"It was rather stupid," said Gus, "to shorten the pleasantest month in the whole year. I would have clipped December or March."
"Please don't forget to tell us," said May, "how the months got their names."
"The first six of them were called after the heathen deities, Janus, Februus, Mars, Aphrodite, Maia, and Juno; July was named after Julius Cæsar, the inventor of leap-year; August after Augustus the Emperor. The names of the last four months simply mean seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth."
"But," said Joe, "December is not the tenth month, nor is September the seventh."
"That is true," said the Professor; "but those names are supposed to have been given by Romulus, who arranged a year of only ten months, and made it begin with March. His year only had 304 days in it, and was soon found to be much too short. So the months of January and February were added, and instead of being placed at the end, they came in some way to stand at the beginning."
"Now please tell us about the names of the days of the week, and we will not ask any more questions."
"They were called after the sun, moon, and five planets known to the ancients, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. You easily recognize sun, moon, and Saturn, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday are from names given by some of the Northern tribes of Europe to Mars, Jupiter, and Venus. Mercury's day seems scarcely at all connected with his name, but comes from Wodin, who was imagined to be chief among the gods of those barbarous tribes."
He was only a little street sweeper, you know, Barefooted, and ragged as one could be; But blue were his eyes as the far-off skies, And a brave-hearted laddie was Tommy Magee. But it chanced on the morning of Valentine's Day Our little street sweeper felt lonely and sad; "For there's _no fun_," thought he, "for a fellow like me, And a valentine's something that _I_ never had."
But he flourished his broom, and the crossing made clean For the ladies and gentlemen passing his way; And he gave them a smile, singing gayly the while, In honor, of course, of St. Valentine's Day. Now it happened a party of bright little girls, All dainty and rosy, and brimming with glee, Came over the crossing, a careless glance tossing To poor little barefooted Tommy Magee.