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The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens Being the Fourth Book of the Series   By: (1822-1894)

Book cover

First Page:

[Illustration: The good natured Giant]

THE

TWO STORY MITTENS

AND THE

LITTLE PLAY MITTENS:

BEING

THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE SERIES.

BY

AUNT FANNY,

AUTHOR OF THE SIX NIGHTCAP BOOKS, ETC.

NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 443 & 445 BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 1867.

Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1862, by FANNY BARROW, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.

I DEDICATE

THESE TWO STORIES AND THIS LITTLE PLAY

TO MY FRIEND

MR. FRANK A ,

who makes fun of me before my face and speaks well of me behind my back.

I don't mind the first a bit; and as long as he continues to practise the second, we will fight under the same flag.

LONG MAY IT AND HE WAVE!

CONTENTS.

PAGE

MORE ABOUT THE MITTENS, 7

THE PARTY LILLIE GAVE FOR MISS FLORENCE, 12

THE FAIRY BENEVOLENCE, 45

MASTER EDWARD'S TRIAL, 80

THE LITTLE PLAY MITTENS, 139

MORE ABOUT THE MITTENS.

THE mittens were coming bravely on. Some evenings, Aunt Fanny could not send a story; and then the little mother read an entertaining book, or chatted pleasantly with her children.

There had been twelve pairs finished, during the reading of the third book, and several more were on the way. George had written the most delightful letters, each of which was read to his eagerly listening sisters and brothers several times, for they were never tired of hearing about life in camp.

This evening, the mother drew another letter, received that day, out of her pocket. The very sight of the envelope, with the precious flag in the corner, caused their eyes to sparkle, and their fingers to fly at their patriotic and loving work.

"Attention!" said the mother in a severe, military tone. Everybody burst out laughing, choked it off, immediately straightened themselves up as stiff as ramrods, and she began:

"DEAR MOTHER, CAPTAIN, AND ALL THE BELOVED SQUAD: Our camp is splendid! We call it Camp Ellsworth. It covers the westward slope of a beautiful hill. The air is pure and fresh, and our streets (for we have real ones) are kept as clean as a pin. Not an end of a cigar, or an inch of potato peeling, dare to show themselves. Directly back of the camp strong earthworks have been thrown up, with rifle pits in front; and these are manned by four artillery companies from New York. Our commissary is a very good fellow, but I wish he would buy pork with less fat. I am like the boy in school, who wrote home to his mother, his face all puckered up with disgust: "They make us eat p h a t!!" When I swizzle it (or whatever you call that kind of cooking) in a pan over the fire, there is nothing left of a large slice, but a little shrivelled brown bit, swimming in about half a pint of melted lard, not quarter enough to satisfy a great robin redbreast like me; but I make the most of it, by pointing my bread for some time at it, and then eating a lot of bread before I begin at the pork. The pointing, you see, gives the bread a flavor."

The children screamed with laughter at this, and wanted to have some salt pork cooked immediately to try the "pointing" flavor. Their mother promised to have some for breakfast, and went on reading:

"We are very busy at drills. I give the boys plenty of field exercise, quick step, skirmishes, double quick, and all manner of manoeuvres... Continue reading book >>




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