Keep-Well Stories for Little Folks — Background and Themes

She had a dear little baby in her arms. You know how I love little babies. I love to tickle their noses and to lick the sweets from their juicy little mouths. I sat and watched the little fellow, awaiting my chance to make his acquaintance. Presently the lady gave the baby some milk to drink from the pitcher in which I had had such a nice bath. After the little fellow was fed, the lady put him to sleep and laid him in his crib in the next room for his morning nap. My friends told me to come with them into this room, the nursery. The lady had forgotten to put a net over the little fellow; so I crawled around and ate some sugar from his lips. It tasted so good that I crawled almost into his mouth.

Since that happy morning, I have spent almost every day between the farm-house and out-houses. I have my daily bath in the milk pitcher and my dinner from the nice juicy food on the table. Very often I get my lunch of sweets from the corners of the baby's mouth, and I like this best of all.

For several days I have felt lonely. I noticed that the baby did not come to the dining-room to get his milk and sugar. I kept wondering why he did not come, and finally I wandered into the nursery to see for myself. What do you think? The baby was lying in his crib all red and hot. While his mother was busy, I crawled on his mouth to see if there was any sugar in the corners for a lunch. Then away I flew.

This morning I flew over to the farm-house again, through the kitchen door, and into the nursery. I thought I would find a glass of milk and have a nice bath and my breakfast. But, alas! the baby was not in his crib. The room was so still and cold it frightened me and I flew out. I saw several strange men and women; the women were all crying and the men looked sad. A man was fastening something white on the front door. I tried to understand it all, but I could not catch any word except "TYPHOID." I wonder what that means, anyhow? As no one will tell me, I must be off to the next farm-house to hunt a good dinner.

This was a sensible fly, do you not think so, children? Thousands of other flies might tell the same story if we would only watch their habits and listen to what they have to say.

1. I wonder if any of you can guess what was the matter with the baby on the morning the fly found it red and hot?

2. What had happened when the fly went back to it?

3. What caused the baby to have typhoid fever?

5. Where did the little fly say he was hatched? It is in such places as this--in stables and other filthy places--that all flies are hatched and raised. They all like good things to eat. Flies can smell a good thing to eat a long way off; so they soon find their way to the kitchen and dining-room. On their way to the kitchen, they often stop by the out-houses and gather on their feet and legs a lot of dirt and germs. I must tell you now that the fly can get the typhoid germ or plant only from human filth.

NOTE.--The teacher should have an inexpensive microscope and show the children a fly,--its head and its feet especially.

6. Have you ever seen a fly under a magnifying glass? On the bottom of the fly's feet are little glue-like pads and a number of little hairs on his body and feet, to which germs and bits of dirt stick. The fly in this story had come to the farm-house for the first time, you know, when he found the pitcher of milk and had such a nice bath. He had been gathering germs and dirt on his feet, both from his early home in the barn-yard and from the out-house at which he stopped on his way. Some of these germs gathered at the out-house had come from some person who had typhoid fever. As he crawled over the baby's bottle and its little mouth, he left some of the germs there and he left some in the milk pitcher also. It was careless of the mother to give her baby milk that was not covered. The mother did not know she was giving the baby milk in which there were these little plants, or germs, which cause typhoid fever.