Pages for Laughing Eyes - Unknown

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      A THANKSGIVING SURPRISE.

      SLEIGHING SONG

      Hurrah! Hurrah! for the jolly snow!

      Over it we lightly go:

      Dear sister is so glad, you see,

      To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me,

      To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me—

                      Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

      Hurrah! Hurrah for the ice and cold!

      Both very young and gay and bold,

      We fear no snow, we fear no ice,

      There's naught in the world that is half so nice,

      There's naught in the world that is half so nice—

                      Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

      FOOD FOR HER LITTLE ONES

      Over the lofty peaks of many of the mountains of Europe a magnificent bird may occasionally be seen flying, while down in the valley, two thousand feet or more below, a hen may be scratching worms for her dinner, or a young lamb gamboling over the sweet meadow grass.

      From that enormous height, even, the keen eyes of the eagle can detect the movement of either, and she flies, or rather drops, straight down upon the poor fowl, and with her powerful foot kills it at a blow, or breaks the back of the pretty lamb with same terrible weapon. Then, she rises upward with her prey, to feed the little ones she has left in the nest.

      A BUSY STREET

      Here you have a picture of busy street-life in a great city. Everybody is in a hurry and everybody wishes to get ahead. The man at the left has loaded his wagon so high that he finds it hard to hold the reins. Do you see the cunning little dog in the pony-cart? He means to see all there is about him.

      A BUSY STREET

      THE NEW DOLL'S CARRIAGE

      At Christmas Jessie had a pretty French doll given to her by her aunt Amy. For weeks Jessie thought she had nothing more to wish for, but in the spring, however, when the days were warm and sunny, and nature called her out-of-doors, she found it rather inconvenient to take her dolly with her every time. She couldn't use her arms for anything else, you see, and like every other child, she liked to run and jump, and pick flowers and other things that caught her eye. But, like a good little mother, she thought her dolly needed the fresh air quite as much as herself; so one night, at the supper-table, she said: "I wish I had a carriage for Bella, then I could leave her in that when I went for buttercups and violets."

      Papa was present, and he heard her remark. In a few days Jessie's birthday would come, and both he and her mamma had been thinking of what they would give her then; for Jessie was such a good, gentle child, seldom teasing for what she could not have, that they always took especial care to remember her on such holidays.

      The innocent hint was just what he wanted. So on the birthday morn, Jessie found Bella seated in a beautiful little carriage, close beside her chair at the breakfast-table. You may be sure she was a very happy little girl then, and that she gave mamma and papa many loving hugs and kisses for their thoughtfulness and love.

      JOSIE'S FRIEND

      A TRUE STORY

      I must tell you what happened to my little girl, for we all thought it so wonderful.

      She was a dear child, only seven years old, and so anxious to have a friend all her own. One day I took her to Boston. She was wild with joy at being allowed to take such a long trip in the cars. As the train steamed out from Newport, Josie's happy little face was pressed close to the window; but after a while she grew less interested in the fields outside, and more so in the passengers near us.

      "O mamma!" she whispered to me, "do you see that little girl opposite? I want her for a friend so much!"

      The child she had noticed was indeed a sweet little girl, with hair almost as golden as Josie's own. She was soon smiling at Josie, and the two little travellers held up their dollies for each other to look at.

      But before we got to Boston my little girl had grown weary, and soon was fast asleep. When we reached Boston she awoke, and saw her little friend disappearing. Josie waved her hand to her, and then, to my great surprise, shut her eyes tight.

      "Why, darling," I said, "didn't you hear mamma tell you this was Boston? Don't go to sleep again; there are auntie and little Bess."

      "Mamma," she answered gravely, "I was not going to sleep. I was asking God to let that little girl be my friend."

      "But, my dear," I said, "you live in Newport, and you have only seen her in the cars. She probably lives in Boston. Come, auntie is hunting for us."

      Josie had a fine time at auntie's, and her cousin Bess for a while filled completely the position of friend. But the week over, and we were aboard the train for Newport; and Josie's mind was again filled with the all-engrossing subject of—a friend.

      We arrived at home in time for luncheon. Immediately after, Josie was in her room telling her sister all about her visit. Suddenly I heard a cry of joy. "O mamma! mamma! There she is! God did send her."

      I hurried into Josie's room, and there at the window stood Josie, holding up her doll, and smiling at the window of the next house.

      A second glance showed me that this was the very child we had seen in the cars.

      The little girls soon became acquainted, for little Carrie had come to spend the winter with the Endicotts, who owned the house next our cottage.

      No words can tell how happy my Josie has been with the little friend God sent her.

      BUTTERFLY WISDOM

      A butterfly poised on a wild-rose spray,

      As a child tripped by one summer day,

      And he thought: "How sorrowful she must be

      To know she can never have wings like me!"

      But the child passed on, with a careless eye

      Of the gay-winged, proud, young butterfly,

      While he fluttered about, as butterflies will,

      Sipping of honey and dew his fill.

      The butterfly spread his wings to the sky,

      As the sweet-faced child again tripped by,

      And he thought: "How envious she will be

      My beautiful azure wings to see!"

      But the child passed, with a lightsome heart,

      Where never had lodged a poisonous dart,

      While he fluttered about, as butterflies will,

      Sipping of honey and dew his fill.

      When the child again passed the wild-rose sweet,

      A

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