| Kindergarten Gems|
|by Agnes Taylor Ketchum|
|A full collection of stories and rhymes for the youngest listeners. In addition to the usual fairy tales, folk tales, and fables, there are numerous stories about animals, tales of everyday doings, and stories of the seasons. The material is conveniently arranged in groups, with several stories and rhymes for each holiday and season throughout the year. Numerous black and white illustrations complement the text. Ages 4-8 |
ONCE knew a little girl named Amy Stuart, who liked
to play better than to work. She loved to run in the
garden, and hear the birds sing, or chase the
butterflies and smell the sweet flowers. Amy had no
little brothers or sister to talk to, so she talked to
the animals, insects and flowers, and she said they
talked to her, and she understood them.
One day her mother said: "Amy, I think you are big
enough now to begin to do a little work. Yu will learn,
as you grow older, that every one has some work to do,
and it is best to learn young to be industrious."
"Oh, mamma," said Amy, "I don't like to work; I would
 it is much nicer. Can't I go in the
woods a little while and play, before I do my work?"
"Well," said her mother, "as I haven't anything ready
just now for you to do, you may go."
So away went Amy through the pleasant garden into the
woods. A gray squirrel ran across her path, and Amy
called to it:
"Say, dear squirrel, you don't have anything to do but
to play and eat nuts, do you?"
"My dear child," said the squirrel, "you are very much
mistaken. I have quite a large family to support, and
am very busy now laying by a store of nuts to last them
all winter; so I cannot stop to talk to you." And away
Just then a bee came buzzing by. Amy said:
"Little bee, do you have any work to do? I never heard
of you doing anything, but getting honey from the
"Indeed," said the bee, "it seems to me I never have
time for anything but work. After I have filled my bags
with honey from the flowers, I go home to my hive,
build a beautiful honey-comb, and fill the
with honey; so you see I have plenty to do." And away
he flew to alight on a lovely pink clover.
Amy walked on a little way, when she saw some ants that
seemed to be in a great hurry. She watched them a
little while, and then spoke to one of them, saying,
"Isn't that bread-crumb too heavy for you to carry? It
makes me feel so sorry for you. I thought you could
play all the time and enjoy yourself."
"Oh," said the ant, "I am so glad to get it, that I
quite enjoy carrying it, although it is rather heavy. I
will rest awhile and tell you about a lazy fit I had
once: Our house was entirely destroyed one day. I don't
know what did it, but we just escaped with our lives.
My brothers and sister said, 'Let us build a new one;'
but I said, 'No, I am tired of working; let's go
travelling and see if we can't find a house ready-made
for us, then perhaps we will find time to play a little
like the butterflies do.' We travelled a long way, but
we found no house ready for us. As we were very tired,
we tried to get some of our relatives to share their
houses with us, but they all said, 'No, you must be
very lazy ants, or you would have built yourselves a
new house long ago.' At last we were forced to go to
work and build a house, and since then we have been
very well contented to do all the necessary." And the
little ant picked up his breadcrumb and hastened away.
Amy sat down on a stone, and this is what she said to
herself: "It seems to me that everything has something
to do, and what is so strange is, that they all
seem it like their work; but I don't believe
flowers have any employment. I will ask one of them."
So she walked into the garden and said to a handsome
poppy, "Dear poppy, do flowers ever work?"
"Of course we do; did you never hear that flowers
turned into fairies at night, and each one must do some
good deed, or it will not have any honey the next day?
Now I go and visit all the sick people, and fan their
weary eyelids with my leaves until they fall asleep."
She next walked up to the pinks, with petals of red and
 sitting modestly along the border of the
walks, and said, "Dear pink, do you, like the poppy,
turn into a fairy, and have work to do?"
"Yes, Amy," replied the pink, "while the poppy is
fanning the weary eyelids to rest, I bathe the feverish
brow with balmy dew, and when morning returns, I am
rewarded for my labors with a cupful of honey for the
Amy walked slowly home, went to her mother and said:
"The bee, the ants, the squirrels and the flowers, all
have something to do, and I think I will try to finish
hemming that towel I began so long ago."
I have since heard that Amy grew up to be a very
industrious woman, while she loved flowers, insects and
animals as much as ever.
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