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Title: Smiles and frowns for good and bad little children
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002010/00001
 Material Information
Title: Smiles and frowns for good and bad little children
Physical Description: 128, <30> p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Baker, Sarah S ( Sarah Schoonmaker ), 1824-1906
Baker, Samuel F ( Engraver )
Hazard, Willis P ( Willis Pope ), 1825-1913 ( Publisher )
Kite & Walton ( Printer )
Publisher: Willis P. Hazard
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Manufacturer: Kite & Walton
Publication Date: 1852
 Subjects
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1852   ( lcsh )
Hand-colored illustrations -- 1852   ( local )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1852   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Hand-colored illustrations   ( local )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
 Notes
General Note: Vignette on cover.
General Note: "With twelve engravings."
General Note: Illustrations are hand-colored.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
General Note: Some illustrations engraved by Baker.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
Statement of Responsibility: by the author of "My little geography", "Christian year for Children", "Simple facts", etc.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002010
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002237624
oclc - 15265485
notis - ALH8113
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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
    Frontispiece
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
    Copyright
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    Main
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_ __ .. LI ifoI









SMILES AND FROWNS



FOR




GOOD AND BAD LITTLE CHILDREN.



BY

THE AUTHOR OF
"MY LITTLE GEOGRAPHY." CHRISTIAN YEAR FOR
CHILDREN." "SIMPLE FACTS," ETC.


\


Wrft) tboeIbe Engrabngls.





PHILADELPHIA:
WILLIS P. HAZARD, 178 CIIESNUT ST.
1852.

























COPYRIGHT SECURED ACCORDING TO LAW.
















KITE & WALTON, PRINTERS,
No. 50 North Fourth St.

















CONTE NTS.





Page.
THE LITTLE GLUTTONS, 9
THE HAPPY PLACE, 17
THE FLY AND THE PROFESSOR, 21
DEAR MOTHER, 24
THE AWKWARD BOY, 26
DAME TROUNCER, 31
GOOD NIGHT, 34
POOR PATRICK, 37
TIE PROUD VASE, 39






vi CONTENTS.

Page.
THE OLD HEARTH BRUS, 41
MY NEEDLE, 46
PUNC, 48
THE CANDY FROLIC, 52
LAZY HARRY, 58
GRANDMAMA'S IBLE, 62
THE CRY-BABY, 64
SISTER JENNIE, 71
MY DEAR LITTLE GARDEN. 76
LOST CHILD, 80
THE OLD CHIMNEY CORNER, 83
ETTA'S THOUGHT, 86
WE'LL LOVE ONE ANOTHER, 88
THE OLD PUMP, 92
THE MITTENS, .
POOR THING, 97
THE FIRE, 101
MISS PRINKY, 103
HARSH WORDS, 106








CONTENTS. vii

Page.
THE LITTLE CHICKENS, 111
AFRAID, .114
THE BABY'S AWAKE, 116
THE YOUNG STREET SWEEPER, 121
BRIGHT COLORS, .124
HUNTING FOR BERRIES, .127




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THE LITTLE GLUTTONS.


HREE fat little brothers
Once lived in Dundee,
The greediest youngsters
1You ever did see.

One day said their father,
My children give ear,
I've sent for a playmate
To sup with you here."
2 *. ..
'. "'9''






10 SMILES AND FROWNS.

The boys were delighted,
They shouted with glee
At thought of the goodies"
To come with their tea.


With eye-lids wide open,
And smacking of chops,
They watched the provisions
Come in from the shops.


And when on the table,
The dainties were dressed,
SThey hardly were willing
To wait for the guest.


But soon came their father,
And slowly he led
A queer little body,
Enveloped in red,


0







11


THE LITTLE GLUTTONS.

Who wore a long mantle
And cap, with a veil,
Which hid him completely,
As coating of mail.


They gave him a greeting,
Right hearty, I wist;
And shook through his mittens,
His hard little fist.


A moment in silence,
They wondering sat;
But supper was ready,
They had not to wait.


As soon as at table,
They gathered around,
The stranger grew restless
And uttered a sound."





12 SMILES AND FROWNS.

Among the nice dishes
He poked all about;
The children were startled-
He ate with a snout!


He jumped on the table;
On four feet he went;
He guzzled and grunted,
And seemed quite content.


A pig on the table!
Then shouted the boys-
But still he kept eating
In spite of the noise.


Now see," said the father,
A playmate for you;
For as he is acting,
You frequently do.







THE LITTLE GLUTTONS.


Like him, you are willing
To feast all the day;
'Till you are too stupid
To work or to play.


I trust you'll resemble
The creature no more;
So now we will drive him
Right out from the door.


"But if my dear children
Are greedy again,
I will take them to visit
The pig in his pen."


With hooting they hurried
The pig from his meal;
He trotted out quickly,
With many a squeal.


A^


13





14 SMILES AND FROWNS.

The fat little brothers
All lived to be men,
Yet never ate supper
With pig in his pen.









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THE HAPPY PLACE. I




SWEET little school
house,
Had Margaret Lee,
Where .children were
happy
As squirrel or bee.
Above it was waving
A noble old tree;
Around it the play-ground
Was green as could be. ";: b
3


" '2. .





18 SMILES AND FROWNS.

There early each morning,
Young faces came in;
As fresh as the roses,
Where dew-drops have been;
And children in dresses
As neat as a pin,
Were cheerfully ready
For school to begin.

And oh! how they studied;
They spelt and they read,
They wrote and they ciphered,
And lessons they said.
They sewed on their patchwork,
To make a nice spread;
Or practised at knitting
On garters instead.

The light of the school-room,
Was Margaret Lee;






THE HAPPY PLACE.


Beloved by the children,
How happy was she;
She moved round among them,
Their progress to see,
And cheerfulness followed
Her footsteps so free.

The last of their duties
Was dearer than play,-
It was the sweet singing,
That finished the day.
And when it was over,
All laughingly gay,
To home in the distance,
They scattered away.

The children who gathered
So happily there,
Grew wiser and better
In Margaret's care;


19





20 SMILES AND FROWNS.

Like sails that are wafted
By winds that are fair,
And blossoms that open
In sunniest air.
















THE FLY AND THE PROFESSOR.




ONE bitter cold morning,
A limping old fly,
Was hungry and chilly,
And ready to die.


His wings were disabled,
He scarcely could crawl;
By wearisome stages,
He crept down the wall.





22 SMILES AND FROWNS.

At last on a table,
He landed his feet,
Quite hopeful of lighting
On something to eat.

Of books, pens and papers,
There was a supply;
But nothing that promised
To nourish the fly;

For though he was hungry,
He hardly could think,
He'd relish a dinner
Of wafers or ink.


A learned Professor
Was sitting near by;
He watched with attention
The wretched old fly;







23


THE FLY AND PROFESSOR.

And just as the insect
Was quite in despair,
The gentle Professor
Arose from his chair;

And soon of nice sugar,
He brought a supply,
And feasted the hungry,-
The desolate fly.


The creature thus rescued,
He took for a pet;
And never its welfare,
Was known to forget.


The fly was thus guarded
'Till winter was o'er;
Then fully recruited,
He flew from the door.














DEAR MOTHER.




O let me thread your
needle, Mother,
It hurts your eyes, I
know;
You used to tie my
cotton, Mother,
When first I learned to sew.


I like to run for you, dear Mother;
I am not tired at all.
How many steps you took, dear Mother,
For me, when I was small.







DEAR MOTHER.


If I am through my life, dear Mother,
As kind as I can be;
I never can repay, dear Mother,
What you have done for me.


4


25















THE AWKWARD BOY.




AN awkward boy was Enoch Crane,
He heard it every day;
His clumsy boots and elbows sharp,
Were always in the way.


He never rose to cross the room,
But some unlucky chair,
Was sure to trip him as he walked,
Or give his coat a tear.



























































t.:a







THE AWKWARD BOY.


His head and hat were loth to part;
His clothes were full of dust;
His hands were destitute of gloves,
And in his pockets thrust.


But chiefly, when at table placed,
His awkward manners shone;
He never saw the butter-knife,
But always used his own.


He spilled his tea upon the cloth,
4 In rivulets and seas;
Or dropped his over-loaded plate,
And caught it on his knees.

And if he thought to be polite,
And hand his neighbor bread,
He gave it such a sudden jerk,
She trembled for her head.


29





30 SMILES AND FROWNS.

Of mind and heart, enough had he,
To make a charming boy;
But no one, for his awkwardness,
His presence could enjoy.


Thus wit and worth are oft obscured
By manners impolite;
As mist can hide the brightest stars,
That gem the brow of night.
















DAME TROUNCED.




DAME TROUNCER kept, in olden times,
The strictest school in town;
She always wore a kerchief stiff,
And cap with awful crown.

She sat upon a high-backed chair,
Her ferule in her hand;
And looked about with stately air,
As born but to command.






32 SMILES AND FROWNS.

Her lips were thin, her nose was hook'd,
Her eyes were twinkling gray;
Ah! wo betide the luckless child,
That dared to disobey.


Of punishments she had a score,
Of every sort and kind;
From those that made the body smart,
To those that crushed the mind.


Split-quills she placed on talking tongues;
Her ferule slapped the hand;
And children, tied with back to back,
For hours were made to stand.


The dunce-block was the shameful seat,
For idle scholars kept;
And not a boy in school so brave,
But sitting there, he wept.







DAME TROUNCED.


A foolscap tall, was added too,
The culprit's fault to show;
It's gaudy tassels dangling o'er
The doleful face below.

Ah! lessons oft were studied well,
For fear of such disgrace;
None loved to wear the foolscap tall,
Or take the dunce's place.

Dame Trouncer now is dead and gone,-
TifQsciool-house tumbled down;
But grandpapas remember well,
The strictest school in town.


88




w wpwprw


GOOD NIGHT.




NOISY band,
From "Nursey's"
hand,

They come to bid
good night;
No painter bold,
On canvass old,
Has sketched a fairer sight.


Their bath has shed
The roses red
Upon their dimpled cheeks;


,st :r







GOOD NIGnT.


But on their tops,
The limpid drops
Have played the strangest freaks.

The stiffest hair
Has changed its air,
To order now reclaimed;
And silken curls,
Like naughty girls,
Look sheepish and ashamed.

Their simple slips,
With graceful dips,
Have left their shoulders bare;
And plainly show,
From knee to toe,
How round and white they are.

Now lowly stoop
The little group,


85





06 SMILE AND FROWNS.

And fold their hands with care;
With lifted eyes,
And earnest guise,
They lisp their evening prayer.
The kiss goes round,-
Good nights resound,--
They flit like things of air.















POOR PATRICK.




FOUR children small poor Patrick had,
He other wealth had none;
He loved each rosy child as well
As if he had but one.

While in the harvest field for them,
He toiled one summer's day,
His little son had followed him,
To frolic in the hay.






88 SMILES AND FROWNS.


The father paused and wiped his brow,
While sighing wearily;
The smiling child uprose in haste,-
A happy thought had he.

He tottered to a spring just by;
The rude old cup he filled,-
With earnest care he brought it back,
And not a drop was spilled.

The father kissed his little one,
And then the water quaffed;
The child looked on and clapped his hands,
And merrily he laughed.


Oh, sweeter was that simple drink,
By thoughtful love outpoured,
Than all the wine so dearly bought,
To grace a monarch's board.















THE PROUD VASE.




A CHINA Vase, with painted side,
An earthen Crock by chance espied;
"How dare you thrust your ugly face
So near my beauty ?" said the Vase.


"My maker formed me as you see,"
The Crock replied, with dignity;
"Why you should boast, I cannot say,
For you, like me, are made of clay."






40 SMILES AND FROWNS.

The foolish child, of beauty vain,
Despises often features plain;
But she who gives such feelings place,
Is quite as silly as the Vase.















THE OLD HEARTH BRUSH.




THERE was a time when I was new,
And gay with painting bright;
I wore a cord and tassel then,
My hair was long and white.


One day a newly-married pair
Selected me to buy;
Now I shall leave this stupid shop,
And have some fun, thought t.
6





42 SMILES AND FROWNS.

But no; they put me in a room
As neat as it could be,
Where not a creature ever came,
And there was naught to see.

At length there was a blessed change,
When weary months had been;
A fire was kindled on the hearth,-
They let the sunlight in.

And soon a kind old nurse appeared,
A baby on her knee;
And 0, to watch that little thing
Was fun enough for me.

At first it seemed a mop of clothes,
All tumbled in a heap;
It nothing did for weeks and weeks,
But cry, and cat and sleep.






STHE OLD HEARTH BRUSH.

And yet the visitors declared
It was a noble child;
Just like its father when it frowned;
Its mother-when it smiled.

All this the parents took for praise,
A thing most strange to me,
For such an ugly little face
I never chanced to see.


I think the baby fancied me,
Its eyes it oft would keep,
With earnest glances fixed on me,
Until it went to sleep.

The hearth was swept exceeding clean,
Yet I was used with care,
For nursey never scratched my back,
Nor burnt my bristling hair.


48





44 SMILES AND FROWNS.

That was a happy, happy time,
But soon it hurried by;
The baby grew a sturdy boy,-
The sufferer was I.

When he could talk, and run about,
A wilful child was he;
Although he had a hundred toys,
He chose to play with me.

I did not want for exercise;
I served him for a gun-
A fishing-rod-a walking stick,
And horse to ride upon.

To injure me, appeared to be
The urchin's chief desire;
Whene'er the nurse was out of sight,
He poked me in the tire.






THE OLD HEARTH BRUSH.


I hoped the smell the truth would tell,
And he would get a cuff;
But nursey never noticed it,
For she had taken snuff.


At last my every lock was singed,
And I was bald in spots;
My gaudy paint was worn and bruised,
My cord was torn to jots.


Just then a stylish stove they bought;
They closed the chimney wide;
My usefulness was over now,
And I was thrown aside.


Here in the garret, lone and cold,
Neglected now I lie;
And like the poet lodging here,
I write my history.


45















MY NEEDLE.





AM happy sewing here,-
Little Needle thou art dear;
While thou movest to and
fro
Pleasant thoughts will come
and go.
I think about the merry play,
I had with brother yesterday;
The pretty toys and story-books,
The gardens, fields, and little brooks;






MY NEEDLE.

Of mother's gentle kiss at night;
Of father's praise when I do right;
Of God, who all these joys has given,
And of the shining home in heaven.
I am happy sewing here,
Little needle, thou art dear;
While thou movest to and fro,
Happy thoughts will come and go.










PUNCH H.




POOR Punch, she was an ugly cat,
The torment of the house,
On stolen dainties she was fed,
And scorned to eat a mouse.

Her once black coat was dusty brown,
With every hair on end;
To smooth it down, like other cats
She would not condescend,


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She loved to sharpen well her claws
On knotty Walnut logs,
And with arched back to stand, and spit
Defiance at the dogs.


All day long, in every place,
You met her unawares;
At night she roused you out of sleep,
By mewing on the stairs.


One friend had Punch, a negro child,
Who loved the ugly thing,
And thought her darling cat, at least,
Might look upon a king."


61












THE CANDY FROLIC.

A TRUE STORY.




THE kitchen chimney roared with fire;
Although the night was wet,
Amelia and two roguish friends,
Had for a frolic met.

Amelia's mother with the sick,
That night had gone to sit,-
Now taffy-boilings," "candy scrapes,"
She never would permit.






THE CANDY FROLIC.


The children first molasses bought,
From out a neighbor's shop,
And then a shallow spider" took,
And filled it to the top.


The heat was great, and very soon,
The hot molasses rose,
They snatched it boiling from the fire,
And spilt it on their clothes.


And when they dared to put it back,
They stirred it all the while,
And each in turn a martyr stood
Before the burning pile.

At last, when almost dead with heat,
They found it tiresome fun,
And having tasted it again,
They thought it must be done.


63




54 SMILES AND FROWNS.

They poured it in an open dish,
And set it in the air;
The spider on the table put,
And left it standing there.

The candy was not done enough,
And to their fingers clung;
They could not pull it smooth and white,
But stringing there it hung.


It now was late, and well they knew
The cook would soon appear,
And every noise the shutters made,
Aroused their guilty fear.


They daubed the candy on the chairs;
They dropped it on the floor;
And covered with a coating thick
The knfob of every door.






THE CANDY: FROLI.


Unwillingly convinced at last,
It never would be hard,
They rolled it in a woollen cloth,
And threw it in the yard.


Then busily they went to work
To get the kitchen clean,
That not a piece to tell the tale
Should anywhere be seen.


But when they raised the spider up,
They were distressed to see
Three little spots the legs had burnt,
As black as they could be.

In vain they tried to get them out,
With water, soap and sand,
In witness of the candy scrape,"
They seemed resolved to stand.


55




56 SMILEtS AID FROWNS.

The cook returned at ten o'clock,
The visitors were gone;
And weeping, in her little bed,
Amelia was alone.


"To-morrow I will tell the truth,"
At length she firmly said;
She fell asleep, and when she woke,
The morning sky was red.

Her mother, who had just returned,
Was standing at her side;
"And so," she said, "while I was gone,
A 'candy scrape' you tried."

For she had traced the sticky marks
Upon the kitchen wall,
And when she saw the spider marks,
She understood it all.






THE CANDY PROLIC.


57


The child confessed with tears her fault,-v-
Forgiveness she obtained;
And never by a 'candy scrape,'
Again her mother pained.













LAZY HARRY.



THE daylight is breaking,
The robins are waking;
The ant has been busy
For almost an hour;
The bee is out buzzing
From flower to flower.

The squirrels are eating;
The lambs are all bleating;
The chickens are risen
With crowing and cluck;
And merrily swimming,
Are goslings and duck.



















/44~l'


TIE STRIPED SQUIRREL.


S ..' ,







LAZY HARRY. 61

Your sister and brother,
Are greeting each other;
Then up, little Harry,
As quick as you can;-
A boy that is lazy,
Won't make a great man.


















GRAN IDMA MA' S BIBLE.




AT grandmama's, our holidays,
We children always spent,
And oft when tired of noisy plays,
To sit with her I went.


And what a happy child was I,
When she upon her knee,
Would let the great old Bible lie,
And pictures find for me.

!'A~~i
*^r' *






GRANDMAMA'S BIBLE.


And then of Joseph she would tell;
Of Moses and of Ruth;
And of the infant Samuel,
And David's shepherd youth.

Then she would sit so sweet and calm,
While I the Bible took,
And read a short and easy psalm
From out the holy Book.


Long esses oft misled me so,
That funny words I made,
She kindly my mistakes would show,
And no contempt betrayed.


And when I laid the Bible by,
Sweet counsel she would give,
Which to remember I shall try
As long as I shall live.

^ s l


63















THE CRY BABY.




WHEN Lucy was an infant,
The nurse would often say,
This fretting, crying baby
Will deafen me some day.


And as the child grew older,
Her lungs increased in power,
She gave them constant practice,
By screaming every hour.







THE CRY BABY.


She cried when she was sleepy
Or hungry, cross or sick,
And oh! when nursey washed her,
How she would yell and kick.


When she could run and prattle,
She'd cry and hold her breath,
Until her loving parents
Were almost scared to death,


She sniffled, whined and whimpered,
Her fists thrust in her eyes,-
She screeched, and roared and bellowed,
Till weary with her cries.


Her face was always dirty
Where tears had streaked it down,
Her mouth was stretched with crying;
She wore a constant frown.
9 1 I


65





66 SMILES AND FROWNS.

Her parents punished,--coaxed her,
But it was all in vain;
The next unwelcome trifle
Would set her off again.


At last, when she was seven,
And not improved a bit,
They were resolved to cure her,
And thus they managed it.

They said, since like a baby
To act, she seemed inclined,
They'd treat her like a baby,
Until she changed her mind.

They dressed her like an infant,
In long and flowing frocks;
Her hair was closely shaven,-
They put her feet in socks.






THB CRY BABY.


They hired a sturdy woman,
Long armed, and six feet high,
To come and nurse Miss Lucy
Until she ceased to cry.


At first poor Lucy struggled,
She pushed and yell'd and fought,
But she was held the tighter;
Her struggles were for naught.


She had to take her supper
From out a bowl of pap,
And then be trotted after,
Upon the nurse's lap.


Two days the child was noisy,
The third her cries were less;
The fourth she pleaded, sniffing,
To wear another dress.


67






68 SMILES AND FROWNS.

The fifth she only whimpered,
And did not dare to bawl;
The sixth, her fault was conquered-
She did not cry at all.


And when the week was over,
The nurse was sent away,
And Lucy, changed completely,
Was merry at her play.


Miss Lucy's baby clothing
Was in the nursery kept,
To show her as a warning,
When she too often wept.


But soon it seemed a story
Improbable and wild,
That happy little Lucy,
Was once a crying child."











































































































































































.







































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SISTER JENNIE.


S N elder sister, Jennie,
Has certain things
to do;
And others,-quite
as many,
To carefully eschew.


Be patient with the baby,
Though he has fretful ways,
'Twill make him pleasant, may be,
To see your smiling face.







72 SMILES AND FROWNS.

If discontent is brewing
In any little one,
Break off what you are doing,
To make a moment's fun.


When quarrels have been started,
Then speak in accents mild,
Till all are tender-hearted,
And sweetly reconciled.


Oh, hasten not to father,
A sister's fault to tell,
But hide her error rather,
And teach her to do well.


Obedient and respectful,
Let all your manners be;
For if you are neglectful,
The children soon will be.





























































































































































































































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SISTER JENNIE. 75

Thus all by kindly treating,
In harmony may dwell,
Like spotless petals meeting
To form the lily bell.
















MY DEAR LITTLE GARDEN.




LOVED my little garden,
Beside the northern wall,
4 Though it had few attrac-
tions,
And was exceeding small.

I trod its narrow pathways,
With my unsteady feet,
And very hard I labored,
To make its borders neat.




























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MY DEAR LITTLE GARDEN.


I buried once a peach stone,
Where now the peach tree grows;
I planted there the crocus,
The violet and the rose.


My seeds would never prosper;
The reason who can say ?
To see if they were sprouting,
I dug them up each day.


My radishes were stunted,
They were too closely sown;
But then I had a cabbage,
That I was proud to own.


But 0, the sweetest pleasure,
My garden could convey,
Was when I plucked for mother,
A beautiful bouquet.


79














LOST CHILD.




OST Child two youthful
voices cried;
Then sounded forth the
bell,
To happy homes on every
side,
The mournful news to tell.

I saw two boys in humble dress.
With faltering footsteps come;
Their faces told of deep distress:
In those they left at home.







"LOST CHILD!"


Most anxiously they looked around,
And scanned each face they met;
And then "Lost Child!" aloud would
sound,
In tones I can't forget.

The children passed from out my sight,
While I the picture drew
Of all their wretchedness that night,
Till very sad I grew.

But soon I heard a sound of fun,
And on our steps there sat
The criers and the missing one,
Without a shoe or hat.

His plump, round face was rosy red,
His mouth was on the grin,
He held a monstrous slice of bread,
Which he was thrusting in.
11


81








82 SMILES AND BROWNS.

And him, the while, his brothers eyed
With evident delight;
As if were not in the country wide,
So beautiful a sight.














THE OLD CHIMNEY CO01NER.



EFORE the days of stoves
and grates,
,'^ (Which freeze our
feet, and roast our
pates,)
The workmen laid,
With honest pride,
The firm foundations, long and wide
Of the Old Chimney Corner.

Its ample space an oven held,
Whose baking never was excelled;








84 SMILES AND FROWNS.


To see it filled with bread and pies,
The children watched with wondering eyes
From the Old Chimney Corner.


And when the flying sparks betrayed
What stores of soot the wood had made;
No trembling sweep was ever known,
In filthy rags, to climb alone
From the Old Chimney Corner.


But when the day was wet and raw,
The fire was heaped with dryest straw
That caught and roared, and upward
blazed,
While merry shouts the children raised
From the Old Chimney Corner.


When wintry storms were howling round,
The traveller a welcome found;







THE OLD CHIMNEY CORNER. 85

The hungry poor a meal might eat,
And occupy the warmest seat
In the Old Chimney Corner.

How many evenings, gathered there,
The happy children, free from care,
Have earnestly their stories told,
While safely sheltered from the cold
In the Old Chimney Corner.


Those children now have older grown,
And some have houses of their own;
Yet on the past they love to dwell,
And all of them remember well
The Old Chimney Corner.

















ETTA'S THOUGHT.




A LITTLE child at evening
Was looking at the sky,
"What are the stars, dear Mother ?"
She questioned thoughtfully.


"The stars are worlds, my darling,"
The mother's voice replied,
"And God who made our dwelling,
Those worlds has beautified."







ETTA'S THOUGHT. 87

Then spoke the little Etta,
With earnest, sad surprise,
"I always thought, dear Mother,
That stars were angel's eyes !"














WE'LL LOVE ONE ANOTHER.


ONE mother had we,
How lovely was she!
Dear sister and brother.
As pale she was lying,
She bade us, when dying,
To love one another.

And when she was dead,
We stood by her bed,
Dear sister and brother;
We thought her but sleeping,
And answered her, weeping,
SWe'll love one another."











































































































































































































































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91


WE'LL LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

That vow, for her sake,
We never will break-
Dear sister and brother.
But daily more dearly,
More truly, sincerely
We'll love one another.

We'll have but one mind;
Be gentle and kind,
Dear sister and brother;
With no rude contention,
Nor slightest dissension,
We'll love one another!

In sickness and health,
In want and in wealth,
Dear sister and brother;
In seasons of gladness,
In trial and sadness,
We'll love one another!
















THE OLD PUMP.




WE children had a well at home,
It was so very deep,
We were forbid to touch the ropes,
Or down it take a peep.


But with the pump at grandmama's,
We had delightful fun;
We loved to make the handle fly,
And see the water run.






THE OLD PUMP.


Small dimpled hands were often placed
To stop the flowing spout;
While through the fingers, flying jets
Would sprinkle all about.


And when at last the water came,
And gushed with double might;
We said, "it is Niagara!"
And shouted with delight.

Sometimes we pouted rosy lips
One cooling draught to get;
Then what a spattering we took
On dress and pantalette.


When summer came with scorching heat,
Our fiend the pump, grew dry;
And.hissed and groaned distressingly,
As it were like to die.


IN >6


98





94 SMILES AND FROWNS.

We moistened well its husky throat;
Its loosened arm we plied,
'Till from its mouth there flowed again
The rushing, shining tide.


And what a beard of icicles
In winter it displayed!
And what a splendid sliding place
The surplus water made !


But I must stop; I might as well
Attempt to count the stars,
As properly to praise our pet
The pump at Grandmama's.














THE MITTENS.





IT snowed, I met two little maidens,
All cloaked and hooded warm;
The oldestt was but six years old,
Of slight, but graceful form.


An earnest look was on her features;
A look of tender care;
As safely o'er the icy pavement
She led her sister fair.





96 THE MtTTENS.

And where their hands were closely clasp-
ing,
The elder child's were bare;
The little one had both their mittens,
And wore a double pair!


I could have kissed her stiffened fingers,
Who this kind deed had done,
And willingly the cold had suffered,
To guard the little one.

















POOR THING.






HE cold night air
Is on her hair;
Her feet are bare.
Her clothing spare
Can never warm
That childish form,
In such a storm;
The poor thing!
13






98


SMILES AND FROWNS.

She has no bed;
Her lips once red,
Are pale instead
For want of bread.
Is no help nigh ?
And must she lie
Down here to die;
The poor thing!


Some hope of cheer!
A man is near,
He does not see her.
His home is here;
Glad children greet
His coming feet,
And kiss the sleet
From his face.






POOR THING!


The keen wind blows;
Her feet are froze,
Yet on she goes
Through cold and snows;
The crowd go past
The poor outcast;
Worn out at last,
Down she drops.


A sempstress, late
At work has sate;
Though mean her state,
Her heart is great;
She sees the fall,
And wraps her all-
Her scanty shawl
Round the child.


99






100 SMILES AND FROWNS.

She bears her o'er
One crossing more,
And stands before
Her humble door;
A fire is there,
And food to spare,
And tender care
For the child.















THE FIRE.



THE fire it is pleasant,
At coming of night,
When children sit round it
With faces as bright,
And list to the kettle
That sings to repeat,
While lazily swinging,
The comforts of heat.


The fire it is wondrous,
When roaring and red,





SMILES AND FROWNS.


It glows neathh the bellows,
And lights the dark shed,
While near stands the blacksmith,
To beat the hot bars,
And sparks are set flying
Like wandering stars.

The fire it is awful,
When raging on high,
Consuming some dwelling,
It glares on the sky;
While half-naked sufferers,
With vacant despair,
Look on till their homestead
Is blackened and bare.


102




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