Billy Popgun.
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Pearl Diver!
I Will Give It To My Mother.
Billy Popgun.
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Forget About Worry!
They Never Once Thought.
Tanglewood Tales.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Illustrations By: Milo Winter
Rand McNally & Company: Chicago & New York. 1913.
A Special Breakfast!
“Something New In The Way of Breakfast Food.”
Billy Popgun.
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Move That Big Rock!
The Great Rock Stirred!
Tanglewood Tales.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Illustrations By: Milo Winter
Rand McNally & Company: Chicago & New York. 1913.
A Fish!
From the story “Under the Sea.”
Billy Popgun.
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Charity Begins At The River Bank!
“I am going to Iolchos,” answered the young man.
Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did not know that anybody was near. But beside him stood an old woman, with a ragged mantle over her head, leaning on a staff, the top of which was carved into the shape of a cuckoo. She looked very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm; and yet her eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox, were so extremely large and beautiful, that, when they were fixed on Jason’s eyes, he could see nothing else but them. The old woman had a pomegranate in her hand, although the fruit was then quite out of season.
“Whither are you going, Jason?” she now asked.
She seemed to know his name, you will observe; and, indeed, those great brown eyes looked as if they had a knowledge of everything, whether past or to come. While Jason was gazing at her, a peacock strutted forward, and took his stand at the old woman’s side.
” I am going to Iolchos,” answered the young man, “to bid the wicked King Pelias come down from my father’s throne, and let me reign in his stead.”
“Ah, well, then,” said the old woman, still with the same cracked voice, “if that is all your business, you need not be in a very great hurry. Just take me on your back, there’s a good youth, and carry me across the river. I and my peacock have something to do on the other side, as well as yourself.”
“Good mother,” replied Jason, “your business can hardly be so important as the pulling down a king from his throne. Besides, as you may see for yourself, the river is very boisterous; and if I should chance to stumble, it would sweep both of us away more easily than it has carried off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly help you if I could; but I doubt whether I am strong enough to carry you across.”
“Then,” said she, very scornfully, “neither are you strong enough to pull King Pelias off his throne. And, Jason, unless you will help an old woman at her need, you ought not to be a king. What are kings made for, save to succor the feeble and distressed? But do as you please. Either take me on your back, or with my poor old limbs I shall try my best to struggle across the stream.”
Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in the river, as if to find the safest place in its rocky bed where she might make the first step. But Jason, by this time, had grown ashamed of his reluctance to help her. He felt that he could never forgive himself, if this poor feeble creature should come to any harm in attempting to wrestle against the headlong current. The good Chiron, whether half horse or no, had taught him that the noblest use of his strength was to assist the weak; and also that he must treat every young woman as if she were his sister, and every old one like a mother. Remembering these maxims, the vigorous and beautiful young man knelt down, and requested the good dame to mount upon his back.
From the story “The Golden Fleece.”
Tanglewood Tales.
Written by Nathaniel Hawthorne.
Illustrations by Milo Winter.
Rand McNally & Company: Chicago & New York. 1913.
An Ideal Place to Play Dragon!
THE EDGE OF TOWN
The grape-arbor with its cool green leaves and long twisty vines and roots was an ideal place to play Dragon in. If you stretched your imagination just a little bit you could find fierce and fiery Dragons in the scaly gnarled roots of the vines.
Billy Popgun.
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
How To Build a Bumble Dragon!
“THE BUMBLE DRAGON”
All at once he came to an open place with huge rocks in it, and right in the middle lay an enormous Dragon.
He was sound asleep and snoring in a low rumble, every now and then coming to a very loud snort, and mumbling afterward.
Billy took a good long look at him. His body looked like a gigantic lizard with a long snake’s tail. His large webbed feet had claws like an eagle. But his head! Oh! What a funny head he had. It looked like a cow’s head, only there were scales on it, and a lion’s mane, and dog’s ears. Billy was just beginning to wonder why he was called a Bumble Dragon when he saw the great transparent wings of a Bumble Bee folded over his back.
From the Story “THE BUMBLE DRAGON”
Billy Popgun
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Circe’s Palace – Bad party behavior?
Circe’s Palace
Tanglewood Tales
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Illustrated By: Milo Winter
Rand McNally & Company: Chicago & New York. 1913
Whatever little fault they might find with the dishes, they sat at dinner a prodigiously long while; and it would really have made you ashamed to see how they swilled down the liquor and gobbled up the food. They sat on golden thrones, to be sure; but they behaved like pigs in a sty; and, if they had had their wits about them, they might have guessed that this was the opinion of their beautiful hostess and her maidens. It brings a blush to my face to rekcon up, in my own mind, what mountains of meat and pudding, and what gallons of wine, these two and twenty guzzlers and gormandizers ate and drank. They forgot all about their homes, and their wives and children, and all about Ulysses, and everything else, except this banquet, at which they wanted to keep feasting forever. But at length they began to give over, from mere incapacity to hold any more.
“That last bit of fat is too much for me,” said one.
“And I have not room for another morsel,” said his next neighbor, heaving a sigh. “What a pity! My appetite is as sharp as ever.”
In short, they all left off eating, and leaned back on their thrones, with such a stupid and helpless aspect as made them ridiculous to behold. When their hostess saw this, she laughed aloud; so did her four damsels; so did the two and twenty serving men that bore dishes, and their two and twenty fellows who poured out the wine. And the louder they laughed, the more stupid and helpless did the two and twenty gormandizers look. Then the beautiful woman took her stand in the middle of the saloon, and stretching out a slender rod (it had been all the while in her hand, although they never noticed it till this moment), she turned it from one guest to another, until each had felt it pointed at himself. Beautiful as her face was, and though there was a smile on it, it looked just as wicked and mischievous as the ugliest serpent that ever was seen; and fat-witted as the voyagers had made themselves, they began to suspect that they had fallen into the power of an evil-minded enchantress.
“Wretches,” cried she, “you have abused a lady’s hospitality; and in this princely saloon your behavior has been suited to a hog-pen. You are already swine in everything but human form, which you disgrace, and which I myself should be ashamed to keep a moment longer, were you to share it with me. But it will require only the slightest exercise of magic to make the exterior conform to the hoggish disposition. Assume your proper shapes, gormandizers, and be gone to the sty!”
Uttering these last words, she waved her wand; and stamping her foot imperiously, each of the guests was struck aghast at beholding, instead of his comrades in human shape, one and twenty hogs sitting on the same number of golden thrones. Each man (as he still supposed himself to be) essayed to give a cry of surprise, but found that he could merely grunt, and that, in a word, he was just such another beast as his companions. It looked so intolerably absurd to see hogs on cushioned thrones, that they made haste to wallow down upon all fours, like other swine. They tried to groan and beg for mercy, but forthwith emitted the most awful grunting and squealing that ever came out of swinish throats. They would have wrung their hands in despair, but, attempting to do so, grew all the more desperate for seeing themselves squatted on their hams, and pawing the air with their fore trotters. Dear me! What pendulous ears they had! What little red eyes, half buried in fat! And what long snouts instead of Grecian noses!
But brutes as they certainly were, they yet had enough human nature in them to be shocked at their own hideousness; and still intending to groan, they uttered a viler grunt and squeal than before. So harsh and ear-piercing it was, that you would have fancied a butcher was sticking his knife into each of their throats, or, at the very least, that somebody was pulling every hog by his funny little twist of a tail.
“Be gone to your sty!” cried the enchantress, giving them some smart stokes with her wand . . .
Elephant's Picture Book 