Friends and Helpers

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Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

FRIENDS AND HELPERS

COMPILED BY

SARAH J. EDDY

1899

PREFACE.

The object of this book is to teach children to treat all living
creatures with considerate kindness and to appreciate the services of
man's helpers in the animal world.

In many homes this teaching is entirely neglected, and it is left for
the school-teacher to arouse interest in the animals dependent upon us,
and to encourage pity and compassion for their suffering.

Sir Arthur Helps says: "The great advancement of the world, throughout
all ages, is to be measured by the increase of humanity and the decrease
of cruelty."

Cruelty in any form is a species of savagery. Civilization can be
brought about only by education. The savage does not know that he is a
savage. The child does not realize that he is cruel, until he is shown
the ways in which the lower animals suffer and are made miserable.

The thoughtless child makes the selfish man or woman, and selfishness
lies at the root of crime.

"Evil is wrought by want of thought
As well as want of heart."

Children have tender hearts and quick sensibilities, but they sometimes
lack imagination and sympathy through their ignorance of actual
conditions. They are easily influenced by one whom they love and
respect, and the teacher's power to make the world better by pointing
out the great duty of humanity should find more scope than it has done
in our educational systems.

"The humane movement is a broad one, reaching from humane treatment of
animals on the one hand to peace with all nations on the other. It
implies a step beyond animal's rights. It implies character building.
Society first said that needless suffering should be prevented; society
now says that children must not be permitted to cause pain because of
the effect on the children themselves."

Mr. Frank M. Chapman has kindly written for the book the chapters on
"Our Friends the Birds," "Feathered Travelers," "When the Birds Return,"
"Birds' Homes," and "The Robin."

Through the courtesy of Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Company several poems
by Celia Thaxter and others have been used. The publications of the
English Humanitarian League, especially the pamphlets by Mrs. Florence
H. Suckling and some of the writings of Miss Edith Carrington, have
proved helpful and suggestive. The compiler has had the assistance of
Mrs. Charles A. Lane in editing and preparing material.

CONTENTS.

PART I.

ROVER AND HIS FRIENDS .. Adapted from an English story
FAMOUS DOGS
HOW TO TAKE CARE OF DOGS .. Anna Harris Smith
STORIES OF DOGS
FORSAKE NOT AN OLD FRIEND .. Plutarch
CATS AND DOGS
FAMOUS CATS
KITTY'S CHRISTMAS
TO MY CAT MUFF .. John Owen
HOW TO TAKE CARE OF CATS
CAT QUESTIONS .. Lucy Larcom
THE CAT FAMILY
THINGS TO REMEMBER
STORIES OF CATS
A BRAVE GIRL .. Harriet Beecher Stowe
AUNT ESTHER'S RULE .. " "
LION STORIES
THE KING OF BEASTS
THE SHIP OF THE DESERT
A HEAVY LOAD
FAMOUS HORSES
HOW TO TREAT HORSES
CATCHING THE COLT .. Marian Douglass
A REMARKABLE HORSE-TRAINER
THE ARAB TO HIS HORSE .. Bayard Taylor
"WAITING FOR MASTER"

PART II.

ROBERT'S DREAM .. Anna Harris Smith
ROBERT ON A FARM .. Anna Harris Smith
APRIL SONG .. Mary E. Wilkins
EARTHWORMS AND SNAKES.
HUMANITY .. T. Gisborne
ANTS, BEES, AND WASPS
A LITTLE BLACK SLAVE .. Adapted from an English story
A BUTTERFLY'S WING
TO A BUTTERFLY .. Jane Taylor
CUNNING BEE .. Anonymous
GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET .. John Keats
PATIENT WEAVERS
THE WOODMOUSE .. Mary Howitt
A MOUSE'S STORY
WISE RATS
THE SQUIRREL'S STORY .. Anna Harris Smith
FORBEARANCE .. Ralph Waldo Emerson
THE STEEL TRAP .. Adapted from story by Mrs. C. Fairchild Allen
THE RABBIT
DAVID'S STORY
LINES FROM COWPER
SOME READY HELPERS
A TRIUMPH .. Celia Thaxter

PART III.

THE CANARY'S STORY
THE CAGED THRUSH .. R. F. Murray
HOW TO CARE FOR A CANARY
AN INDIAN STORY
HIAWATHA'S BROTHERS .. Henry W. Longfellow
TO THE CUCKOO .. John Logan
OUR FRIENDS THE BIRDS \
FEATHERED TRAVELERS |
WHEN THE BIRDS RETURN > .. Frank M. Chapman
BIRDS' HOMES |
THE ROBIN /
ROBIN REJOICE .. Garrett Newkirk
TO A SKYLARK .. Percy Bysshe Shelley
FRIGHTENED BIRDS
DON'T ROB THE BIRDS, BOYS .. Anonymous
A GOOD SHOT .. Adapted
THE GOLDFINCH
BIRDS' TRADES
THE SPARROW
SPARROWS
CHRISTMAS IN NORWAY .. Celia Thaxter
THE CROW
THE BLUEBIRD .. Emily Huntington Miller
THE FARMER'S FRIEND
THE WOUNDED CURLEW .. Celia Thaxter
THE SANDPIPER .. " "
THE COST OF A HAT
THE HALO .. Rev. W. C. Gannett
THE SNOWY HERON
WINGED FISHERS
WHAT THE LITTLE SEAL THINKS
WHAT THE YOUNG SEABIRD THINKS
WHAT THE BIRDS DO FOR US
THE BRAVEST ARE THE TENDEREREST
LINES TO A SEABIRD .. M. A. Stodart
THE TRUE HERO
LINES BY SUSAN COOLIDGE
SELECTIONS FROM EMILY DICKINSON AND S. T. COLERIDGE
WHAT THE CHILDREN CAN DO
TO THE TEACHER

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Frontispiece, "Loving Playmates." From photograph by Sarah J. Eddy.
"Can't You Talk?" By G. A. Holmes
"Speak for It." From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Group of Sheep under Tree. From photograph by T. E. M. and G. P. White
The Connoisseurs. From painting by Sir Edwin Landseer
Odin. From painting by Sir Edwin Landseer
Owney. From photograph by Elmer Chickering
Hearing. From painting by H. Sperling
"Saved." From painting by H. Sperling
Breakfast. From painting by H. W. Trood
Alexander. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Kitty's Christmas. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Gentle Kitty Gray. " " "
Cat's Paw
Cat's Eye
A Happy Pair. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
The Traveling Basket. " " "
"Please give me some more. " " "
Driven out. From painting by M. Stocks
Friends
The Lion at Home. From painting by Rosa Bonheur
Portrait of Rosa Bonheur. From painting by Rosa Bonheur
The King of Beasts. From painting by Rosa Bonheur
The Ship of the Desert
At the Watering Trough. By Dagnan-Bouveret
A Norman Sire. From painting by Rosa Bonheur
Three Members of a Temperance Society. By J. F. Herring
Natural and Comfortable
Strained and Miserable
Mare and Colt. From painting by C. Steffeck
Waiting for Master
A Farm Yard
A Group of Friends. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Hen and Chickens. " " "
Chickens Drinking
A Happy Family. From photograph by J. M. Eldredge
Just Arrived
Pig looking over a Fence
Feeding the Pigs
Old White Horse
A Little Songster
Pussy Willows
Paper-Makers
A Butterfly
Grasshopper and Cricket. Illustration by Alice Barber Stephens
Spider and Web
A Woodmouse
Little Freehold. By S. J. Carter
An Interesting Family. By S. J. Carter
Frog and Lily-pads
Four little Friends
A Bird's House
Feathered Travelers
Over the Nest
A Bird's Nest
Swallows
Bird and Nest. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Robin
Frightened Bird
Mother Bird feeding Little One
The Goldfinch
Sparrows
A Wintry Day
The Farmer's Friend
Head-piece to "The Cost of a Hat"
The Snowy Heron
Egret Plumes
Sea-gulls
Birds on Fence
A Band of Mercy. From photograph by S. J. Eddy
Making Friends. " " "

PART I

ROVER AND OTHER STORIES

ROVER AND HIS FRIENDS.

WHY ROVER RAN AWAY.

One morning Rover was very hungry indeed. He had been going from place
to place with his master, and now it was two long days since he had
eaten a good dinner. His master was a poor tinker who traveled about the
country and never stayed long in one place. Rover would have liked this
if his master had been kind to him, but the dog was used only to blows
and kicks.

Rover was a rough, shaggy dog, and his tail curled down under him in a
way that showed he had been ill-treated. But he had good, faithful,
brown eyes, and the drooping tail was always ready to wag at a kind
word.

The tinker's breakfast was on the table. How good it smelt! Rover looked
at it with longing eyes.

"Please give me a bit, master," said Rover. "I am so hungry!"

The tinker did not seem to hear. At last he said roughly: "Be still,
Rover!"

Rover waited patiently for a few minutes, but his master had no thought
of feeding him. At last Rover put out his long, red tongue and swept the
meat and bread into his mouth.

[Illustration: Caption: "Can't you talk?" Small child kneeling in front
of dog, while kitten looks on.]

Then the angry tinker struck the poor dog and spoke sharply to him. An
hour later Rover had run away.

ROVER'S NEW HOME

It was a hot day in summer, and Rover stopped to drink some water out of
a mud-puddle. How hungry and thirsty he was! He ran on for miles and
miles. At last he saw a cottage with smoke coming out of the chimney.
High hills were all around it, and a thick, dark wood was not far away.
On the doorstep were two little children. When they saw the dog they
shouted with delight.

"It is Rover!" cried Sandy. "It is Tommy Tinker's dog. Where have you
come from, old fellow, and where is your master?"

It was plain that Rover was no stranger to them. He had been there with
his master only the week before, and while Tinker Tom was mending the
kettle, the children and the dog had made friends. The mother had given
him a bone, and though some persons may forget a kindness, a dog never
does. Rover could not answer Sandy's question. All he could do was to
wag his tail faster than ever. The little girl put her arms about his
shaggy neck.

"Poor doggie!" she said. "You shall have some of my supper."

HOW ROVER WAS CARED FOR.

When the children's mother saw Rover she brought him a large bowl of
water, which he quickly lapped up. Then she gave him something to eat
and made a soft bed for him in a corner of the room. She said: "Perhaps
Tinker Tom may come for his dog, and we will keep him till then."

Rover hoped he would never come, but he could not say so. He curled
himself up in his bed and, with a long sigh of happiness, went to sleep.

Rover was very happy in his new home. He had no wish to run away again.
He had good brown bread to eat, which was better for him than white
bread would have been. Sandy learned to make for him a thick cake out of
oatmeal, and sometimes he had a bone. Fortunately for the dog, Sandy's
mother was too poor to be able to give him much meat. There was always a
dish of fresh water ready for him, and a bit of cabbage with his food
kept him well and strong.

Sandy would often talk to Rover, and the dog soon learned to understand
what was said to him. He was delighted when Sandy said, "Would you like
to go for a walk?" But Sandy never said this unless he was really going
to take Rover out, or the dog soon would have learned that the boy did
not always mean what he said.

One of the things that Rover liked best to do was to run after a large
ball of wool which Sandy made on purpose for him.

[Illustration: Caption: "Speak for it!" Photograph of boy approx. 5
years old holding treat above head of dog sitting expectantly in front
of him.]

Sandy often brushed and combed Rover, and this made his coat glossy and
clean. One would hardly have recognized the rough, neglected dog in the
pet of the household.

TINKER TOM COMES BACK

One day when Rover was playing with the children on the hill, he
suddenly ran away as fast as he could go.

"Oh, Rover, come back, come back!" called little Jessie; but Rover kept
on until he was lost to sight in the dark woods. In the distance he had
seen a well-known figure. Tinker Tom was coming along the road with his
pack on his back.

When the tinker came to the house, Sandy's mother told him about Rover.

"You may keep him and welcome," said the tinker, "if you will give me
something to eat."

So a good, hot dinner was spread for him, and at last he went away with
his pack on his back. When he had been gone a long time and it was quite
dark, Rover appeared. He came in looking pleased and proud, as if he had
done some very wise thing. He said as plainly as he could, "Am I not a
clever dog?"

You may be sure that Sandy and Jessie were glad to see him again and to
know that now nobody could take him away.

ROVER LEARNS TO BE USEFUL.

Sandy's father was a poor man who had charge of a large flock of sheep.
In summer he led them from one feeding-place to another over the high
hills. Often he was away for many days at a time. In winter the sheep
were kept near the cottage and fed with food which had been laid up for
them in the autumn. The sheep did not belong to Sandy's father, but he
took the best possible care of them.

[Illustration: Caption: "Rover learns to be useful." Group of sheep
standing around under a tree. Several appear to be looking at something
off to the right -- Rover?]

One day when he came home from the hills he said: "We must not let Rover
be idle all his life. He must learn to do something useful. I shall take
him to the hills in the morning and teach him to look after the sheep.
He will be a great help to me, and I will be a good master to him."

So the next morning Rover started off with his master, looking very
proud and happy. At first it was hard to make the dog take care of the
sheep in the right way. He thought it was great fun to run after them
and bark at their heels, but he did not know when to bark and when to be
quiet. However, he did his best to learn, and when the shepherd went
home he said that Rover would make a very useful dog.

THE LOST SHEEP.

Soon the snow began to fall and it was pleasant to sit round the fire
and watch the great logs crackling on the hearth. They were all very
happy at the cottage and Rover was sure that he had the best home in the
world.

One bitterly cold night the wind blew in great gusts. In some way the
door of the sheep-shed blew open and in the morning not one of the sheep
could be seen. The poor things were so tired of being shut up that they
had wandered off in the cold.

When the shepherd missed his sheep, he was in great trouble.

"Rover, my boy," he said, "the sheep have run away. What shall we do? I
wonder if you are wise enough to help me find them."

Rover jumped up quickly and shook himself as if to say, "I am all
ready!" and then ran to the door. First he ran round and round the
sheepfold, smelling with his moist, black nose close to the ground, and
looking very wise. Then he ran a little way towards the hills and stood
looking back, with one paw in the air. His ears were lifted, his eyes
were bright, and he gave a low whine, as if to say, "I think those poor
sheep have gone to the hills. Are you coming with me, or shall I go
alone?"

THE LOST DOG.

Rover trotted off towards the hills and his master followed, but he
could not walk fast enough to please the dog.

There was no snow on the ground at first, but before noon it began to
fall thick and fast. The day passed and the father was still away; night
came and he had not returned.

Sandy and Jessie were very sad, for they could think only of their
father and his faithful dog. It was very dangerous to be out on the
hills in such weather. Often men were lost in the snow and died from
cold and hunger.

At last, after hours of anxious waiting, a welcome footstep was heard
and the happy children ran to open the door. Their father came in,
shaking the snow from his rough coat. He looked very grave and tired.

"Oh, father!" cried Sandy. "Where is Rover? And have you found the
sheep?"

The poor man shook his head. "The sheep are not to be found," he said
sadly. "And I have lost our good Rover, too. It is a terrible storm. I
fear they are all frozen. If the sheep are killed, it will take all I
have in the world to pay for them."

ROVER COMES HOME.

Sandy and Jessie began to cry. Their mother, too, was crying. She was
busy with the supper, but her thoughts were with the poor, hungry
animals in the bitter cold.

Early the next morning, and for several days the shepherd went out to
look for his lost sheep, but he could find no trace of them.

"There is nothing for me to do now but to go to the owner of the sheep,"
he said, at last. "He is a very hard man. I am afraid he will turn us
out of our home."

Suddenly, while he was speaking, there was a noise at the door, and in
a moment a familiar voice was heard.

"Bow-wow-wow! Bow-wow-wow!"

"Rover has come back!" shouted Sandy, flinging himself upon the door in
his hurry to open it.

"Rover has come back!" cried little Jessie.

"The sheep have come back!" said their mother, looking out into the
yard. Yes, there were the sheep,--every one of them safe and sound. And
there beside them, wagging his tail with joy and pride, was poor, tired,
cold, hungry Rover. He was hoarse from barking and breathless from
running, but he was the happiest dog in all the world.

The unhappy sheep had paid dearly for their wish to get out. They were
glad to go back into their warm shed and eat a good meal of turnips. As
for Rover, he was treated like a prince. He had the supper he liked
best, and a soft bed was made for him near the fire. He put his curly
head down on his paws and went to sleep, while Sandy and Jessie watched
him lovingly. How far he had tramped over the hills or how he had found
the sheep he could not tell.

"He is tired out," said the shepherd. "He must have a long rest now, for
he has earned it. Good, faithful, grateful Rover!"

FAMOUS DOGS.

The story of the dog Argus was told two thousand years ago by the great
Greek poet, Homer. Argus may not have been a real dog, but the poet must
have known some dog like him or he could not have told the story so
well.

Argus belonged to Ulysses, king of Ithaca. He was only a puppy when his
master went away to the Trojan war. The years went by and Ulysses did
not return. Every one thought that he was dead. At last Argus grew so
old and feeble that he could not run about the palace. All day long he
lay in the warm, sunny courtyard, too weak to move. It was twenty years
since he had heard his master's voice.

One day a beggar came into the courtyard. No one knew who he was. The
queen looked at him coldly. There was no friendly face to greet him. But
the old dog lifted up his head and whined and wagged his tail for joy.
The beggar's rags could not deceive him. He knew his master had come
back at last, and Ulysses stooped to caress him with tears in his eyes.

The most famous dog in the world was a mastiff of St. Bernard's. His
name was Barry. He lived high up in the Alps where it is winter the
greater part of the year. He was trained, by the good monks with whom he
lived, to go out and hunt for travelers lost in the snow. When he found
a man lying half-frozen in the drifts, he would run back, barking for
help. Then the monks would follow him and bring the traveler to their
warm house.

[Illustration: THE CONNOISSEURS. By Sir Edwin Landseer.]

Barry knew all the dangerous places, and when there had been a snow
slide he was sure to be on the spot as soon as he could, to see if any
one were hurt. Once he found a little, boy in the snow and in some way
made him understand what he must do. The child climbed upon the dog's
broad back and was carried safely to the fire and the good supper always
waiting for the lost ones.

Barry lived with, the monks for twelve years, and saved forty lives.
Other St. Bernard dogs have been brave and wise, but Barry's name stands
first among them all.

Many great men have had dogs whom they loved and trusted. Sir Walter
Scott, one of the most famous story-writers that ever lived, had several
dogs. He used to take them with him whenever he went to walk. There was
an old staghound named Maida, and a black greyhound called Hamlet, after
one of Shakespeare's heroes. Then there was a beautiful setter with long
ears and a silky coat. Her name was Finette. Sir Walter would often stop
and talk to these four-footed friends and they seemed to understand what
he said. In one of his best stories a dog plays a very important part.

Dr. John Brown was another Scotch writer who loved dogs. He gave an
account of his pets in a book called "Spare Hours." He wrote the story
of "Rab and his Friends," a tribute of which any dog might be proud.

There was a great artist named Landseer, who painted his dogs' pictures
so wonderfully that we know he must have loved them very much. In one
picture he shows his two dogs looking over his shoulder at his drawing.
He gave them a very long name which means "Those who know all about it";
but I am sure he did not laugh at them unkindly. Dogs do not like to be
laughed at any more than we do.

Odin was the name of one of Sir Edwin Landseer's dogs, When we look at
his portrait we can understand why the artist should have thus named
him, for Odin was the all-wise god of the old Norsemen.

[Illustration: ODIN. By Sir Edwin Landseer.]

Jack was a famous dog who was with the English soldiers during a great
war in eastern Europe. He was not a dog of fine breed or gentle
training. He had been rescued by one of the soldiers from a cruel death,
and he gave in return his love and gratitude. He fought in one of the
battles and saved his master's life. When the fighting was over he used
to go about the battlefield carrying a can of tea for the wounded men.

Mrs. Browning had a dog named Flush, to whom she wrote one of her poems.
She was unable to leave her room for many long months of illness, but
the little dog spent the weary days by her side, cheerfully giving up
merrier company for her sake.

Lord Byron's dog was named Boatswain and he is buried in the garden of
the poet's beautiful home. There is a monument to his memory and on it
are these lines:

Near this spot
Are deposited the remains of one
Who possessed beauty without vanity,
Strength without insolence,
Courage without ferocity,
And all the virtues of man without his vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery
If inscribed over human ashes,
Is but a just tribute to the memory of
BOATSWAIN, a dog,
Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803,
And died at Newstead Abbey, Nov. 18, 1808.

There was once a poor man in Scotland, who, when he died, was buried in
a graveyard in Edinburgh, his only mourner being a little Scotch
terrier. On two mornings the sexton found the dog lying on his master's
grave and drove him away, but the third morning was cold and wet and the
dog was allowed to remain. From that time, for twelve years and a half,
no matter how stormy the weather, the faithful animal made the graveyard
his home, only leaving it once a day to get food.

At last he died of old age, and was buried in a flower garden near by. A
costly marble fountain was erected to the memory of the faithful little
dog, and a bronze statue of "Grey-Friar's Bobby" sits on top of it.

The most famous dog in America was Owney, the postal dog. He traveled
with the mail-bags from one end of the country to the other. He even
went to Alaska and across the Pacific Ocean.

Owney first joined the Post-office Department at Albany, N. Y., and he
always looked upon that office as headquarters where he must report
himself after a long trip.

When Owney was ready for a journey he did not ask any one to go with
him. He was quite able to take care of himself. He would follow the
mail-bag to the station and jump into the postal car. Having chosen the
particular mail-bag which he wished to follow, he would stretch himself
out upon it for a good nap. He had no further care, of course. When the
mail-bag was taken out, Owney went, too.

Owney was not a handsome dog, but he knew how to make friends. He was
welcome wherever he went, and he often came back to Albany cohered with
checks and medals to show how far he had traveled and in what esteem he
was held.

His intelligence was very wonderful. Many times a tired postal clerk who
had fallen asleep, forgetful of the stations, was wakened by Owney's
barking. The dog had a fine saver collar of which he was very proud. One
day a clerk had slipped it off to examine the medals which were hung on
it and in the hurry of extra work it was laid down and forgotten. Owney
was too wise to leave his collar behind him, so putting his nose through
it and rubbing his head against a post, he slipped it on for himself.
After this he was often made to put on his collar to amuse his visitors.

[Illustration: OWNEY, photographed by Edward Chickering. Dog bedecked
with ribbons and medals.]

Owney died a few years ago, to the grief of the largest circle of
friends a dog ever had. In nearly every large city of the United States
he was known and missed, and many years will go by before he is
forgotten.

HOW TO TAKE CARE OF DOGS. William and Edward were two boys who lived in
the same village. They were cousins, and they had a kind uncle who was
always trying to give them pleasure.

One day he gave to each of the boys a puppy. These puppies were so
nearly alike that neither the boys nor their uncle could tell them
apart.

The boys were delighted with their new pets, and thinking that his dogs
were in good hands, Uncle Frank went away for two years.

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