Do What You Can

THERE was once a farmer who had a large field of corn. He harrowed it and weeded it with the greatest care, for he wanted to sell the corn and buy good things for his family with the money. But after he had worked hard, he saw the corn wither and droop, for no rain fell, and he began to fear that he was to have no crop. He felt very sad, and every morning he went out to the field and looked at the thirsty stalks and wished for the rain to fall.

One day, as he stood looking up at the sky, two little raindrops saw him, and one said to the other: "Look at that farmer. I feel very sorry for him. He took such pains with his field of corn, and now it is drying up. I wish I might help him."

"Yes," said the other, "but you are only a little raindrop. What can you do? You can't wet even one hill."

"Well," said the first, "I know, to be sure, I cannot do much; but perhaps I can cheer the farmer a little, and I am going to do my best. I'll go to the field to show my good will, if I can't do anything more. Here I go!"

The first raindrop had no sooner started for the field than the second one said:

"Well, if you really insist upon going, I think I will go, too. Here I come!" And down went the raindrops. One came—pat—on the farmer's nose, and one fell on a thirsty stalk of corn.

"Dear me," said the farmer, "what's that? A raindrop! Where did it come from? I do believe we shall have a shower."

By this time a great many raindrops had come together to see what all the commotion was about. When they saw the two kind little drops going down to cheer the farmer, and water his corn, one said:

"If you two are going on such a good errand, I'll go, too!" And down he came. "And I!" said another. "And I!" And so said they all, until a whole shower came and the corn was watered. Then the corn grew and ripened—all because one little raindrop tried to do what it could.

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- Baldwin Project

Grandfather's Penny

ONCE upon a time, when it was so long ago that there were no trolley cars or telephones, Grandfather was a little, little boy named John.
He lived in a wee, red farmhouse set in the middle of wide fields, and there were woods all about, and only a cow path to walk in across the meadows until you came to the stage road.
In the summer Grandfather used to have just the best time, for he knew the places where the biggest blackberries hid, and he could find the patches of checker-berries in the woods, and he knew where the brook ran swiftest to sail his boats, and he could climb the tallest apple tree that ever grew.
But in the winter it was quite different. Then Grandfather wore a little cap made of coonskin, and a bright-green tippet, and a home-spun suit, and a pair of hide boots. It was always so very cold in the country in the winter time, and Grandfather had to walk two miles to the schoolhouse, with his little tin dinner pail hung over his arm. When school was let out, he must hurry home to help with the chores, for there were kindlings to split, and the cows to fodder, and paths to dig. At night he was a tired little John, and he tumbled upstairs to bed in the attic, where the walls were all hung with strings of dried apples, and the spinning-wheel in the corner pointed its long finger at him, till he pulled the patchwork quilt high up over his cold little nose and went fast asleep.
One morning when Grandfather woke up, and jumped into his clothes, and hurried down to the [138] kitchen, he found that a dreadful thing had happened. The fire in the fireplace had gone out over-night, and nobody could set it going again, for they had no matches in those days, and the tinder box was lost. The water in the tea-kettle was all ice. There could be no breakfast until the fire burned once more.
"You'll have to take the lantern, John," said Great Grandmother, "and go to Mr. Stone's for a light. I'm sorry, little lad. Pull your cap down tight over your ears, and hurry."
So Grandfather took the big brass lantern and hurried off in the early morning, across the snowy fields, for a light. It was so biting cold that not even the wood rabbits were out, and Grandfather's toes ached, and he had to blow on his fingers to keep them from freezing—and it was a mile to Mr. Stone's! But he got there at last, lighted his lantern at Mr. Stone's fireplace, and carried it home very carefully, lest the flame go out. Then Great Grandmother started the fire, and boiled the water in the tea-kettle, and they had breakfast.
When the kitchen was warm, and breakfast was over, Great Grandmother went to the blue china mug on the chimney-piece and took out of it a big copper penny as large as a silver dollar.
"This is for you, John," she said. "You had a long walk this morning. You may buy yourself a peppermint stick."
Oh, how Grandfather's eyes danced! Pennies were scarce in the little red farmhouse, and didn't he know just how beautifully red and twisted the peppermint sticks looked in the glass jar at the store; and hadn't he wished for one all winter?
So he started out early for school—the store was such a long way off the road—skipping along, with his penny held fast in his little red mitten, thinking how good the peppermint stick was going to taste.
The snow was deep, and Grandfather had to wade through the drifts, and climb the fences; and one snow bank was so high that it came up to his waist, but he didn't mind. There was the store at the crossroads, and Grandfather opened his little red fist to look at the penny—but where was it? The penny was not there at all; it was quite gone. Grandfather had dropped his penny in the high snow bank!
Poor little boy! All the morning, as he sat on the hard bench in the schoolhouse, saying his A B, AB's. and doing pothooks in his copy book, he had to squeeze back the tears. And when he went home Great Grandmother said she was sorry, but there were no more pennies in the blue china mug. She didn't know when he could have another. So Grandfather took his shovel and dug all around in the snow bank, but he could not find his penny.
Well, the winter was very long; but, one day, the red-winged blackbirds came back to sing in the south pasture, and the song-sparrows twittered in the swamp. The blue flag blossomed, and it was spring. Grandfather laid away his coon-skin cap, and began making willow whistles, and forgot all about his penny.
One morning he took a basket of eggs to the store, to change them for sugar and tea, and he went the same way that he had gone that other morning; and he was just as happy as he skipped along down the road.
"Here's the place where the big snow bank was," he said, "right in this fence corner, but it's all melted now. Why-ee, here's my penny!"
Yes; there it was—sticking up out of the mud, not bright and shining any more, but a good copper penny just the same. All winter it had been waiting there for Grandfather to take it to the store and buy a peppermint stick. And this is the true story of how Grandfather bought his peppermint stick, after all. And this is the reason why Grandfather gives you so many pennies, dear—because he remembers how he was a little boy once, with only just one.


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THE SNOWFLAKE AND THE LEAF

THE big sky above the hard, frozen ground was dark. The little stars had hidden their winking, yellow eyes, and the round old moon had forgotten to [118] shine. Big, black clouds were hurrying past each other, back and forth, from east to west.
Up on the old oak tree, at the corner of the lane, a little leaf still clung. He was very tiny, very brown, and very much wrinkled; but still he kept a tight hold on the stiff old branch where he had lived all his life.
"Ugh!" he said, as he shivered, and clung still closer, "it's going to rain again. I'm sure I felt a drop just then."
But it was not a drop of rain, but a soft, cold something else, which nestled down among the brown wrinkles. The leaf stirred, and then shivered again.
"What is the matter?" queried a sweet voice.
"I'm very cold," said the leaf.
"Are you? What makes you cold?" asked the voice.
"I think it is—you," said the leaf, slowly; for he did not want to hurt any one's feelings.
"Oh, no; I'm sure it's not I, because I'm not cold; and if I made you cold I would be cold, too, wouldn't I?"
"I suppose you would," said the leaf, thoughtfully. "But, anyway, I'm not as warm as I am in the summertime. I'm lonesome, too, up here alone—that is, I am when you are not here," he added, politely.
"What is summer?" asked the snowflake. "I never heard about it."
"It is a very nice time," said the leaf, hugging the old tree, and drawing his tight edges close. "It's the time when you are green and soft—and warm," he added, with a sigh.
"I don't believe we have it, then, up where I live," said the snowflake; "for I never remember being green."
[119] "It is very pleasant in summer," went on the leaf. "The birds perch upon the branches here, and sing so sweetly. Once a robin built a beautiful nest just here, where we are now. It was a large nest made of hay and threads, woven nicely together. One day, after the nest was built, and the mother bird had been staying there nearly all the time, I saw four tiny birds, with great big mouths, wide open. It seemed to me that they were always calling to be fed, and the mother and father were busy from morning till night fetching worms for those hungry little ones. But before long they learned to fly, and, one by one, they left the nest and flew out into the world.
"I am never alone in the summer, for the tree is full of leaves, but they have all fallen off until only I am left. Every time the wind blows, I expect to go, too."
"Where will you go?" asked the snowflake, with much interest.
"Oh, I shall drop to the ground below, and grow smaller and smaller. Then I shall sink down underneath, where the new grass is getting ready to sprout in the spring and the violets are waiting for the sun to bid them unfold their buds."
"Is it nice down there, in the dark?" asked the snowflake.
"Oh, yes," said the leaf. "It is very warm and sweet, and not a bit lonely, for the worms and bugs and roots and seeds are all busy, getting ready for the spring."
Just then a heavy gust of wind shook the old oak tree, and down fell the little brown leaf and the snowflake, too. The snowflake melted at once, but the little leaf waited happily there until he should reach the busy little world under the ground.



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