"Yes, little pet. Here are his ears, and here is his body, and here is his tail, and here are his feet, and here are some spectacles for him to see through," said auntie, drawing each article as she named it. "And here are some pretty red beads around his neck, and some rings in his ears; and now we will tie a nice blue ribbon on his tail." Here Edith suggested shoes for his feet. "Yes," said auntie. "And now he wants an apple to eat: so here is an _apple_ for him (1). Now he wants some _grass_ (2); now some _nuts_ (3). Now he is crying for a piece of _pie_ (4); no, he doesn't want that kind, he wants _gooseberry-pie_: well, rabbit, here it is (5). Here is some _bread_ for him (6), and we will spread it with nice butter; and he wants a _potato_ too (7), and a nice sweet _orange_ (8), and a _brush_ to smooth his fur (9)." Little Edith's eyes were gradually closing; but, becoming aware of the fact, she started up as if she thought of going away. [Illustration] "Stop, darling," said auntie. "We must give the rabbit a _wash-bowl_ to wash in (10), and some nice cool water in it; and now he must have a _comb_ (11), and a _cup and saucer_ to drink his tea from (12), and a _doll_ to play with (13). Now he says he wants a _house_ to live in (14), with a tree growing by it, and a nice walk to the front-door, and a fence all around it; and there he is crying for a bed to sleep on. Oh, what a rabbit you are! you want so many things! Well, here is a nice _bed_ for you (15). Now I hope you will go to sleep, and not ask for another thing; for little Edith's eyes are shut." And, sure enough, Edith was fast asleep. C. L. K. BLOW, BLOW, EAST WIND! [Illustration: Music] 1. Blow, blow, east wind! What does the east wind do? Shine, shine, sunlight! And what does the sunshine do? The sunshine clear Goes here and there, And searches ev'ry nook; And while it is going, The wind it is blowing Much farther than you can look. 2. Blow, blow, east wind! Woodlands and valleys through! Shine, shine, sunlight! With beams of a golden hue The fields grow green By winds swept clean, But end your blowing, do! And south breezes dear Very soon will be here With the skies of a deep warm blue. * * * * * Transcriber's Note: The title page and table of contents were created for this issue following the pattern from the 1877 issues. Page 48, comma removed from text. The original read (said, he only) Page 63, end quotation mark added (his fur (9).")