Red, White, Blue Socks, Part First Being the First Book
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Red, White, Blue Socks, Part First Being the First Book - Sarah L. Barrow
Project Gutenberg's Red, White, Blue Socks, Part First, by Sarah L Barrow
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
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Title: Red, White, Blue Socks, Part First
Being the First Book
Author: Sarah L Barrow
Release Date: August 3, 2009 [EBook #29593]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED, WHITE, BLUE SOCKS, PART FIRST ***
Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
COLONEL TAKE YOUR COLORS!
THE SOCK STORIES,
BY AUNT FANNY'S
DAUGHTER.
RED, WHITE, AND BLUE
SOCKS.
Part First.
BEING
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE SERIES.
BY
AUNT FANNY'S
DAUGHTER,
THE AUTHOR OF THE LITTLE WHITE ANGEL.
WITH AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER,
BY AUNT FANNY
HERSELF.
NEW YORK:
LEAVITT & ALLEN, 21 & 23 MERCER ST.
1863.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by
S. L. BARROW,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
JOHN F. TROW,
Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper,
60 Greene Street, New York.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
DEDICATION.
My Dear Little Cooley and Georgie:
When you see that this book is dedicated to you, I hope your bright eyes will sparkle with pleasure; but I am afraid your pretty curly heads will hardly retain a recollection of a little personage who once lived close to your beautiful home on Staten Island. She remembers you, however, and sends you this soldier story with her very best love—the love she bears in her inmost heart for God and little children. And now she asks you to hunt in every corner of those same precious little heads for a kindly remembrance of your affectionate friend,
AUNT FANNY'S
DAUGHTER.
THE STORY OF THE SOCKS.
BY AUNT FANNY.
"Oh dear! what shall I do? cried George, fretfully, one rainy afternoon.
Mamma, do tell me what to do."
"And I'm so tired! echoed Helen, who was lazily playing with a kitten in her lap.
I don't see why it should rain on a Friday afternoon, when we have no lessons to learn. We can't go out, and no one can come to see us. It's too bad, there!"
"Helen, do you know better than God? asked her mother, speaking very gravely.
You forget that He sends the rain."
I suppose I was thoughtless, mamma,
answered the child; "I did not mean to be wicked, but, dear me, the time passes so slowly, with nothing to do."
Have you and George read all your books?
Oh yes! two or three times over,
they both answered; and oh, mamma,
continued Helen, if the one who wrote 'Two Little Heaps,' or the 'Rollo' book writer, or the author of 'The Little White Angel,' would only write some more books, I, for one, would not care how hard it rained. If I was grown up and rich, I wouldn't mind giving a dollar a letter for those stories.
Nor I,
shouted George in an animated tone, quite different from the discontented whine he had favored his mother with a few moments before; "the best thing is to have them read aloud to you; that makes you understand all about it so much better. I say, mamma, couldn't you write a letter to one of those delightful people and beg them to hurry up with more stories, especially some about bad children;—not exactly wicked, you know, but full of mischief. Then I am sure that they are all true. Only wait till I'm a man! I'll just write the history of some jolly fellows I know who are always getting into scrapes, but haven't a scrap of meanness about them. That's the kind of book I like! I'll write dozens of them, and give them to all the Sunday school libraries."
His mother smiled at this speech, and then said quietly, I know a gentleman who likes the story of 'The Little White Angel,' as much as you do, and he has written a letter to request the author to write six books for him.
Six! hurrah!
shouted George, how glad I am!
and he skipped up to Helen, caught her by the hands, and the