“Seems to me you are wandering from the subject.”
“No, I ain’t; we are to write about vegetables or animals, and I’m
doing both: for boys are animals, aren’t they?” cried Nan; and,
undaunted by the indignant “No!” shouted at her, she calmly
proceeded,
“One more interesting thing is done with sponges, and this is when
doctors put ether on it, and hold it to people’s noses when they
have teeth out. I shall do this when I am bigger, and give ether to
the sick, so they will go to sleep and not feel me cut off their legs
and arms.”
“I know somebody who killed cats with it,” called out Demi, but
was promptly crushed by Dan, who upset his camp-stool and put a
hat over his face.
“I will not be interruckted,” said Nan, frowning upon the unseemly
scrimmagers. Order was instantly restored, and the young lady
closed her remarks as follows:
“My composition has three morals, my friends.” Somebody
groaned, but no notice was taken of the insult. “First, is keep your
faces clean second, get up early third, when the ether sponge is put
over your nose, breathe hard and don’t kick, and your teeth will
come out easy. I have no more to say.” And Miss Nan sat down
amid tumultuous applause.
“That is a very remarkable composition; its tone is high, and there
is a good deal of humor in it. Very well done, Nan. Now, Daisy,”
and Mr. Bhaer smiled at one young lady as he beckoned the other.
Daisy colored prettily as she took her place, and said, in her
modest little voice,
“I’m afraid you won’t like mine; it isn’t nice and funny like Nan’s.
But I couldn’t do any better.”
“We always like yours, Posy,” said Uncle Fritz, and a gentle
murmur from the boys seemed to confirm the remark. Thus
encouraged, Daisy read her little paper, which was listened to with
respectful attention.
“THE CAT
“The cat is a sweet animal. I love them very much. They are clean
and pretty, and catch rats and mice, and let you pet them, and are
fond of you if you are kind. They are very wise, and can find their
way anywhere. Little cats are called kittens, and are dear things. I
have two, named Huz and Buz, and their mother is Topaz, because
she has yellow eyes. Uncle told me a pretty story about a man
named Ma-ho-met. He had a nice cat, and when she was asleep on
his sleeve, and he wanted to go away, he cut off the sleeve so as
not to wake her up. I think he was a kind man. Some cats catch
fish.”
“So do I!” cried Teddy, jumping up eager to tell about his trout.
“Hush!” said his mother, setting him down again as quickly as
possible, for orderly Daisy hated to be “interruckted,” as Nan
expressed it.
“I read about one who used to do it very slyly. I tried to make
Topaz, but she did not like the water, and scratched me. She does
like tea, and when I play in my kitchen she pats the teapot with her
paw, till I give her some. She is a fine cat, she eats apple-pudding
and molasses. Most cats do not.”
“That’s a first-rater,” called out Nat, and Daisy retired, pleased with
the praise of her friend.
“Demi looks so impatient we must have him up at once or he won’t
hold out,” said Uncle Fritz, and Demi skipped up with alacrity.
“Mine is a poem!” he announced in a tone of triumph, and read his
first effort in a loud and solemn voice:
“I write about the butterfly,
It is a pretty thing;
And flies about like the birds,
But it does not sing.
“First it is a little grub,
And then it is a nice yellow cocoon,
And then the butterfly
Eats its way out soon.
“They live on dew and honey,
They do not have any hive,
They do not sting like wasps, and bees, and hornets,
And to be as good as they are we should strive.
“I should like to be a beautiful butterfly,
All yellow, and blue, and green, and red;