Posts Tagged character building

Why?

Posted by Lacy in Stories on Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Why?

~ Fireside Tales ~

Betty Ann was a plump, fair-haired, blue-eyed little girl just past six. She was beginning to think things out for herself. When the teacher told her that six and three make nine, she could not believe it just because Teacher said so. She had to slowly count it out on six and three plump little fingers and thumbs. And then when the answer came–nine–she was perfectly satisfied. Best of all, she never forgot anything she had figured out in her slow, careful way.

"It's good to want to know things for yourself," said Mother one day, "but there are lots and lots of things little girls have to do without knowing why; just because Mother says so."
"Yes, I know," said Betty Ann, nodding her yellow head wisely, "like when you say, 'Hurry, Betty Ann' — not 'splaining that Jack as eaten all his ice cream and is about to start on mine."

Mother smiled. "And in bigger things, too, Mother can't always stop to "splain,'" she said. "Just keep your eyes and ears open, Betty Ann; things like that pop up 'most any time."

Just that evening, Aunt Mary and Uncle Tom drove into the yard. Betty Ann was in the nursery making a wonderful and terrible-looking family of paper dolls. One who would do for the Giant that Jack killed was meant to be the brother of another whom you would naturally call Tiny Tim. And the little sister was so broad and short that she did not look nearly so much like a little girl as a sugar lump.

Betty Ann was just making the mother and daddy — for a wonder, they were about the same size — when Mother called.

"O Betty Ann! Come here, dear."
"Why?" called Betty Ann, a little crossly — for she was just then making the corners of Daddy's tall hat, and she did so want it nice and square.
Betty Ann half listened for a second call — but it never came. She was coloring the mother's blue-and-white checkered apron, when she heard someone coming up the stairs.

Throwing down her box of crayons, Betty Ann ran pell-mell — as she supposed, into Mother's open arms. But Mother's face was turned away, and she did not say anything.
Betty Ann caught her hand. "Did you want me, Mother?" she said, half ashamed. "I heard you call, but it's such a hard job to make a nice mother and daddy, and two brothers and a little sister. So I just kept on cutting while the scissors were working good, and thought I'd 'splain later."

"Yes, Betty Ann, I did want you," said Mother very soberly, "but I don't need you now."
"Why, Mother, what has happened?" cried Betty Ann, dragging her Mother to a chair and clambering up on her lamp.
"Only this," said Mother, looking straight into Betty Ann's eyes. "Aunt Mary and Uncle Tom drove away just a few minutes ago. They came to take you to the country for two or three days and let you go blackberrying and fishing and–"
"O Mother!" cried Betty Ann, her eyes filling with tears, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I call you, dear," said Mother sorrowfully, "and you only called back, 'Why?' I don't know what we can do about it now."
"If I'd only known!" cried Betty Ann, swallowing hard.
"You see this was one of the times when I couldn't stop to "splain'. Uncle Tom came up on business, and he couldn't stop even a minute. He just said, 'Where's Yellow-top?–let's go!' Jack came running out, and they whirled him off in your place, before you could say 'Scat!'"

It was a very sorrowful little girl that said to her puppy that night, "Puggy, dear, whenever your mother says, 'Come here, dear'–don't say, 'Why?'" A bright tear rolled on to Puggy's little black paw as his small mistress added sorrowfully, "'Cause maybe your mother can't stop to 'splain."

6 yr old, Betty Ann, blackberries, blackberrying, character building, child, children, children's story, coloring, country, don't ask Why, explain, explaination, fingers, Fireside Tales, fishing, girl, ice cream, little girl, moral character, mother, Mother says so, obedience, obedient, obey, paper family, puppy, school, scissors, splain, Stories, stories for children, sugar lump, teacher, thumbs, to the country, Why

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Doreen's Jewel Box – Chapter 2

Posted by Lacy in Stories on Friday, March 6, 2009

I figured everyone is probably curious as to what Doreen gets for her 10th birthday.. (If you haven't read Chapter 1 – Five Minutes to Ten, I recommend reading that first!) so here's the 2nd chapter!

Doreen's Jewel Box

Chapter 2 — Ten O'Clock

Doreen pushed down the bedclothes, sat up, and rubbed her eyes. It was still quite dark, but she was awake enough to know that the great morning for which she had been longing so much had come at last.
She peered around the room. There was no bicycle and no doll's house. "Downstairs, perhaps," she said to herself.
She put out her hand and felt for the chair beside her bed. Ah, what was this? A flat, brown paper package tied up with a string. She drew it into bed, her heart beating faster at every rustle of the brown paper.

Lying down again, Doreen decided to enjoy the "feel" of the parcel until it should be light enough to open it. Meanwhile she tried to imagine what might be inside.

She felt sure it must be the long-desired jewel box. It was just the right size and shape. She pictured a very handsome case filled with sparkling diamonds and emeralds and gleaming jewels of many shapes and colors. Shaking the parcel, she expected to hear the stones rattle together. But there was no sound. "Of course," she said to herself, "how stupid I am! If they are beautiful stones they will be wrapped up in tissue paper, or set in golden rings on velvet cushions."
Morning dawned at last. Jumping up, Doreen put on her clothes, with one eye all the time on the brown-paper parcel. She had decided to keep the pleasure of opening it until she went downstairs.
Dressed at last, she went down to the dining room. There was no cycle nor doll's house there. Evidently mamma had spent all her money on the jewel box, thought Doreen.

Snip! snip! went the scissors, and off fell the string and the first sheet of brown paper. There was some writing on the next piece of wrapping paper. Doreen's eyes opened wider than ever as she read the words:

"DOREEN'S JEWEL BOX"

"Hurrah!" she shouted, hastily tearing off the next sheet of paper. Underneath was a beautiful cardboard box of a mottled green color. "How pretty!" she exclaimed, slowing and very carefully lifting the lid. She peeped inside.
Then something happened.
"Oh!" cried Doreen, stamping her little foot and flinging the box across the room. "It's not a jewel box! It's not a jewel box!"
Crash! went a flowerpot from the window sill.

"Whatever is the matter?" cried mamma, running into the room.
"It's not a jewel box! It's not a jewel box!" sobbed Doreen, "and you said it was a jewel box. It isn't. It's just a horrid, nasty, ugly old book, and I don't like books, and I don't want a book — and you said it was a jewel box, and it isn't, and–and—-"
"Now, come, come, Doreen," said mamma. "You mustn't take on like this. You must have got out of bed on the wrong side this morning, and on your birthday, too!"
"But you said I should have a jewel box —–"
"And we have given you one," said mamma.
"You haven't; it's only a nasty, horrid, ugly old book!"
"No, no, Doreen. Have you look inside it yet?"
"No."

"Then you have cried too soon. You will find that it is a most beautiful jewel box, packed full of the richest gems."
Doreen began to dry her tears.
"Daddy and I," said mamma, "have spent lots of money on this jewel box, and if you look after it, you will have it all of your life. It is very beautifully and very strongly made, and when you are an old, old lady, if time should last that long, you will still be telling people about the lovely jewel box you were given on your tenth birthday."
"But where are all the jewels?" asked Doreen.
"You must go and look for them," said mother. "I will help you find some of them later on."
Doreen's curiosity was aroused, and she walked across the room to pick up the mottled green box.

"I'm sorry I knocked your plant over, Mamma," she said.
"Yes, that is too bad," said mamma, "but I will sweep up the mess this time if you will start looking for those jewels."
Picking up the box, Doreen kissed mamma and went upstairs to her room.

10 years old, bicycle, birthday, brown paper, character building, doll's house, emeralds, gleaming, golden rings, jewel box, jewels, mottled green, old book, package, parcel, rattle, richest gems, sparkling diamonds, stones, Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories, velvet cushions

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Doreen's Jewel Box – Chapter 1

Posted by Lacy in Stories on Monday, February 16, 2009

Since I didn't post a What Am I today, due to the fact that I wasn't here to post it, I thought I would share the first chapter of Doreen's Jewel Box (from Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories volume 5-8) in it's place. I hope you enjoy it! What do you think Doreen will get for her 10th birthday?

Doreen's Jewel Box

Chapter 1 — Five Minutes To Ten

Just one more week, and it would be Doreen's birthday. To think of it! She would be ten years old. Mamma said she was just "five minutes to ten."

Doreen felt she was now quite grown up, and that it was time she had some grown-up presents. Indeed, she was not at all backward in saying out loud what she was expecting.
"You see, Mamma," she would say, "my tricycle is much to small for me now, and I really ought to have a small lady's bicycle."
Then a little later, "Mamma, when I'm ten I think I should have a doll's house big enough to get inside; you know, the kind you open at the front, with real stairs and fireplaces and electric light."
And then, "Oh, yes, Mamma, and I simply must have a new outfit of clothes for my big doll — all silk this time."

To all of which mamma listened patiently, explaining that she really hadn't any money this year, and that it took all she had to buy food and clothes for the family.
But Doreen didn't seem to hear.

"You know, Mamma," she went on, "when I'm ten I should like a pretty jewel case with some pearls in it."
"Whatever next!" exclaimed mamma, looking up from her knitting. "Whoever put that idea into your little head?"
"Well, Kittie Naylor's got a whole string of pearls she wears at parties, and the big people wear them, and princesses."
"But it isn't the jewels that make people princesses," said mother. "And as for Kittie Naylor's pearls, they are made of paste."
"Then they can't cost very much," said Doreen.
"That may be," said mamma, "but my little girl surely does not want to go about wearing a sham. There's nothing makes a girl look so cheap as imitation jewelry."
"Well, then, can't I have a string of real pearls?"

"My dear Doreen! They would cost more than everything in this house. Pearls are very expensive. But apart from the expense, people who really love Jesus do not wear pearls."
"Why not?"
"Because the Bible tells us not to." 1 Timothy 2:9
"Oh dear!" sighed Doreen. "It seems as if I can't have anything now. I wish I weren't going to have a birthday at all."
"Oh, don't say that," said mamma. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if something would turn up between now and then."
"My new cycle?" cried Doreen eagerly.
"I don't think it could be that," said mamma. "It would cost too much. But, let me see, if you are very anxious for a jewel box, I might talk with your daddy about that."
"Oh, do!" exclaimed Doreen. "I should love one so much."
"Well, we'll see," said mamma with a smile.

1 Timothy 2:9, 10 years old, character building, cheap, Children story, children's stories, doll house, Doreen, electric light, imitation jewelry, Jesus, jewel box, jewel case, jewels, knitting, pearls, Princess, princesses, real pearls, sham, small lady, string of pearls, tricycle, uncle arthur, Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories

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The Two Carolines

Posted by Lacy in A Godly Maiden, Stories on Wednesday, January 14, 2009

I thought I'd share a short story from one of my old books "Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories" called The Two Carolines. I always enjoy reading these stories.

The Two Carolines

How a Little Girl Learned That Home and Company Manners Should Be the Same

Caroline Herman was a very nice little girl in many ways. She had pretty brown hair and big brown eyes, and when she was all dressed for school in her navy-blue uniform, you would have thought, to look at her, that there wasn't a nicer little girl in all the world.
But there were two Carolines. One was the home Caroline and the other was the school Caroline. The home Caroline was left on the doorstep every morning, and picked up every dinner time when the school Caroline came back. Now the home Caroline was a cross, pouty, grumbly, growly, and disobedient Caroline, quite unlike the Caroline that everybody saw outside and thought was such a nice little girl. Mother was worried almost to tears over her two Carolines. What could she do?
She thought it over, and devised a plan.

Now Caroline loved her school-teacher very much. Indeed, by the way she acted, it seemed she loved her teacher more than she did even her own mother. She would take her flowers and other pretty things to show her affection, and of course teacher, seeing only the school Caroline, thought she must always be a very good girl indeed.

One day the school Caroline came home and changed suddenly on the doorstep, as usual, into the home Caroline. Mother called to her as she came in.
"Will you please go round to the store and buy me some groceries?"
"No, don't want to, I'm tired," snapped the home Caroline.
However, she finally decided to go under protest.
While she was gone a visitor came to see Mrs. Herman, and being shown into the drawing room, sat down in a corner out of sight.
Caroline returned.

"Here are your old things," she said, throwing them down on the floor. "Now I'm going out to play."
"But mother's tired, wouldn't you like to help her finish her work?"
"No, I don't want to."
"Well, please lay the table for dinner."
"Don't want to."
"But you must do something to help mamma. Please lay the table, Caroline."
"I do hate laying the table," said Caroline, slamming the door, and putting on a pout that would almost frighten any one. Pulling out the tablecloth from the drawer with many grumblings, she spread it out in a rough-and-tumble sort of way. Then she brought out the knives and forks, scattered them among a few necessary dishes, and prepared to walk off.

Mother looked displeased, but did not say anything until Caroline was about to go. Then she said,
"Caroline, we are to have a visitor to dinner tonight. In fact, you might call her in now; she is in the drawing room."
Caroline's face paled. Looking round, she noticed that the drawing room door was open.
"But, mother dear," — her tone had suddenly changed, — "the table is not set for visitors."
"No, but it is set for mother."
"But, mother, I would like to arrange it better."
"It is too late now. We must not keep our visitor waiting. Please call her in."
Very pale, and trembling a little, Caroline went into the drawing room.
"Mother says, Will you please ——"
She stopped. It was her teacher!
"O teacher, have you heard all I have been saying? Oh dear, dear, dear!" cried Caroline, bursting into tears.
"I am sorry my little Caroline is not the same at home as she is at school," said the teacher.
"O, I'm so sorry!" wept Caroline. "I won't ever be so naughty again."

And really, to tell the truth, she never was; for always after that she could never feel quite sure that there was not some one listening to her in the next room. Mother told her, too, that

"Jesus is the unseen guest at every meal,
The silent listener to every conversation."

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