The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII.: A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers

In Short

Published in Boston by John L. Shorey, The Nursery is a monthly magazine designed for very young readers, filled with simple stories, moral fables, and lighthearted verse. The contents range from accounts of helpful children and clever animals to winter scenes and humorous misadventures. Through engaging prose and charming illustrations, the magazine captures the realities, gentle trials, and innocent amusements of nineteenth-century childhood. It has endured as a historical snapshot of early children's periodical literature that honors the intelligence and empathy of young minds.

The Story

The magazine opens with a poignant true story about a Boston peddler who feeds street pigeons near Washington and Franklin Streets, only for the narrator to find the area reduced to ruins a year later following the devastating November 1872 Boston fire. This gives way to lively verse about a boisterous boy named Rowdy-Dowdy and a practical observation of a Shanghai hen who cleverly trains her chicks to stay put in an abandoned shed while she lays a new nest.

From the farmyard, the magazine shifts to human trials, notably the inspiring account of John Ray, a crippled orphan boy in England who trains a stray dog named Pomp to perform tricks. Through perseverance and the kindness of a patron who rents a hall, John earns enough money to support his poor aunt before learning the trade of a watchmaker. Winter themes follow in a crisp poem about children sliding on ice and a narrative about young Ellen, who cures her morning bad humor and missed paternal kisses by buying shoestrings from a struggling street vendor and inviting her inside for warmth.

Humorous animal encounters appear when a cat named Kitty unsuccessfully attempts to hunt chickens, birds, and a stinging bee, balanced by a soothing lullaby about a girl named Carrie minding her sleeping baby brother. Domestic mishaps enter the fold when a little girl named Bessie breaks a parlor clock's mainspring by winding it too enthusiastically, while a poem called "Deeds, Not Words" contrasts children's grand fantasies of being soldiers and sailors with ordinary household chores and bath-tub trials.

Science and nature find a place when a boy named Harry uses a handkerchief and a shingle boat to explain to his sister Anna how the wind fills sails. After a schoolgirl named Molly shares her daily triumphs and worries with her doll, another domestic animal tale follows: Ida captures a wee brown mouse in a canary seed bottle, houses it temporarily in a tin cage, and eventually releases it to freedom when warm weather arrives.

The collection grows more suspenseful as winter weather strands two young sisters, Julia and Emily Burns, in a blinding snowstorm. They take refuge in an old wood-chopper's shanty, light a fire with matches found on a shelf, eat their lunch, and wait comfortably until their father and a loyal dog named Tiger rescue them. Lighter moments resume as little May accidentally encourages a pig to chew up a brand-new carpet-broom, followed by a comedic dialogue between two boys, Billy and Tommy, debating "rag currency" while their dog Carlo looks on. The volume concludes with a whimsical song about Timothy Tippens and his blind horse.

How It Unfolds

The urban snapshot The issue opens with a reflection on a Boston peddler and his pigeons, contrasting everyday street kindness with the devastating ruins left by the great November 1872 fire. This urban observation sets a tone of direct connection between the adult narrator and the young audience.

The animal world Interspersed throughout the volume are precise, observant animal behaviors, ranging from an attentive Shanghai hen sequestering her brood in a shed to a curious cat learning a painful lesson from a stinging bee. Later, a young girl named Ida tenderly houses a bottle-caught mouse in a tin cage before thoughtfully returning it to freedom in the spring.

Personal industry and empathy The collection details significant personal triumphs born from adversity, most notably John Ray rising from an orphaned, crippled childhood through dog-training ingenuity to support his aunt. Similarly, little Ellen transforms her own morning bad mood and missed paternal kiss into active charity by purchasing shoestrings from a struggling street vendor.

Domestic mishaps and humor Everyday childhood errors receive affectionate, lighthearted treatment across the pages. A young girl named Bessie breaks the parlor clock's mainspring by over-winding it, while little May mistakenly offers a brand-new carpet-broom for a farm pig to chew, illustrating minor domestic trials without heavy scolding.

Winter survival and musical closure The progression reaches a peak of tension when sisters Julia and Emily successfully navigate a blinding snowstorm by building a warm fire in an abandoned wood-chopper's shanty. The volume ultimately winds down with whimsical, rhythmic verses covering domestic lullabies, children's currency debates, and the comical misfortunes of Timothy Tippens and his blind horse.

The People

John Ray begins as a crippled, impoverished orphan who worries about being a burden to his aunt. Through determination and the help of a stray dog named Pomp, he learns to exhibit animal tricks, earns enough money to support his family, and ultimately trains to become a successful watchmaker.

Little Ellen starts her day late, grumpy, and grieving a missed morning kiss from her father. Prompted by her Aunt Alice to cure her sadness by helping another, she overcomes her self-absorption by buying shoestrings from a poor street woman and inviting her inside for warmth, discovering that cheering others cures oneself.

Julia Burns acts as the capable, courageous elder sister to Emily when a sudden snowstorm traps them on their walk home from school. Rather than panicking like her younger sister, Julia leads them to an abandoned shanty, builds a safe fire with matches, serves their luncheon, and keeps their spirits high until their father and dog Tiger rescue them.

Bessie is an inquisitive child who encounters a stopped parlor clock. Wanting to be helpful, she winds it too far, snaps the mainspring, and learns a gentle lesson about leaving mechanical objects alone after confessing honestly to her mother.

Little May is an affectionate farm child who loves the animals around her. When she tries to scratch a pig's back with a new broom as she saw her father do with an old one, she causes a humorous disaster that teaches her patience and caution.

In Its Own Voice

The narrator captures the simple, engaging tone of the magazine's animal observations:

The pigeons did not seem to be at all disturbed or frightened by the noise of carriages or the press of people; but would fly down, and light on the peddler's wrist, and peck the food from the palm of his hand.

The poetry reflects playful domestic humor and rhythmic simplicity for young listeners:

Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise; Cannot play with quiet boys; Cannot play with quiet toys: Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise!

The practical moral guidance imparted throughout the stories appears in Aunt Alice's advice to young Ellen:

"I think that the best plan, in such cases, is to try to do some good to somebody," said Aunt Alice. "The best way to cheer yourself is to cheer another."

What It's Really About

The magazine explores the moral formation of children through empathy, personal industry, and keen observation of the natural and domestic world. It argues that young readers possess emotional depth and practical capability, showing they are fully capable of understanding hardship, practicing genuine kindness toward the less fortunate, and appreciating the quiet intelligence of animals. Underlying the lighthearted verse and domestic mishaps are deeper questions about resilience in the face of physical limitation, poverty, and sudden historical catastrophe like the Boston fire. It posits that true character is built through small daily duties, active compassion, and cheerful endurance rather than grandiose, unrealistic fantasies of military or maritime glory.

Why Read It Today

Modern readers seeking a genuine window into nineteenth-century domestic culture will find this magazine an absolute delight. To read it is to experience the rhythm of a slower, highly moralized era where children's literature prioritized gentle instruction, observational curiosity, and comforting family dynamics. Readers will love the charming historical details, such as street peddlers in Boston, dog-driven exhibition halls, and Victorian school routines.

However, contemporary audiences must approach the text with an awareness of period attitudes and language. Some modern readers may find the didactic moralizing, traditional gender roles, and occasional archaic phrasing slow-paced compared to modern children's media. Furthermore, references to nineteenth-century currency debates and historical events like the Boston fire require mild contextual translation. Yet, these very elements offer a rich, authentic texture. What stays with you long after finishing is the universal warmth of children learning empathy, the vividness of the animal sketches, and the reassuring comfort of a Victorian home where even the coldest winter storm ends safely by a warm shanty fire.