A Day on the Farm

A Little Golden Book by Nancy Fielding Hulick

Pictures by John P. Miller

Farmer Brown and his family live on a little farm in the country.  Every morning when the sun comes up, Farmer Brown goes out to the barn.

He milks the cows.

He feeds hay to the horses.

He scatters grain to the hungry chickens.  “Cluck, cluck, cluck!” says the old red hen.

The pig likes to have his back scratched with a stick  “Oink, oink,” he grunts.  He is very pleased.

When he has finished his chores, Farmer Brown walks back to the farmhouse.  Mrs. Brown cooks eggs and bacon and pancakes for breakfast.

“Yum, yum!” say Sally and Sam.  They are just as hungry as the animals on the farm.  Jip and Mittens are hungry, too!

At nine o’clock, the school bus comes by to pick up Sally and Sam.  Honk! Honk! The driver toots the horn.

“Hi!” say all the children in the bus.  Sally and Sam climb in and wave goodbye o Jip as the bus drives down the road.

Farmer Brown goes back to the barn.  He starts up the tractor.  It is time to cut and rake the hay.

He drives around the field in the warm sun.  Jip chases a rabbit in the tall grass.

In the farmhouse, Mrs. Brown is baking a chocolate cake.  Aunt Alice and Uncle Tom are coming for supper.  They are bringing their two children to play with Sally and Sam.

Mittens wants to lick the bowl.  “Scat!” cries Mrs. Brown.  Mittens is not really afraid, but he runs out the door.

It is noon, and time for lunch.  Farmer Brown meets the mailroom coming up the path.  He has a package for the Browns.  What can it be?

Lots of new baby chicks!  Farmer Brown carries the box out to the henhouse.  When the chicks are bigger, they will run in the barnyard with the other farm animals.

At four o’clock, Sally and Sam come home from school.  They show Mrs. Brown their new books and pencils.

It’s fun to play in the yard.  Sally climbs the apple tree, and Sam carves a boat to sail on the pond.

The children ride their pony around the field.

Aunt Alice and Uncle Tom are here for supper.  Sally and Sam are glad to see their cousins.  Mrs. Brown’s chocolate cake is a big success.  Uncle Tom eats three pieces!

The big folks sit and chat on the front porch while the children play hide-and-go-seek.  A harvest moon is rising over the fields.

Aunt Alice and Uncle Tom and the children say goodnight and drive away.

Time for bed!  Tomorrow is another busy day.  Goodnight Sally.  Goodnight Sam.  GOodnight Jip and Mittens.

~ Pinkie’s Thoughts ~

This darling Little Golden Book is very similar to another Little Golden Book I used to read as a little girl titled “The Jolly Barnyard”.  It was one of my very favourites and it still makes me smile.  “A Day on the Farm” carries a similar story but includes a complete family which “The Jolly Barnyard” doesn’t.

© 1960 Western Publishing Racine, Wisconsin ISBN 0-307-02089-4


Where Did Baby Go?

A Little Golden Book by Sheila Hayes

Illustrated by Eloise Wilkin


There once was a little girl who was always and forever asking questions: “How do birds fly?…Why can’t I touch the sky?…What makes flowers grow?…Where do snowflakes come from?”  One day, when the little girl was wandering about thinking up new questions, she saw something lying on a table.

When she pickd it up, she saw that it was a picture of a baby- a round, happy=looking baby wearing a big, floppy hat.  She ran to show her mother what she had found.

“Who is it?” the little girl asked. “Can’t you guess?” replied her mother? “No,” said the little girl.  “Have I ever seen this little baby?”  “Yes. In a way, you used to see her every single day.” “I did?”  “You did!”

The little girl thought very hard.  “Where did the baby go?” she asked.  “Well,” said her mother, “when she first lived here, she didn’t go anywhere at all.  She spent most of the day sleeping.”  The little girl was quiet for a moment.  Then she jumped up and ran into her room.  She looked in her new little pink and white bed.

She looked in her mother and father’s big blue bed.  But there was no baby.

She looked in the corner of the kitchen where Duke slept on a cushion.  But there was no baby. Where did the baby go?

 “I can’t find her,” the little girl said when she came back to her mother.  “Oh, she stopped being a sleepyhead quite a while ago,” said her mother.  “Soon after, she began to crawl all over the house, like a brand-new puppy.”  “Then I’ll just go where Duke used to go when he was a puppy!” said the little girl.

She crawled behind the couch, and there she found three shiny pennies! But there was no baby.

She crawled under the dining room table, and there she found Duke’s rubber bone.  But there was no baby.  Where did baby go?

“I  still can’t find her,” the little girl said impatiently.  “Are you sure?” asked her mother.  “She doesn’t crawl around like a puppy anymore,” she added.  Now she likes to play games.”

“Games!” cried the little girl, clapping her hands.  “What kind of games?”  “One of her favorites is hide-and-seek.”  “That’s one of MY favorites!  I’ll go and look in all the good hiding places.”

She looked in the hall closet, and out tumbled Daddy’s snow boots.  But there was no baby.

She looked behind the living room curtains, and there was her yellow teddy bear.  But there was no baby.  Where did the baby go?

“That baby isn’t anywhere,” the little girl said sadly to her mother.  “I think that if you’ll lok one more time, you’ll find her.  I’ll give you just one hint; She likes to dress up in my clothes,” her mother said.

The little girl dashed off to her mother’s closet and flung open the door.  She searched among the dresses.  But there was no baby?

She searched among the shoes.  But there was no baby.

She searched among the hats- What was this?  Here was the hat that baby was wearing in the picture!

The little girl sat on the floor in front of the full-length mirror and tried on the hat.  She turned this way and that, admiring herself.

Suddenly she looked closer at the face peering out at her from under the hat.  “My eyes are blue – just like that baby’s” she said to herself.  “And my nose looks just like that baby’s too – only bigger.  I can even smile like that baby.  I LOOK JUST LIKE THAT BABY,” she said out loud, “ONLY I’M BIGGER!”

Running back to her mother, the little girl called out happily, “Mommy, I know where the baby went!”  “You do?” said her mother, pretending to look all around the room. “Where is she?”  “Here I am!” the little girl said, and she ran and jumped into her mother’s arms, feeling vry pleased with herself!

~ Pinkie’s thoughts ~

The illustrations in this book remind me of being a little girl.  Some of the same furniture styles and types of little girl toys were also found in my house.  Did you ever read this book as a child, or to your children or grandchildren?

Golden Press Western Publishing Company, Inc Racine, Wisconsin.  Second Printing, 1976. © 1974.

Mousekin’s Family by Edna Miller

Mouskin's Family

 Lightening streaked through the forest. Thunder rolled in the hills. Mousekin darted under a burdock leaf to keep the rain away.

From beneath his leafy umbrella, Mousekin could see his home in the branches of the wild cherry tree. He had been away from his nest for a short mousetime… for as long as it takes a pink baby mouse to grow a coat of soft grey fur and leave the warmth of its mother’s side. It was Mousekin’s turn now to watch over his young as they learned how to live in the forest.

While he waited for the rain to stop falling, Mousekin busily nibbled fruit blown from a nearby tree. He never even noticed the stranger that shared his leaf in the storm until he felt something furry snuggle close beside him.

Too startled

Too startled to squeak, or give more than a backward glance, Mousekin raced to the cherry tree. He hurried along a rain-drenched branch to a very small opening known only to woodpeckers and whitefooted mice.

There were no sounds of baby mice at play inside the down-filled hollow. Mousekin’s nest was empty. As he turned to search for his family, Mousekin heard a twittering call.

Firefly Light

Far below, in the firefly light, stood the strange creature Mousekin had glimpsed under the burdock leaf. It had small mouse eyes, small mouse ears, tiny mouse paws with hind legs much longer than his own. Perhaps it was one of his mouselings that had strayed from the cherry tree nest. Mousekin gave a welcoming squeak, calling the little mouse home.

The furry form sat quietly and seemed not to hear.

Mousekin whistled and squeaked again. A mouse must always come when called! He drummed his paw upon a branch, coaxing the baby to climb. Whitefoot mice must learn to climb to live alone in a forest! The mouse baby never looked up.

Mousekin skittered down the wold cherry tree and gently nudged the little creature. He turned and ran lightly from stone to stone until he came to the hickory tree. The mouseling bounded beside him in great long leaps.

Squirrel cousins

Perhaps his squirrel cousins could teach the mouse to climb… for there is no safer place than some craggy tree hollow when a whitefoot mouse must hide.


The squirrels chattered noisily leaping from tree to tree where branches barely met. But the baby didn’t stop to watch the racing and chasing far above him. He leaped in higher and wider circles beneath the hickory tree.

If the little mouse wouldn’t climb, then he must learn to build a safe home upon the ground. Mousekin scrambled here and there gathering moss and grasses, tucking them all carefully beneath a ledge of stone. A porcupine cousin, safe within his coat of quills, watched Mousekin as he worked… but the dainty jumper skipped about and never turned his head.

Mousekin shuddered

Mousekin shuddered as he heard the wailing call of the screech owl and the answering bark of a fox. He knew what could happen to any small mouse without a home in the forest! Perhaps his beaver cousins could teach the mouse to build. There is no stronger home than a beaver’s lodge when an owl and a fox are near.

Mousekin hurried to the stream with the jumper close beside him. Far upstream they could hear splashing and sharp slapping sounds upon the water.

They peered into the night as far as mice can see.


Mousekin watched his beaver cousins work… gnawing and whittling around a tree  until it fell upon the shore. He watched them float the branches out to their log-filled homes and listened as they slapped the water with broad, flat tails to signal their going and coming.

But the only thing the naughty jumper saw was a great hawk moth. He chased the insect up and down along the stony bank. Mousekin heard a turtle sigh as it drew inside its shell. The little mouse would never learn to build a home by watching.

But there were other lessons to be learned. A mouse must know when it is time to gather and to store and when it is time to eat the fruit as it ripens in the sun. Mousekin turned a blackberry around and around in his paws. His whiskers twitched with mousy pleasure. The baby mouse sat quietly, looking straight ahead, not touching the food which Mousekin placed so temptingly beside him. Suddenly, the mouseling sprang–

He flew past the blackberry bush.

He flew past a chipmunk eating an early meal. With one long leap the mouseling jumped into a burrow.

Chipmunk cousin

But the chipmunk cousin didn’t want an uninvited guest. The air was filled with squeaks and squeals and angry scolding. The little mouse scrambled back up through the chipmunk doorway.

The little creatures barely heard a woodchuck cousin’s warning whistle–  A hungry hawk was circling high watching the scene below.


Mousekin scrambled quickly into the nearest tree and hid beneath broad leaves. The chipmunk darted into its burrow, pushing leaves and dirt up tight against the entranceway …but the little jumper sat alone in the middle of the clearing.

As the hawk swooped low for its tiny prey, a large jumping mouse bounded forward and snatched her baby in a gentle grip.

In one swift motion, both mother and baby disappeared into the deep shadows of the underbrush.


Mousekin knew then that the strange little creature was a cousin and not one of his own.

For what seemed like a very long time Mousekin sat quietly in the tall grass. The wind blew and a long, low rumble of thunder broke the stillness once again. A drop of rain slid past him.

Mousekin turned to search the woods for a family all his own. Three whitefoot mice with whitefoot ways were waiting somewhere for him. He hurried along familiar paths back to the wild cherry tree…and the patter of rain, like tiny mouse feet, followed him into the forest.

~ Pinkie’s Thoughts~

I absolutely love the illustrations in this book and think Ms. Miller did an amazing job of bringing the animals to life. As a side note, I did not know what a burdock leaf was. It is from a biennial plant whose leaves can grow to be 28″ long with a wooly underside that is native to The Old World.  The copywright is © 1969. “Mouskin’s Family” is dedicated “To Teddy”. The Library of Congress Catalog Card Number is 69-12673.

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