THE RAINY-DAY BOX by A. B. W.

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 1, 1902

THE RAINY-DAY BOX.

By A. B. W.

[By A. B. W., in The Christian Work.]

We were discussing the approaching line storm, my neighbor and I, as we cut across lots to call on Mrs. C.

“I always dread a stormy day,” said my companion; “the children drive me about wild.”

I, too, remembered a certain stormy week when, happening in to my neighbor’s, I truly thought they had gone mad. The kitchen where the children had been banished was bedlam indeed. Small horsemen were shouting and whipping the harnessed chairs, the floor and table were strewn with litter, and that a quarrel was on was more than evident. I did not wonder at her remark.

We found Mrs. C. sorting over some silk and velvet scraps, at which I ventured the remark that “I thought crazy-work must be coming in again.”

“O, this is not crazy-work; it’s for my ‘rainy-day box.’” Seeing our puzzled expression, she hastened to explain: “When I was a child, we had the garret to flee to on stormy days. It was filled with the accumulations of years, all kinds of castaways and rubbish, and is even yet a place of blessed memories in my dreams. In the modern city flat there is no such luxury; and when the babies begin to come, one must contrive to provide some way that these shut-in days may not be too taxing on the mother, and at the same time that they may be happy days for the small folk. The rainy-day box seems the best solution. Into it (you see it is a capacious one) goes everything that I think will amuse, from baby Elsie up to our sedate John. My Cousin Sarah (she is a dressmaker in Boston) sent me these scraps for doll dressmaking. The girls already have their little work baskets filled, and these are so fresh and pretty that I thought them quite good enough for my box. They will be a surprise to the girls, who in planning a new doll outfit will be kept happily absorbed more than one stormy day.

“When mother repaired the house, I rescued these old Leslies’ Weeklies. In them are reports of the Franco-Prussian War, which John is studying, and of course they will be more than acceptable to our bookworm. For Elsie’s benefit there is this little box of assorted beads, which are new. She is just beginning to comprehend the mysteries of needle and thread. Here is a box which contains another recent addition—educational toy money, which I found at the kindergarten supply house. It cost only twenty-five cents, and contains sufficient capital to set up a banking house or grocery business in which the five may join.”

“Perhaps nothing gives more genuine pleasure than this microscope—and this,” lifting a magnet; “they are both long residents of the box. Hunting for scale and live stock on my plants affords the children great fun; looking at their hair, their finger nails, their frocks, their trousers, in fact anything that they see about them; for everything looks queer so greatly magnified.”

“Here we keep the clean penny pipes for bubble parties. You should see what fine bubbles they make. Last time we tried a new way: we used pearline instead of soap, moistening it in cold water, then turn on boiling water sufficient to make it the consistency of boiled starch. It made very large and brilliant bubbles, and keeps without molding.”

“Here is a bundle of Pan American time tables, filled with excellent views of the Rainbow City, of Buffalo, Montreal, the Thousand Islands, Niagara and the Ottawa River. Our next stormy day I intend to start them on some Pan-American scrap-books; they made some very good ones last winter from advertising cards for the Children’s Hospital. O, I save circulars, almanacs, seed catalogues, autumn leaves and ferns for spatter-work, old worsted for working perforated cards. See these natural-history cards! Just the thing to teach Elsie the names of the different animals. I got them for a song, and they can be sandwiched in many times, an elephant now, a camel then, and so on. Some days, when they have earned an especially good time, we have a popcorn party or a candy pull to finish off with, and occasionally, for exercise, I arm them with canes and umbrellas, and put them through a mock drill and march with music. The rainy-day box idea is to have, if possible, at least one surprise in store. You don’t know how the children guess and speculate what the next is to be! Sometimes the two older ones have given their pennies to provide a contribution, and great fun they have over their secret. No; since I have adopted this scheme I find that the stormy days take no more of my time than the pleasant ones in which the children can go to school and play out-of-doors. The little time in planning ahead saves me a great amount of time when the children are home for a day. I have only to initiate them into the new task or game, then can return to my own work.”

“There, I’ve learned something. Why did I never think of it?” exclaimed my neighbor, after we left Mrs. C.’s. “I shall begin at once.”

As for myself, I decided then and there that I should tell every mother I knew of this wonderful box.