xt7ftt4fnj5p https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7ftt4fnj5p/data/mets.xml Verhoeff, Carolyn. 1907  books b96-9-34458975 English Milton Bradley Co., : Springfield, Mass. : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. All about Johnnie Jones  / by Carolyn Verhoeff. text All about Johnnie Jones  / by Carolyn Verhoeff. 1907 2002 true xt7ftt4fnj5p section xt7ftt4fnj5p 

All About Johnnie Jones


IA 44
li   4


All About a  S


Carolyn Verhoeff

  Diantha WV. Horne


        Published by
SRton GFEaD    AS CompaHUE


        Copyright, 1907, by



          in Loving Memory
The Beautiful Life of One Little Child

   aecbrum     labams bartbell
      These Stories are Dedicated
           All Litte Children


These stories have been written with
but one object, to give pleasure to
little children, while helping them to
realize, in so far as they are able, the
highest ideals of childhood.


    It gives me sincere pleasure to introduce to
mothers and kindergartners a pioneer writer in
the unexplored field of simple, realistic stories
for little children.
    Miss Verhoeff is a trained kindergartner
who has brought to her profession a college train-
ing as well as a true devotion to children.
    It was in one of the free kindergartens situ-
ated in the less fortunate localities of Louisville
that the stories of Johnnie Jones came into being,
and grew in response to the demand of the little
ones for stories about real children.
    In the beautiful world of fairy-lore we have
a rich and splendidly exploited field of immortal
literature. The old, old stories of fairies and
elves, of giants and dwarfs, of genii, princes,
and knights with their wonder-working wands,
rings and swords, will never grow threadbare;
while the spiritual, artistic and literary value of
these stories in the life of child-imaginatien can
never be overestimated. Enchanting and valu-
able as they are, however, they should not blind
us to the need for standard realistic stories of
equal literary and poetic merit.
    A child needs not only the touch of the
wonder-working wand which transports him to
                      [I I]


a land of fascinating unrealities, but also the
artistic story which reflects the every-day ex-
periences of real life; artistic in that it touches
these daily experiences with an idealism revealing
the significance and beauty of that which the
jaded taste of the adult designates as "common-
place." That all children crave the story which
is, or might be, true is evidenced by the expression
of their faces when their inevitable question,
"is it really true" or "did it really happen"
is answered in the affirmative.
    Perhaps some of us can recall the pleasure
derived from old-fashioned school readers of an
earlier day. With all their faults they at least
did not overlook the value of standard realistic
stories. In these readers was found the very
moral story of the boy who won the day because
of his forethought in providing an extra piece of
whipcord. There was also "Meddlesome Matty,"
and the honest office-boy, the heroic lad of Hol-
land, and the story of the newly liberated prisoner
who bought a cage full of captive birds and set
them free. These and many others still persist
in memory, and point with unerring aim to
standards of human behavior under conditions
which are both possible and probable. In spite
of their imperfections and stern morality these
stories were valuable because they recited the
fundamental events of human and animal exist-


ence, in relations which revealed the inevitable
law of cause and effect, and the ethical and poetic
significance of man's relation to all life.
    As soon as children begin to realize the
distinction between the world of make-believe
and the world of actuality, or, as one small boy
expressed it, "what I can see with my eyes shut,
and what I can see when I open them," they are
fascinated with stories of real life, of "when
Father was a little boy," or "when Mother was a
little girl," or "when you were a tiny baby."
This demand of the child for realistic stories is
the expression of a real want which should be
satisfied with good literature.
    Before children are enabled by their expe-
rience to discriminate between the imaginary
and the actual world, they make no distinction
between the story of real life and the fairy tale.
During this early period a story relating the most
ordinary events of every-day life is accepted in
the same spirit, and may provoke as much or
as little wonder, as the story dealing with the
most marvelous happenings of the supernatural
world. For to the child at this stage of develop-
ment it is no more wonderful that trees and
animals should converse in the language of men
than that a little boy should do so. Until chil-
dren learn that, as a matter of fact, plants and
animals do not participate in all of the human



activities, they regard as perfectly natural stories
in which such participation is taken for granted.
On the other hand a realistic story representing
some of the most universal aspects of human
existence may provoke surprise as the child dis-
covers that his own experiences are common to
many other lives and homes. This was evidenced
by the remark of a small boy who, at the end of
a story relating the necessary sequence of activi-
ties common to the countless thousands of heroic
mothers, washing and ironing the family linen,
waggishly shook his finger at the narrator, and
with a beaming smile, said: "Now you know
that it is my Ma and Tootsie you are telling
about!" John had not discovered the fact that
the story which reflected the daily service of his
beloved mother reflected equally well the service
of thousands of other mothers. He saw only the
personal experience in the common reality and
recognized it with joy. When through similar
stories of daily life a child learns to know that his
experiences constitute the common lot, his first
feeling of surprise gives place to a greater joy,
and sympathy is born.
    The stories of Johnnie Jones were not pre-
meditated but grew in response to daily requests
for "more about Johnnie Jones." They are the
record of a most ordinary little boy, good as
can be to-day, forgetting to obey to-morrow; a



life history in which many other little lives are
reflected in the old, old process of helping the
child to adapt himself to the standards of society.
    The ideal has been to deal with the ordinary
events of daily life in a manner which will reveal
their normal values to the child. There is the
friendly policeman who finds the lost boy; the
heroic fireman who comes to the rescue of the
burning home; the little neighbor who would not
play "fair ;" the little boy who had to learn to roll
his hoop, and to care for the typical baby brother
who pulled his hair; there are the animals who
entered into the joys and sorrows of the Jones
family,-altogether, very real animals, children,
and "grown-ups," learning in common the lessons
of social life.
    The moral throughout is very pointed, and
may be considered too obvious by many kinder-
gartners, who do not feel the need of such in-
sistence in their work. Mothers, however, with
normal four-year-old boys who are likely to
follow the music down the street and get lost, or
who are equally liable to fall in the pond because
they forget to obey Father, will find a strange
necessity for pointing the moral in no uncertain
    The stories are so arranged that they may
be read singly or as a serial.
    I am sure the author will feel more than



repaid if this little collection paves the way for
more and better standard stories of reality, that
our little children may not only revel in the events
of a delightfully impossible world, but may also feel
the thrill of heroism and poetry bound up in the
common service of mother and father, of servants
and neighbors, and find the threads of gold which
may be woven into the warp and woof of daily
intercourse with other little children who possess
a common stock of privileges and duties, joys
and sorrows.
                      PATTY SMITH HILL.
Louisville, Kentucky.


Johnnie Jones and the Cookie             21
When Johnnie Jones Was Lost    . . .     26
Mother's Story of the Princess and Her
      Pigeon   .   .  .  .  .  .  .  .   33
Johnnie Jones and the Squirrel  . . .   43
Johnnie Jones and the Peach Preserves   49
How the Children Helped Tom and Sarah   56
Johnnie Jones's Story of the Stars  .   63
Johnnie Jones and Jack .      .67
Stiggins.   . .  .  .    . . . .     .   82
When Johnnie Jones Was a Santa Claus .  87
An Original Valentine .  . .   . . .     97
When Johnnie Jones Was a Cry-Baby   . 105
Johnnie Jones and the Man Who Cried
      "Wolf" Too Often  .   . .   . . 113
Johnnie Jones's Birthday Party  .       119
Mother's Story of the Spring: The Sleeping
      Beauty   .  .   .  .  .  .  .  .  127
Johnnie Jones and the Butterfly  . . 134
Mr. and Mrs. Bird and the Baby Birds  . 142
The Coming of Little Brother . . . . 151
Little Brother and Johnnie Jones . .   156
Elizabeth With the Children  . . . . 161
Johnnie Jones and the Hoop-Rolling Club  168
The Fire at Johnnie Jones's House  .   175
Johnnie Jones and Fanny .  . . . . 182
Fanny and Little Brother .  . . . . 188
When Johnnie Jones Learned to Swim     193

 This page in the original text is blank.



Johnnie Jones.  .  .   . .   .  Frontispiece
Max wagged his tail and began to trol:
    home-    .  . .   .  .  .   .  .  . 30
Such a merry time as the children had I   60
Each child came up and shook Jack's paw-. 74
When he spread his wings and flew away- 140
Then Johnnie Jones was the proudest, hap--
    piest little boy-..  .  .  .   .  . 172
The little brown pony would eat out of their
    hands .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   .184

 This page in the original text is blank.


Johnnie Jones and

        the Cookie

        NE day, when Johnnie Jones was
        a wee little boy, only three years
gjt old, Mother came home from
        down town. Johnnie Jones ran
to meet her. "Mother dear, didn't you
bring me something" he asked.
  "Yes, indeed," answered Mother, and
she gave him something tied up in a paper
bag. "Be careful," she told him, "or it
will break."
  So Johnnie Jones was careful as he
untied the string and opened the bag.
When he saw what was inside he was
glad he had not broken it, for it was a
                [ 2]



round yellow cookie with a hole in the
  "Thank you, Mother," said Johnnie
Jones, and he rolled on his back and
kicked up his heels, which meant that he
was happy. Then he sat up and began
to eat his cookie. It was very good, and
tasted as if it had molasses in it, Johnnie
Jones said. But by and by, after he had
been taking a great many bites, there
wasn't any of the cookie left in his hand,
because he had eaten it, every bit. John-
nie Jones looked at his hand where the
cookie had been, and then he began to
  "Oh, dear me," exclaimed Mother,
"what is troubling my little boy"
  "I want my cookie," cried Johnnie


  "Where is your cookie" asked Mother.
  "I ate it," said Johnnie Jones.
  "If you have eaten it, then it is all
gone," Mother told him.
  "But I want it! I want my cookie!"
wailed Johnnie Jones.
  "To-morrow I'll buy you another just
like it," Mother promised.
  "I don't want another just like it, I
want my own cookie with a hole in the
middle," and the tears came faster and
  "But, little boy," Mother said, "nobody
in all the world, nor Father nor Mother
nor Johnnie Jones, can eat a cookie and
yet have it."
  Johnnie Jones continued to cry, so
Mother brought him some brown paper,
a pair of scissors, and a pencil.


  "See here, dear," she said, "I can't
give you the cookie you ate, but you may
make a picture that will look very much
like it."
  Then Johnnie Jones ceased crying, and
Mother showed him how to fold and cut
the paper until it was like the cookie,
with a hole in the centre. They pasted
it on cardboard and placed it upon the
  "Thank you, Mother," said Johnnie
Jones, "but I don't like it so well as my
real cookie because I can't eat it."
  "If you could eat it," Mother answered,
"it would soon be gone, so the picture
is better unless you are hungry."
  And Johnnie Jones thought so too.
  After that day he never again cried for
a cookie when he had eaten it, nor for a


toy when he had destroyed it, because
he had discovered that crying could never
brng back what was gone.



When Johnnie Jones

         Was Lost

       OHINNIE Jones was lost, com-
       : pletely lost. He looked up the
          street, he looked down the
       street, and then he looked
across the street, but not one of the houses
was his home. Johnnie Jones did not like
being lost. He had not seen his mother
for a very long time, not since she had
left him in the yard at play after they
had returned from market. He had been
swinging on the front gate, when, sud-
denly, he heard the sound of music, and
saw several people running down the street.
  "Everyone must have forgotten to tell



me that there was a circus," he said to
himself. "I think I had better go see."
  Now Johnnie Jones was never allowed
to leave the yard unless an older person
was with him, but he did not think of
that, as he opened the gate and ran out
on the street to follow the gathering
  When he reached the first corner every-
one was hurrying on to the next, Tad
Johnnie Jones hurried on, too. Of course,
however, he could not run as fast as
older people, and very soon he was passed
by the crowd. Then, when he could no
longer hear the music, he looked about
him and knew that he was lost.
  He was sorry that he had gone away
from home. He thought it must be


about lunch time and he was very hungry.
Then he remembered that this was the
day Mother had promised to take him to
the park. He would have cried, had he
not been a brave little lad, and had he
not known that a boy almost four is too
old to cry, unless he is actually hurt.
  He sat down on the curbstone, and
wished and wished that some one would
come to find him.
  After a while he saw a policeman
coming towards him from across the
street. He was a very tall policeman,
but Johnnie Jones decided to speak to
him. His mother had often told him
that policemen always take care of peo-
ple, and help them whenever they can.
So he tipped his hat politely, and said,


"Please, Mr. Policeman, will you find me
Because I'm lost."
  The policeman smiled down at Johnnie
Jones until Johnnie Jones smiled up at
the policeman and forgot what a little
boy he was. Then the officer lifted him
up in his strong arms, and asked him his
name. Johbnnie Jones could tell him his
name, but he could not tell him which
way he had come from home, so they
decided to go to the nearest drug-store
and find the number of the house.
  The policeman began to tell him stories
about his own little boy whose name was
Johnnie Green, and Johnnie Jones was
so interested that he forgot to be tired.
Just before they reached the drug-store
Johnnie Jones heard a dog barking. He


looked around, and there was the very
dog that lived next door to him and played
with him every day.
  "Oh!" he said, "I know that dog! He
is Max, and he can find the way home."
"You'll take me home, won't you, Max"
he asked the dog, who was so glad to see
his little neighbor that he was trying his
best to kiss him on the face.
  "All right," the big policeman said,
"but I'll come too, so I shall know where
you live if you are ever lost again."
  Max wagged his tail and began to trot
home. Johnnie Jones trotted after Max,
and the policeman after Johnnie Jones.
It was not very long before they could
see the house, and there was Mother
standing at the gate, looking up the


Max wagged his tail and began to trot home-

 This page in the original text is blank.


street, and down the street, and across
the street, for her little boy. When she
saw him she ran to meet him and clasped
him in her arms.
  "Mother dear," said Johnnie Jones, "I
was lost, and the policeman found me,
and then Max found us both, and I shall
never again go to see a circus by myself."
  Mother told him that the band of music
he had heard did not belong to a circus,
but was the Citizen's Band on its way to
the park, and that, since so much time
had passed while Johnnie Jones was lost,
it was too late for him to go to the park
that day. Of course the little boy was
sorry to miss the treat, but he was very
glad to be at home once more.
  Mother shook hands with the policeman,


and thanked him for being kind to her
boy. As soon as he had gone, she and
Johnnie Jones went into the house for
their lunch, and, afterwards, the little
fellow was so tired that he fell asleep
in Mother's lap and dreamed that he was
a tall policeman finding lost boss.


Mother's Story of the

   Princess and Her


       im OTHER," asked Johnnie Jones,
       "what is a carrier pigeon"
          "A pigeon which is trained
        to carry messages from one
place to another," Mother answered. "In
the olden times, as there were no trains,
or steamboats, or postmen, or telegraph
offices, people would very often take
pigeons with them when they started off
on a long journey. As soon as they
reached their journey's end they would
write a letter to the family so far away,
tie it to a pigeon, and release him. Then


the pigeon would fly away home with
the message."
  "Once, in that olden time, there lived
a beautiful princess whom her father and
mother, the king and queen, decided to
send away on a visit to her grandmother.
They gave her a milk-white pony to ride,
and sent many servants to take care of
her. Now this princess had a pet pigeon
which she loved very dearly, and which
she insisted upon taking with her, though
the queen was afraid it might prove trou-
blesome on so long a journey. The
princess knew it would be a comfort to
her, however, so she was allowed to tie
it to her saddle before she bade her parents
good-by, and started off.
  "The princess had never been away
from home before, and was very much


interested in everything she saw. She
and her companions had to travel through
a great forest, and only the guides knew
the way. One night everyone was lying
fast asleep on the ground in the thick
woods, except the princess, who was wide
awake in her tent. At last she wearied
of lying there alone, so she rose, dressed
herself, and went out into the woods,
carrying the pigeon in her arms.
  "The moon was shining as bright as
day, and the little girl went for a walk.
She was thinking of the father and mother
at home, and did not notice very carefully
the direction in which she was wandering.
After a while she grew tired and turned
back. Then she became frightened be-
cause she could not see her tent, and
could not remember which way she had


come. She called for her servants, but
could make no one hear her. She ran
this way and that in the forest, but seemed
only to go further and further away from
the camp. At last, very tired, she lay
down on the ground and cried herself to
  "Next morning when the servants
awoke they were very much alarmed to
discover that the princess had left her
tent. They spent several days seeking
her in the forest, but not a trace of her
could they find. Then they went back to
inform the king and queen, who were sad
indeed to hear such news. The king him-
self rode off to search in the forest, but
even he could not find the little maid.
  "Meanwhile the princess had been wan-
dering further and further away into the


great forest, with the pigeon tied to hex
arm. Fortunately, she had brought with
her a small basket full of lunch, which
had been left by her bed in case she should
be hungry during the night. That was
soon gone, however, and then she had a
hard time finding enough to eat. But
here and there she discovered wild berries,
she drank water from the clear, cold
springs, and at night she found a comfort-
able, fragrant bed under the pine trees, or
in places where the grass was long and
soft. Sometimes wild animals came out,
and looked at the little girl, but they did
not harm her.
  "At last, the third day, she came to a
large palace in the woods. Oh! how
happy she was. A prince met her at the
door, invited her in, and gave her delicious


food and beautiful clothes.  When she
was rested after her long journey, she told
the prince who she was, and the reason
for her being alone in the forest, and
begged him to send her home. The prince
was sorry for the little princess, but he
was lonely in such a large palace, so he
asked her to live there with him. He
was very kind to her, but the princess
wanted only to go home to be with her
father and mother.
  " 'Your palace is larger and more beau-
tiful than my father's house,' she told
him, 'but I love my own home best, and
I want to go back this very day.'
  "The prince was sorrowful when he
heard what the little girl said; but, hop-
ing she might learn to care for his palace
after a while, he gave her a beautiful


room filled with lovely things, and did
everything he could think of to make her
  "The little princess did try to be happy,
but it was not possible. Every evening
she watched the birds fly back to their
nests and she wished that she, too, had
wings and could fly away home. The
pigeon was as homesick as she. He would
not eat, and pulled at the cord all the
time, trying to free himself. Finally the
little princess decided to let him fly away.
'Perhaps he can find his way home,' she
thought; 'anyway I shall let him try.'
  "She wrote a letter to her father and
mother, telling them where she was, tied
it under the pigeon's wing, and set him
free. He flapped his wings joyfully and
flew out of the window high up in the air.


Round and round he circled, until in his
own way he learned that the west was
to the right of him, the east to the left,
the north was back of him, and the south
straight ahead. Then he started off like
an arrow shot from a bow, for home was
there in the south.
  "The little princess was more homesick
than ever, left all alone.
  "Meantime the pigeon flew very swiftly,
sometimes as fast as a train can go. No
one can tell you how he knew the way,
but he flew straight back through the
woods, and after a while reached the
pigeon house just outside the palace gate.
Some of the servants who saw him fly in
with the note, caught him and carried
him to the king. The king and queen
read the letter with great joy when they


saw it had been written by their little
daughter, and all the people in the palace
were happy to know that the princess was
safe and well.
  "The pigeon flew back to the pigeon
house. 'Coo, coo, coo,' he said to all the
other pigeons, 'home is the best place in
the world.'
  "The king ordered the fastest horses
in the land, and he and the queen rode
off at once to find their little daughter.
One day she saw them coming. She
clapped her hands with joy and ran to
meet them. The king and queen were as
happy as she, and after they had greeted
her, and bade the prince good-by, they
all three rode away home. The princess
sat in front of her father on his horse,
because he could not bear to have her out
                 [4  1i


of his arms. After travelling back through
the forest they reached the palace at last.
  " 'Home is the best place in the world,'
said the happy little princess.
  " 'Home is the best place in the world,'
cooed the happy little pigeon."
  Johnnie Jones lay back in Mother's
arms. "I think so too," he said, "I like
Grandma's house and Auntie's house, but
home is best of all."



Johnnie Jones and

     the Squirrel

       OME," said Mother, "leave your
       toys now, and bathe your face
I I   and hands, for it is time to
        go down town to buy your
winter coat."
"Oh! Mother, I don't want to go down
town," answered Johnnie Jones, "because
I think Sammy Smith is coming over to
play with my new engine this afternoon."
"But what will you do when the
weather grows cold and you have no
warm coat to wear I shall be too busy
to go with you to-morrow."
"It's so warm to-day, Mother, I don't



think it will grow cold very soon, and
anyway, I don't want to go down town."
  Mother answered: "I know it will be
cold soon, perhaps to-morrow, for the
wind is beginning to blow from the north.
Come as soon as you can, I have much to
do and can't wait for you very long."
  Then Johnnie Jones behaved like a
silly little boy, although he was four
years old, quite old enough to know better.
He fussed and fumed until Mother said:
"I am sorry, but I can't wait any longer."
She went on down town and left Johnnie
  Sammy Smith did not come over to
play after all, because he had gone shop-
ping with his mother. Johnnie Jones
soon grew tired of playing alone and
wished he had not been so foolish.


  That night the north wind blew and
blew, so that, next morning, it was very
cold when Johnnie Jones awoke.    Of
course he could not go to kindergarten
nor out to play, because he had no heavy
coat to wear. He begged his mother to
wrap him in a shawl, and take him down
town in the carriage, but she was too busy.
So poor little Johnnie Jones had to stay
in the house all day.
  That evening when it was time for his
story, Mother said: "I shall have to tell
you the story of the foolish squirrel,
because you reminded me of him to-day."
  This is the story.
  Once upon a time, there lived in the
woods a little squirrel whose name was
Silver. All summer long he played about
with the other squirrels and had a very


good time indeed. Then, by and by, the
days began to grow shorter and cooler.
The trees began to drop their brightly
colored leaves and their nuts, and the
soft green grass turned brown. The wise
old mother squirrels knew what these
things meant, and they said to all the
young ones:

  "Winter is coming, so hurry away,
  You have no longer time to play.
  Gather the nuts with all your might
  Before the ground with snow is white.
  When winter comes there's naught to eat
  Except the roots and nuts so sweet,
  Which you must gather in the fall.
  So frisk away and store them all."

  The squirrels, large and small, went to
work. They found holes in the trees and



old logs in which to hide their winter
provisions, and they scampered away to
find their favorite food.
  All except little Silver. He said to
himself: "Humphl I don't believe winter
is coming so very soon, and besides, I'd
rather just play, and eat the nuts, than
work as these other squirrels are doing."
  So he played as he had all summer
long, and he kept so warm frisking about
in the sunshine that he did not realize
how short and cold the days were growing.
  At last winter really came. Oh! how
cold it was then. Silver said: "Perhaps I
had better begin gathering some nuts for
winter." But very few nuts could he find,
not nearly enough to store away. The
other squirrels, and the people who lived
near the woods, had been working while


he was playing, and had gathered in the
  Poor little Silver did not know what
to do. Winter was here and he had no
provisions. He went to all the other
squirrels and begged for some of their
nuts. They only said: "You were playing
while we were working, now you must
work while we rest and eat."
  Then Silver was sorry he had not
obeyed the wise old squirrels and he told
himself that, next year, he would surely
begin early to prepare for winter. But
there might not have been a "next year"
for Silver, if a little boy had not found
him in the woods and taken him home to
keep and feed until the spring-time



Johnnie Jones and

the Peach Preserves

        VERYONE knows that people
    i   prepare for winter during the
         summer and fall. (Bees and
         squirrels and caterpillars do,
too.) Almost everybody lays in the coal
and kindling wood for the winter fires
while the weather is still warm, and buys
warm clothing before it is time to wear it.
  In the summer, farmers cut the long
grass, and after it has been dried by the
sun, store it in the barns for the cows and
horses to eat in the winter. In the sum-
mer and the autumn, people do not eat
all the berries, and grapes, and pears and


peaches; some they make into preserves
and jelly for the winter.
  Mrs. Jones could make delicious pre-
serves. She enjoyed making it and John-
nie Jones liked to help her. He could
really help a great deal because he was
a careful little boy. Every member of the
Jones family liked peach preserves better
than any other kind, therefore Mother
usually made enough of it to fill many
jars. This year, however, she had been
so busy that she did not start her preserv-
ing very early, and when she was ready
to begin, she found it was too late to buy
many good peaches. She bought a few,
though, and preserved them with Johnnie
Jones's help.
  When the preserves was made. Mother
had enough to fill four glass jars. "Not


very much," she told Johnme Jones,
"but there is one jar for Father, one for
you and one for me, and then one more
for company." She left the jars on the
kitchen table while she went upstairs to
change her dress.
  Johnnie Jones ran out into the yard to
play. He saw Sammy Smith, Elizabeth,
and Ned across the street, and called them.
"I want to show you something," he said.
  When they came, he led them to the
kitchen and showed them the preserves.
  "I should like to have some of it,"
said Ned,-"may I"
  "We made it to use in the winter,"
Johnnie Jones explained, "when there isn't
any fresh fruit."
  "I'd like some now on a piece of bread,"
Ned insisted



  "You said one jar of preserves was yours;
give us each a taste," begged Sammy
  "I don't think Mother meant that I
might eat it whenever I wanted it," John-
nie Jones answ'ered. "But perhaps she
wouldn't care if we should each take a
taste," he added.
  Now Johnnie Jones knew he was not
allowed to eat between meals, bult the
preserves did have an attractive appear-
ance, and he thought that just one taste
would not matter.
  The top of the jar had not yet been
sealed, so it came off very easily. Johnnie
Jones gave a piece of bread, with a very
little of the preserves, to each child, and
took some for himself
  "It is good !" Ned exclaimed. "Give


us some more, Johnnie Jones, your
mother won't care."
  johnnie Jones was afraid Mother would
care, but he liked the preserves very much
and besides, he enjoyed giving it to the
children, so he gave them each a little
more and again took some for