
took all the pillows from the cradle, and shook them up. Then she laid
them back so that the baby could sit up and see her play to him. When
all was ready, she would go to the side of the bed, and Frankie's papa
would put him carefully into her arms, and then turn over to take
another nap.

It was very strange that with all Margie's singing and laughing, and
crying "catchee, catchee, now catch baby;" and with Frankie's happy
shouts of delight, papa and mamma could sleep quite soundly. But the
instant the little fellow cried, as he sometimes did when he hurt his
gums against his coral ring, and Margie said, "O dear! has he hurt him?
Margie's sorry," mamma would spring from bed and be wide awake in a
minute.

There was one other member of the family whom I have not yet mentioned.
It was not a brother, nor a sister, but a large black dog, whose name
was Ponto. He was a very handsome fellow, with his shining black hair,
and his white ring about his neck; and he held his head up and looked
you right in the face, as if he knew that he was above common dogs.
Ponto liked to run in the garden with Willie, and catch the sticks his
young master threw to him between his teeth. But best of all he liked to
follow him to the nursery, and watch the motions of the new comer.
Frankie's eyes grew very large the first time he felt Ponto's cold nose
on his arm; and he cried, when the great, black creature began to lick
his hands and face. Mamma tried to push Ponto away, and Willie laughed
most merrily.

This, you know, was Ponto's way of showing that he was fond of the dear
baby; and from this time a strong affection sprang up between them.
While Frankie slept, the dog lay down by the cradle, to be sure that no
harm came to his precious charge; and when he awoke, Ponto made a
noise, meaning, "I'll take care of you, baby."

[Illustration]




CHAPTER III.

FRANKIE'S JUMPER.


FRANKIE was now six months old. He had begun to sit upon the floor.
First he could only sit there by having pillows placed all about him.
Then one day nurse took away the pillows, and said the little fellow
must learn to do without them. She set him up very straight, and put a
large book outside his clothes between his feet, so that he could not
easily fall over. Then she took her sewing and sat down on the floor
beside him.

Frankie laughed, and thought this was very fine; but in one minute he
reached a little too far, and over he went right on to his nose.

Nurse caught him up before he had time to cry, and tossed him up and
down until he had forgotten his trouble; then she set him down again.
So that by the time mamma came home from a long walk, he had almost
learned to sit alone.

O, how much pleased mamma was! She took off her bonnet and shawl,
laughing all the time, and then she stopped ever so many times while she
was giving the little fellow his dinner, and squeezed him closer to her
side, and told him he was getting to be a brave boy indeed.

Hearing so much that was merry, Ponto roused himself from his sleep, and
began to rap with his tail on the floor. Then, when Frankie crowed out a
pretty sound, he sprang upon his feet, and looked around a minute with
his great, black eyes, when he gave a loud bark, "_bow, wow, wow_."
Little boy, I say, "_bow, wow, wow_."

One day Willie went with his mother to call upon a lady who had a baby
girl just about as old as Frankie. The servant asked them to go to the
nursery and see the baby in her jumper. O, what a funny sight that was!
How the two mammas, and the nurse, and Willie laughed, to see the little
creature dance about from one side of the room to the other. Frankie's
mamma said her little boy must have a jumper too.

The lady, whose name was Ida Mills, gave her the pattern of the little
jacket her baby wore when she jumped; and Mrs. Gray said she would ask
her husband to call and see the jumper, so that he could tell the
carpenter how to make one.

In two days Frankie's jacket was ready, and his jumper too. His mamma
had told him all about it. But he only laughed and cooed the same as
ever, and did not seem at all to understand it.

When papa came home to dinner that day, he heard such a loud noise from
the nursery, that he ran quickly up there to see what was the matter.

When he opened the door he saw his little boy fastened to a long pole,
which swung about the room like a crane, and mamma on her knees trying
to teach him to touch his little toes to the floor, and make himself
dance. There, too, were Jane, the cook, and Sally, the nurse, laughing,
while Margie and Willie were clapping their hands every time Frankie
gave a spring.

Just then Ponto came running up the stairs, and as soon as he saw his
little master, he began to bark most furiously. He did not like to see
him hung up so, and he meant to give his opinion about it.

Frankie had for a long time been fond of using his feet, and had often
done so in his mother's lap, until he almost sprang out of her arms; but
at first he did not know what mamma wanted him to do. But presently he
began to jump; and when he found how easily he could set himself to
dancing, he was so much pleased that he gave a scream of delight.

Willie ran to the other side of the room, and put his coral bells in a
chair, and called out, "Come, Frankie, come to brother;" and the little
dancer jumped across the room as briskly as if he had done it every day
of his life.

O, what laughing there was then! What shouting! What clapping of hands!
Mamma ran to kiss her baby, and call him her darling boy.

All this time the dinner was on the table; and at last, Jane said, "O,
dear, the dinner will be as cold as a stone!" But papa and mamma said
they had rather see Frankie learn to jump, than to eat the best dinner
that ever was cooked.




CHAPTER IV.

FRANKIE'S BROTHER WILLIE.


IT was a long time before Ponto became reconciled to see Frankie in his
jumper. He barked loud and long, as if he was afraid his little friend
would hurt himself, tied up in so strange a manner. But baby grew every
day more fond of this exercise; and as soon as he saw his mother take
the jacket, he would spring so that she could hardly hold him still
enough to fasten the buttons tightly to the wooden frame. One day, when
he and his mamma were alone in the nursery, he grew very sleepy, and at
last his little head nodded down, down, quite upon his breast. Mamma
laughed softly, and she waited a minute to see what he would do.
Presently he awoke a little, and touched his toes to the floor to make
the jumper spring, and get himself to sleep again. Then she took him in
her arms, and after loosing the buttons to his jacket, laid him in his
cradle for a nice nap.

One day Willie came running into the room when mamma was singing to the
baby, who was not well. He was a good boy, and knew that he must not
make a noise; so he took a cricket, and sat down by her side. He loved
to hear the gentle lullaby; but now he wondered why mamma looked so
sober. Pretty soon he saw one, two, three, tears drop right upon
Frankie's head. Her face was always so full of smiles that he knew not
what to make of it. She got up to put the baby in the cradle, and then
she saw Willie looking at her as if he wondered what this meant.

"Come here, my dear," she said softly, laying his head on her shoulder.
"Mamma has been praying the good God for you and your little brother."

"Are you afraid Frankie is going to die, as sister did?" asked Willie;
"I saw some tears on your cheeks."

"No, dear," said mamma. "I was thinking how kind God was to give me two
such dear boys. Then I looked at Frankie's hands, such pretty little
fingers and thumbs, and I asked God never to let them do that which was
naughty, never to allow them to strike or take what did not belong to
them."

Willie gazed a moment at his hands; I suppose he was trying to think
whether they had been naughty hands or good hands. Presently he said,
"Toes can't do wrong, I think, mamma, as hands can."

"Ah, yes, my dear," said his mother. "Only yesterday I knew a little boy
whose feet were very naughty, and walked away where he had been
forbidden to go."

Willie's face grew very red. "I forgot about that," he said in a
whisper.

"Do you remember," asked his mother, "the lady who visited here with her
little girl, and how she used to kick and stamp her feet when she could
not do exactly as she wished? Were those good feet, and do you think her
heavenly Father was pleased to see how she was using them?"

"O, no, indeed, mamma! But I guess God liked it when I used my feet to
carry James Wells's ball home, because he would have lost it if I had
not given it to him."

"Yes, dear, your feet and your hands, too, were good then; and beside
that, there was a kind feeling in your heart, which made you wish to
carry the ball to the poor boy."

"I'm glad I did it," said Willie, smiling in his mother's face. "Did you
think any thing about Frankie's mouth?"

"Yes, indeed, I prayed that my darling baby might use his sweet little
mouth to praise God, and that never, no, never might a naughty word come
out of it. O, how dreadful it is to think that little boys or little
girls should use the gifts of the good God to disobey his holy laws!"




CHAPTER V.

FRANKIE'S NEW LESSONS.


WHEN Frankie was a year old, his mamma thought it quite time for him to
learn to go to bed by himself. So she took him up in her chamber, and
shut the blinds, to keep out all the flies. Then she gave him his
luncheon, and laid him on Willie's trundle-bed. This was low; and she
thought, if he tried to get off, it would not hurt him as much as if it
were higher. "Now," said she, "my darling must be good, and shut his
eyes, and go to sleep; and then mamma will come and put on his pretty
cap and shoes, and take him to ride in his little wagon." She kissed
him, and went into the dressing room, to see what he would do.

But Frankie did not like this at all, and he began to cry as loud as he
could, and call for his mamma to come back. When he found this did no
good, he stuck up his stomach, and kicked his feet, and at last he held
his breath until his mamma was frightened, and ran to hold him up.

"Frankie is naughty," she said; "mamma can't kiss a naughty boy." Then
she laid him down again, and started to go away. But he cried as loud as
ever, until mamma was obliged to pat his dear little hands until they
looked quite red. She went away, and stood where she could look through
the crack of the door. He called "mamma," two or three times, and then,
tired with his crying, he fell asleep.

"Dear little Frankie!" she said, coming to the bed and kissing the tears
off his rosy cheeks. "It made mamma's heart ache to whip him."

In a few days the little fellow had learned this new lesson; and though
he missed his mother's arms folded tenderly about him, and the sweet
smiles which mingled with the hushaby in his infant dreams, yet he grew
reconciled to it at last, and became a very good baby.

Every day now he learned something new; first to say, "Wee," for Willie;
then to hide his tiny head behind a handkerchief, as Margie did when
she played peep a-boo with him. Another time he held out his hand for
the brush, and tried to smooth Willie's hair; but instead of that he
tangled the close curls most terribly, so that the poor boy could hardly
keep from crying when mamma combed them out again.

One morning Sally was ill, and obliged to stay in bed. Margie wished to
play with Frankie while her master, and mistress, and Willie were at
prayers; but mamma said, "No; Frankie may come to prayers too."

Papa took the large Bible, and Willie stood close by his side, his
little finger pointing to the verses as the reading went on; and the
baby sat on his mother's knee, his eyes very wide open, to see all that
was going on. He looked first at mamma, and wondered, I suppose, that
she did not smile. Then he turned to papa, who was reading serious
words in a solemn tone. He gazed next in Willie's face; but Willie was
intent upon the book. At last he caught a glimpse of Margie's laughing
eyes, and he spoke right out. The little girl had not heard one word of
the reading. She had been watching Frankie, to see how he would behave;
and now, before she thought where she was, she laughed aloud. But when
she saw that her laughing had made Willie smile and turn from his book,
and that her mistress looked very sorry, she was sorry too, and covered
her blushing face with her little apron.

Frankie sat very still while they sang a pretty hymn beginning:--

          "Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
             Upon the Saviour's brow."

But when papa and mamma kneeled down, he tried to kneel too; and seeing
that mamma shut her eyes, he closed his, but opened them again in a
minute, and tried to get away to run to Willie.

"Frankie is now a year and a half old," said papa, "and must learn to be
still at prayers."

"Can't he come to dinner, too, papa?" asked Willie. "I am almost sure he
will be good."

"I am willing, if mamma is," said papa.

"We will try him," said mamma.

In the middle of the forenoon a man came to the door bringing a new high
chair for Frankie to sit at dinner. Papa had been to the store and
bought it for his baby boy. "O, what a kind papa!"

Frankie was very good the first day and the second day he came to
dinner; but after that he did not behave as well. He pushed away the
plate on which mamma had mashed a nice potato for him, and tried to
reach a dish in which Jane had put some squash. His little fingers were
covered with squash, and mamma had to ring the bell for Margie to bring
the sponge and wash them.

The next day, when papa held down his head to ask God to bless the
food, Frankie bent his face down to the table, and muttered over
something. I suppose he thought he too was praying.

"Will God care?" asked Willie. "Baby don't know that it is naughty to
pray so."

"God never expects children to behave any better than they know how,"
replied mamma.




CHAPTER VI.

FRANKIE'S TEETH.


FRANKIE'S brother Willie had never been to school, but had learned to
read and spell at home, reciting his lessons to his mamma. Papa said he
was now old enough to recite with other boys. So mamma bought him a
little satchel, with a strap to put over his shoulder. Then she put in
it his slate, with a pencil and sponge tied to it, his reading book,
and a new arithmetic with pictures of marbles, and birds, and boys in
it. She washed his face and hands very clean, and curled his hair, which
was so long it hung over his shoulders; then she dressed him in his new
suit, with his nice shining collar basted into the neck, so as to have
him quite ready when his young companion called for him to go to the new
school.

Willie felt very happy this bright morning. He liked the idea of going
with the other boys to school. He thought it would be fine fun to play
ball at recess. There was another reason for his feeling happy. Can you
guess what it was? It was not that his clothes were new, and, as he
could see in the glass, fitted him very well. No, it was because he had
two pockets in his pantaloons. Before this time he had never had but
one, and now he felt smart indeed to be able to place both hands in his
pockets. He walked backwards and forwards before the long mirror in his
mother's chamber, admiring himself exceedingly.

Mamma laughed heartily at the airs he put on; but before he went out,
she told him no persons but rowdies walked with their hands in their
pockets; that papa never did, and she should be very sorry to see her
Willie walk so.

For a few days Frankie's cheeks had been very red indeed, so that Sally
said he looked as handsome as a picter; but mamma was afraid it was
because he was not well. He had a large tin bath tub in the form of a
boat, and one morning, when she put him in it, she found his flesh was
very hot. She took him out into the flannel blanket, which she always
spread in her lap, and rubbed him quickly, that he should not become
chilled; then she coaxed him to let her put her finger into his mouth to
feel whether he had any teeth which troubled him and made him look so
feverish.

He had already quite a mouth full of teeth; but she soon found that
there were two large back teeth trying to force their way through the
gums.

"Poor little fellow," she said; "mamma is sorry his teeth ache." She
laid his aching head on her bosom, and passed her soft hand soothingly
over it, back and forth, a great many times, chanting his favorite
little song, until at length he fell asleep.

          "Once there was a little man,
           Where a little river ran;
           And he had a little farm,
             And a little dairy, O!
           And he had a little plough,
           And a pretty dapple cow,
           Which he often called
             His pretty little Pharaoh.

          "And the little maiden, Ann,
           With her pretty little can,
           Went a milking when the
             Morning sun was beaming, O!
           But she fell,--I don't know how,--
           And she stumbled o'er the plough,
           And the cow was much astonished
             At her screaming, O!

          "Then the funny little man
           To the little river ran,
           To procure a little shiner
             For his dinner, O!
           Then he brought it on a hook
           To the pretty little cook,
           And she placed it on the table
             With his ladle, O!

          "Then the little maiden ran
           With her pretty little can,
           And brought some nice sweet milk from
             Good Mooley, Mrs. Pharaoh!
           And she poured it in a bowl
           For the clever little soul;
           And she placed it by his dish,
             While he sat at table, O!"

Then she went and laid him in her own bed, and took her sewing to sit
down beside him till he awoke.

Presently nurse came in with mamma's bonnet in her hand, and mamma's
shawl on her arm, as the lady had told her she was going to walk. But
now she said, "Frankie is ill, and I shall not leave him to-day."

"I thought he was not very well this morning," said nurse, "for he was
very worrisome, and would not eat his breakfast."

Mamma sat with her sewing for nearly an hour, while Frankie slept, only
once in a while he would moan as if he was in pain; and then she put her
hand on his head again.

When he awoke his eyes were heavy, and instead of jumping out of her lap
to play, he laid his head down on her shoulder.

"Does Frankie want some breakfast?" asked mamma.

He nodded his head; but when nurse brought him some nice bread and milk
in his silver porringer, he only took one taste of it, and then said,
"Patty want water." He could not well say Frankie, but always called
himself Patty.

For several days the poor boy was quite sick, and his mamma never left
him except to run for a few moments to her meals. When he was in great
pain, she soothed him, rocked him, and carried him about the chamber.
Then, when he felt a little better, she sang him pretty songs, or told
him stories, or showed him the pictures in his little books.

There was one little song he always loved to hear; and once, when papa
and mamma were singing at prayers, he made them laugh by saying, "Mamma,
sing Patty tune, pitty tee." He could not talk plain; but he meant
"pretty tree."

Perhaps you have never heard this song; and I will repeat it for you:--

           "Out in a beautiful field
            There stands a pretty pear tree,
            Pretty pear tree with leaves.
          What is there on the tree?
          A very pretty branch.
              Branch on the tree,
              Tree in the ground.

           "Out in the beautiful field
            There stands a pretty pear tree,
            Pretty pear tree with leaves.
          What is there on the branch?
          A very pretty bough.
              Bough on the branch,
              Branch on the tree,
              Tree in the ground.

           "Out in the beautiful field
            There stands a pretty pear tree,
            Pretty pear tree with leaves.
          What is there on the bough?
          A very pretty nest.
              Nest on the bough,
              Bough on the branch,
              Branch on the tree,
              Tree in the ground.

           "Out in a beautiful field
            There stands a pretty pear tree,
            Pretty pear tree with leaves.
          What is there in the nest?
          A very pretty egg.
              Egg in the nest,
              Nest on the bough,
              Bough on the branch,
              Branch on the tree,
              Tree in the ground.

           "Out in a beautiful field
            There stands a pretty pear tree,
            Pretty pear tree with leaves.
          What is there in the egg?
          A very pretty bird.
              Bird in the egg,
              Egg in the nest,
              Nest on the bough,
              Bough on the branch,
              Branch on the tree,
              Tree in the ground."




CHAPTER VII.

FRANKIE'S BREAKFAST.


FRANKIE was now old enough to like to hear stories, and almost every day
he asked, "Pease tell me tory, mamma." Sometimes, when he did not feel
like playing, he would ask her a great many times in a day.

One morning she went into the nursery, after she had eaten her own
breakfast, and found Sally feeding him with his bread and milk.

"He spits it out, ma'am," she said, "and won't let it down his throat."

"Patty want pig, mamma," said the little boy. He meant that he wanted a
fig.

"Has he had a fig this morning?" asked mamma.

"Yes, ma'am," said nurse. "Willie came in eating one, and Frankie cried
for it. So Willie gave it right up to him, though he had only taken one
mouthful. I think he is the generousest boy, ma'am, that I ever see."

Mamma smiled, and seemed very happy when she heard this. You know
nothing makes mammas so happy as to know that their little boys and
girls are good. She said to herself, "Dear child, I will give him
another when he comes in." Then she took Frankie in her arms, and told
nurse to go and eat her own breakfast. She tucked the bib nicely around
his neck, and then she began to feed him. But, as Sally said, he would
not let it down, but spit it all over his clothes and mamma's hand.
"Patty want pig," he said again.

"No, darling, you must eat your breakfast now," said mamma. "Though it
is not so sweet as a fig, it is very good, and will make my little boy
grow and be strong, so that he can run out to play like Willie."

"Patty want pig, mamma," said the baby, putting up his hand to pat
mamma's face. "Patty want pig vely much."

"Frankie shall have a fig by and by," said mamma; "now I will tell him a
little story.

"Once there was a little boy; his name was Harry. He had no kind mamma
to give him good breakfasts. His mamma had gone to heaven to live with
God.

"Little Harry was poor, and often when he woke up he was very hungry.
But he could not lay his head on his mamma's breast, because she was
dead, you know. Poor little Harry used to cry for somebody to come and
take care of him. All babies need some person to hold them and rock
them."

"Patty got mamma," cried the little boy.

"Yes, darling, Frankie has a mamma who loves him dearly, and tries to
take good care of him, and makes him nice warm clothes. But Harry had
none. The woman who let him live in her house was too busy to attend to
him; so, when he was cold, or hungry, or tired, and wanted to lay his
poor, weary head in her lap, she had no time to let him do so. Dear
little fellow, it would have done him so much good to have some kind
mamma take him in her lap and squeeze him close to her breast, as mamma
does Frankie, and call him her darling, dear little Harry. I think he
would have stopped crying at once, and he would have looked up in her
face and smiled his thanks."

Frankie was so much pleased with the story, that he put up his little
mouth to kiss mamma; and when he had done so, he patted her face softly,
and said, "Patty love oo." He could not say "you."

"One day," said mamma, "a kind lady called at the poorhouse where Harry
lived. He was sitting on a little bed in the corner, crying; but he
stopped when the lady went in. His hair had not been combed for many
days; his face was very dirty where the tears had run down over his
thin, pale cheeks; his clothes were soiled and torn; but the lady pitied
him very much. When she found he had no mamma, and that his papa was at
work a great way off, she wrapped her shawl about the poor baby, and
took him home in her carriage.

"First of all she gave him a cup of milk to drink, and then she told
nurse to bring some warm water in a tub, and some soap and towels, for
she was going to wash the poor baby. She did not wonder then that the
poor little fellow cried, for he was all sore, because he had had no
kind mamma to wash him and put on nice powder. She kept him in the water
a long time, and washed him very clean; and then she told the nurse to
go up garret and bring a small trunk with some baby clothes in it. She
had a little baby once, and these were his clothes. Then she tried to
get the snarls out of his hair, and by this time Harry was so tired, he
was glad to go to sleep.

"When he woke up he began to cry again, for he thought he was back in
his old home; but as soon as he saw the kind lady, he smiled very
sweetly. He held out his arms for her to take him. She had some warm
bread and milk all ready, and she took him in her lap and put a towel
round his neck and fed him.

"He did not spit it out on his clean clothes, but he ate it all, and
liked it very much; and then he looked up in the kind face that was
bending over him so fondly, and smiled, and tried to stroke her cheek.
This was all the way he knew how to thank her for his good breakfast."

When mamma had told the story, she took Frankie's cup and began to feed
him, and he did not spit out one mouthful, but ate the whole, even the
last drop.




CHAPTER VIII.

FRANKIE'S DOLLY.


WHEN Willie was a little boy about two years old, a good lady came to
see his mother. Her name was Bryant, but Willie could not speak such a
very hard word; so, after trying a long time, he called her Bear. Papa
and mamma laughed heartily, and said that was a funny name; but in a few
days they began to call her Bear too; and after a while they thought it
was a very pretty name. Do you know why they liked it so much? Because
good Bear was fond of Willie, and very kind to him, and because Willie
said it in such a cunning way. One day mamma folded up a little blanket
for Willie to carry to bed for a baby, and Bear said, "I will make him a
pretty dolly, and dress it all up, so that he can have it to play
with."

That very day she began to work upon it. Mamma gave her nice pieces of
cloth, and she made a black face, and curly hair, and red lips, and a
very flat nose, and white eyes. Papa laughed when they showed it to him,
and said, "he hoped Willie wouldn't be afraid of it."

Then Bear made arms, and hands, and legs, with red shoes, on the feet.
Then she made a skirt, and a dress, and a sack for Dinah to put on when
she was cold, and a bonnet for her to wear when she went to walk. She
did not let Willie see it until it was all ready for him to play with,
and then she, and mamma, and nurse stood looking to see what he would do
with it.

"Pretty Dinah," said mamma, kissing the dolly, and then putting it into
Willie's arms.

At first the little fellow looked and looked, but did not touch his new
baby or smile at all; but presently, when mamma said, "Willie got two
babies," and putting the one made of a blanket by the side of it, he
began to understand what it was for. When Willie was four years old,
Bear made some new clothes for Dinah, a jacket and pantaloons, and
changed her name to John. This, Willie did not like; and one day hung
dolly by a string to the nob of the shutter, because he was not good,
he said.

When Frankie was old enough to play with a baby, dear kind Bear had gone
away where they could never see her pleasant smile again; but mamma made
a new dress, and put it on over the pantaloons, and called dolly Dinah
again. While she was sewing on it, the tears ran out of her eyes and
dropped on her work. Willie ran to ask her what was the matter, and she
said, softly, "I am thinking of Bear, my dear, and how she would have
loved our little Frankie if she had lived."

"I am going to heaven some day," said Willie; "and I'll ask her to come
back. I know she will, when I tell her you cry so."

"If we are good, my dear boy," said mamma, wiping her eyes, "and try to
please the Saviour, and to obey all his holy commands, we shall go to
live with her in heaven; but she can never come back to us."

"I'm trying to grow good every day, mamma," said Willie.

This was a long time before. Now Frankie loved Dinah dearly; and when he
went to ride, she had to go too. He used to hug her and kiss her just as
mamma did him; and in all his plays with Margie, Dinah was set up in a
chair, and had to play too.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber's Note: All punctuation errors have been corrected.





End of Project Gutenberg's Little Frankie and his Mother, by Madeline Leslie

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