BY PATTEN BEARD Author of “The Jolly Year,” “Marjorie’s Literary Dolls,” “The Jolly Book of Boxcraft,” “The Bluebird’s Garden,” etc. THIRTEEN PICTURES OF HAPPY THINGS THAT WERE MADE BY THE CHILDREN IN THE SHOP OF THE GOOD CROW CAW CAW, DRAWN AND ARRANGED BY THE AUTHOR WITH MARGINAL BY MR. ARTHUR HULL Copyright 1917 By PATTEN BEARD THE PILGRIM PRESS BOSTON THIS BOOK OF THE HAPPY SHOP IS DEDICATED TO HENRY JARRETT AND CAW CAW, HIS GOOD PLAY CROW...

ONCE a year, Aunt Phoebe came to visit in the city at Jimsi’s house. Aunt Phoebe was Mother’s best friend. Jimsi and Henry and baby Katherine had known her ever so long. They could not remember the time when they did not know Aunt Phoebe. Probably the time dated back to the age of rattles and squeaky rubber dolls when the children were so small that they knew nothing at all about Aunt Phoebe’s Good Crow, Caw Caw. You see, Aunt Phoebe was a “play aunt.” She did not really belong to the family as

THE first thing Jimsi said, when the train stopped at a little station where Aunt Phoebe was waiting to greet them on the platform, was, “Oh, Aunt Phoebe, I saw the Crow. He followed the train. I’m sure it must have been your crow because I heard him say caw-caw!” Aunt Phoebe smiled. “Wasn’t that funny,” she laughed. “Wait, Jimsi, you’ll really see my crow soon. He’s in The Happy Shop now. But don’t expect too much, dear. You mustn’t be disappointed!” They walked through the little country town

THE sun woke Jimsi in the morning. It was peeping into the little blue room from between the evergreen trees outside. For a moment, Jimsi wondered where she was and then she remembered, of course! She hopped into her red woolly wrapper and slipped on the slippers that had Peter Rabbit’s picture on their toes. The door was open into Aunt Phoebe’s room and in she ran to say good-morning. “I just can’t wait to see The Happy Shop, Auntie,” she chirped. “Please, might I go and look at it right away n

The next day Jimsi dashed down to the Good Crow’s letter-box hoping for a letter. But there was none. Aunt Phoebe said that she thought the crow meant that there was no need for him to write till Jimsi needed a new kind of magic play. It was a bit disappointing not to find a letter in the mail-box, but Jimsi consoled herself. Aunt Phoebe was going to let her water the plants every morning. There was a cunning little watering-pot painted red. It stood in a corner of The Happy Shop. It was really

SURE enough, there was a crow letter in the mail-box next morning! It was written on the same wee note paper with a real crow stamp that was drawn in pencil in the upper right-hand corner. Jimsi brought it to breakfast with her and read it aloud—exactly as if Aunt Phoebe didn’t know what was in it already! You know, that was the crow play always! This was the letter: “ Dear Jimsi : To-day, I want you to do something for me . You see I do quite a bit for you . I like to make you happy, you know,

OF course after the first visit to the little lame girl’s home, Jimsi made ever and ever so many others. They not only made paper dolls and paper dolls’ furniture and paper dolls’ dresses and furnished paper dolls’ houses and had paper doll motion pictures but they did other things with their Magic Books, too. Once, they tried kindergarten weaving with strips that they cut out of colored papers. Another time, they twisted long strips of the wall paper to make old-fashioned “lamp-lighters” for Jo

IN the days that passed after Joyce and Jimsi made the valentines and cards, ever so many things happened. They played other things beside crow plays—checkers and dominoes and Messenger Boy games. But, after all, the Magic Book with the fun in it was best of all. Crow had written them both letters and in his last letter he had said: “ Dear Jimsi : Find your own something to do in the Magic Book I gave you. If you think , you’ll find something more that is as jolly as valentine-making.” Jimsi wen

JIMSI had been so busy that morning that I do believe she had quite forgotten the all-important surprise that the good crow promised her in the afternoon. When she came home to Aunt Phoebe’s and put the round-robin letter under Aunt Phoebe’s luncheon plate, she thought of it. “I wonder what it can be,” she mused. “Oh, I do wonder.” Then she flew upstairs to wash the paint off her hands before the bell tinkled in the hall. She had just time to brush her hair and wash up. Then she heard Aunt Phoeb

THE next morning bright and early before breakfast, Henry was downstairs in The Happy Shop busy with the finishing of last night’s scrapbook. It had a handsome cover of dark wall paper with a design of large and splendid flowers and leaves colored purple and red and green and dull blue. To tie the cover on, Henry was using strands of raffia of the same shades. Aunt Phoebe did basketry and had quite a big basket full. The children were always welcome to use it. He was so interested that he just s

JUST as soon as little Katherine had tried her pin-wheels indoors, Henry and Jimsi decided that outdoors where there is wind, pin-wheels would turn much better and faster, so the children jumped into cloaks and caps and made for the garden. It was still too early to go over to see the little lame girl. They all decided to wait and make the crow’s butterfly and bird toys when Joyce could try them, too. But the pin-wheels were really out-door toys and one had to run about to make them go. Katherin

THE Good Crow, Caw Caw, must have been very busy writing letters and making things that Saturday, for hardly had the children sat down to luncheon, and hardly had Henry undone his napkin than—out dropped a crow letter. Oh, oh, my! How funny! And hardly had Jimsi lifted her napkin to take it out of the ring than lo—there, under it, was another crow letter. Oh, oh, my! And then, as Mother took Katherine’s napkin to fasten it on there appeared a crow letter addressed to Katherine lying on the lunch

THE next day was Sunday. In the afternoon Jimsi ran over to see the little lame girl. They did not play with the Magic Book. The little lame girl did not feel very well. She was reading in her chair that stood in the bow-window. She was very glad to see Jimsi for, somehow, she had been feeling very lonely and wishing that she were like other children who could run about and do the many active things that were denied her. “I’m cross today, Jimsi,” she greeted. “I’m discontented. Once in a while i

THAT night after tea, Aunt Phoebe curled up on the lounge. “Jimsi,” she said, “I don’t feel like reading and I don’t know what to do. Come talk to me. What’s the matter, dear? You hardly said a thing all through supper. Don’t you feel well?” “Oh, I’m all right, Aunt Phoebe,” Jimsi declared. “But I was thinking—I want to make some money dreadfully! ” “What for?” Aunt Phoebe drew Jimsi onto the couch beside her. “Is it for Christmas, Honey?” she asked. Jimsi shook her head from side to side slowly