St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, September 1878, No. 11

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St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys
and Girls, Vol. 5, September 1878,
No. 11

The Project Gutenberg EBook of St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and
Girls,
Vol. 5, September 1878, No. 11, by Various This eBook is for the use
of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions
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Title: St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, September
1878, No. 11
Author: Various
Editor: Mary Mapes Dodge
Release Date: December 28, 2005 [EBook #17409]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ST.
NICHOLAS MAGAZINE ***

Produced by Juliet Sutherland, LM Bornath, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

[Illustration: SHIPWRECKED. Drawn by J.W. Champney.]

ST. NICHOLAS.
VOL. V. SEPTEMBER, 1878. No. 11.
[Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.]

FERN-SEED.
BY CELIA THAXTER.
She filled her shoes with fern-seed, This foolish little Nell, And in the
summer sunshine Went dancing down the dell. For whoso treads on
fern-seed,-- So fairy stories tell,-- Becomes invisible at once, So potent
is its spell. A frog mused by the brook-side: "Can you see me!" she
cried; He leaped across the water, A flying leap and wide. "Oh, that's
because I asked him! I must not speak," she thought, And skipping o'er
the meadow The shady wood she sought. The squirrel chattered on the
bough, Nor noticed her at all, The birds sang high, the birds sang low,
With many a cry and call. The rabbit nibbled in the grass, The snake
basked in the sun, The butterflies, like floating flowers, Wavered and
gleamed and shone. The spider in his hammock swung, The gay
grasshoppers danced; And now and then a cricket sung, And shining
beetles glanced. 'Twas all because the pretty child So softly, softly
trod,-- You could not hear a foot-fall Upon the yielding sod. But she
was filled with such delight-- This foolish little Nell! And with her
fern-seed laden shoes, Danced back across the dell. "I'll find my mother
now," she thought, "What fun 't will be to call 'Mamma! mamma!'

while she can see No little girl at all!" She peeped in through the
window, Mamma sat in a dream: About the quiet, sun-steeped house
All things asleep did seem. She stept across the threshold; So lightly
had she crept, The dog upon the mat lay still, And still the kitty slept.
Patient beside her mother's knee To try her wondrous spell Waiting she
stood, till all at once, Waking, mamma cried "Nell! Where have you
been? Why do you gaze At me with such strange eyes?" "But can you
see me, mother dear?" Poor Nelly faltering cries. "See you? Why not,
my little girl? Why should mamma be blind?" And little Nell unties her
shoes, With fairy fern-seed lined, And tosses up into the air A little
powdery cloud, And frowns upon it as it falls, And murmurs half aloud,
"It wasn't true, a word of it, About the magic spell! I never will believe
again What fairy stories tell!"

MACKEREL-FISHING.
BY ROBERT ARNOLD.
When I was a boy, I lived on the rugged coast of New England. The sea
abounded in cod, hake, mackerel, and many other kinds of fish. The
mackerel came in "schools" in late summer, and sometimes were very
plentiful. One day, my uncle James determined to go after some of
these fish, with his son George, and invited me to go with them. We
were to start before day-break the next morning. I went to bed that
night with an impatient heart, and it was a long time before I could go
to sleep. After I did get asleep, I dreamed of the whale that swallowed
Jonah, and all kinds of fishes, big and little. I was awakened by
somebody calling, in a very loud voice, "Robert! Robert!" I jumped out
of bed, with my eyes not more than half opened, and fell over the chair
on which I had put my clothes. This made me open my eyes, and I soon
realized that the voice proceeded from my cousin George, who had
come to arouse me for the fishing-voyage.
I dressed as quickly as possible, and went downstairs. All was quiet in
the house except the old clock ticking in the kitchen. I went
out-of-doors and found the stars still shining. It was half-past three

o'clock in the morning. There was no sign of daylight, and even the
cocks had not begun to crow. In the darkness I espied George, who said,
"Come, it is time to start. Father is waiting
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