The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
Animal Sketches And Stories
Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon
BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS
CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES
FABLES FOR CHILDREN
FABLES FROM INDIA
FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS
FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
For Classes Ii. And Iii.
For Classes Iv. And V.
For Kindergarten And Class I.
FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
Good Little Henry
JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]
Jean De La Fontaine
King Alexander's Adventures
KINGS AND WARRIORS
LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
Lessons From Nature
LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG
MODERN FAIRY TALES
MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED
MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES
MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES
Myths And Legends
NEGLECT THE FIRE
ON POPULAR EDUCATION
PLACES AND FAMILIES
Poems Of Nature
RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)
RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"
RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE
ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY
Selections From The Bible
SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES
Some Children's Poets
Songs Of Life
STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS
STORIES FOR CHILDREN
STORIES for LITTLE BOYS
STORIES FROM BOTANY
STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN
STORIES FROM IRELAND
STORIES FROM PHYSICS
STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA
STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY
STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK
The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers
The Little Grey Mouse
THE OLD FAIRY TALES
The Princess Rosette
THE THREE HERMITS
THE TWO OLD MEN
UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES
VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO
THE GOLDEN COBWEBS
from Children Stories To Tell
- For Kindergarten And Class I.
friend, at the kindly instance of a common friend of both; the narrator
had heard it at home from the lips of a father of story-loving children
for whom he often invented such little tales. The present adaptation has
passed by hearsay through so many minds that it is perhaps little like the
original, but I venture to hope it has a touch of the original fancy, at
I am going to tell you a story about something wonderful that happened to
a Christmas Tree like this, ever and ever so long ago, when it was once
upon a time.
It was before Christmas, and the tree was trimmed with bright spangled
threads and many-coloured candles and (name the trimmings of the tree
before you), and it stood safely out of sight in a room where the doors
were locked, so that the children should not see it before the proper
time. But ever so many other little house-people had seen it. The big
black pussy saw it with her great green eyes; the little grey kitty saw it
with her little blue eyes; the kind house-dog saw it with his steady brown
eyes; the yellow canary saw it with his wise, bright eyes. Even the wee,
wee mice that were so afraid of the cat had peeped one peep when no one
But there was someone who hadn't seen the Christmas tree. It was the
little grey spider!
You see, the spiders lived in the corners,--the warm corners of the sunny
attic and the dark corners of the nice cellar. And they were expecting to
see the Christmas Tree as much as anybody. But just before Christmas a
great cleaning-up began in the house. The house-mother came sweeping and
dusting and wiping and scrubbing, to make everything grand and clean for
the Christ-child's birthday. Her broom went into all the corners, poke,
poke,--and of course the spiders had to run. Dear, dear, _how_ the spiders
had to run! Not one could stay in the house while the Christmas cleanness
lasted. So, you see, they couldn't see the Christmas Tree.
Spiders like to know all about everything, and see all there is to see,
and these were very sad. So at last they went to the Christ-child and told
him about it.
"All the others see the Christmas Tree, dear Christ-child," they said;
"but we, who are so domestic and so fond of beautiful things, we are
_cleaned up_! We cannot see it, at all."
The Christ-child was sorry for the little spiders when he heard this, and
he said they should see the Christmas Tree.
The day before Christmas, when nobody was noticing, he let them all go in,
to look as long as ever they liked.
They came creepy, creepy, down the attic stairs, creepy, creepy, up the
cellar stairs, creepy, creepy, along the halls,--and into the beautiful
room. The fat mother spiders and the old papa spiders were there, and all
the little teeny, tiny, curly spiders, the baby ones. And then they
looked! Round and round the tree they crawled, and looked and looked and
looked. Oh, what a good time they had! They thought it was perfectly
beautiful. And when they had looked at everything they could see from the
floor, they started up the tree to see more. All over the tree they ran,
creepy, crawly, looking at every single thing. Up and down, in and out,
over every branch and twig, the little spiders ran, and saw every one of
the pretty things right up close.
They stayed till they had seen all there was to see, you may be sure, and
then they went away at last, _quite_ happy.
Then, in the still, dark night before Christmas Day, the dear Christ-child
came, to bless the tree for the children. But when he looked at it--_what_
do you suppose?--it was covered with cobwebs! Everywhere the little
spiders had been they had left a spider-web; and you know they had been
everywhere. So the tree was covered from its trunk to its tip with
spider-webs, all hanging from the branches and looped round the twigs; it
was a strange sight.
What could the Christ-child do? He knew that house-mothers do not like
cobwebs; it would never, never do to have a Christmas Tree covered with
those. No, indeed.
So the dear Christ-child touched the spider's webs, and turned them all to
gold! Wasn't that a lovely trimming? They shone and shone, all over the
beautiful tree. And that is the way the Christmas Tree came to have
golden cobwebs on it.
Next: WHY THE MORNING-GLORY CLIMBS