STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.* )LITTLE KIT.I gRETTY Kit, little Kit,Oh! you're a lovely pet!With your sleek coat, and your white throat,And toes as black as jet.It's true your eye is rather green;But then, it shines so bright,That you could catch the naughty mouseWho stole my cake last night.Ah, Kitty! sweet Kitty!You're the pet for me!Come now, I'll rock you in my lapAnd nurse you on my knee.The Baldwin Library
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.-44.Pretty Kit, little Kit,I've often fondled you,Before your little legs could walk,;And eyes were opened too;And when I laid you on the rugTo roll you o'er in play,Your kind mamma in her great mouthWould carry you away.Alh, Kitty! sweet Kitty!You're the pet for me!Come now, I'll rock you in my lapAnd nurse you on my knee.Pretty Kit, little Kit,Annie's bird can sing,Arthur's dog can carry sticksAnd Mary's parrot swing;But though you do not carry sticks,Or sing or swing, you are,With your low purr, and your soft fur,The dearest pet by far.
Yes, Kitty, sweet Kitty,You're the pet for me!Comel now, I'll rock you in my lapAnd nurse vou on my knee.
Oh! you Kit, naughty Kit,What is this I find!Annie's little bird is gone,And poll's scratched nearly blind;
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.Carlo's coat is sadly torn,Oh dear, what shall I doIYou've feathers hanging round your mouth,-It's all been done by you.Fie, Kitty! fly, Kitty!You're no pet for me!I'll neither rock you in my lapNor nurse you on my knee.BOYS' PLAY AND GIRLS' PLAY."NOW, let's have a game of play,Lucy, Jane, and little May.I will be a grisly bear,Prowling here and prowling there,Sniffing round and round about,Till I find you children out;And my dreadful den shall beDeep within the hollow tree."
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS."Oh, no! please not, Robert dear,Do not be a grisly bear;Little May was half afraidWhen she heard the noise you made,Roaring like a lion strong,Just now, as you came along;And she'll scream and start to-night,If you give her any fright.""Well, then, I will be a fox!You shall be the hens and cocks,In the farmer's apple-tree,Crowing out so lustily.I will softly creep this way--Peep--and pounce upon my prey;And I'll bear you to my den---Where the fern grows in the glen.""Oh, no, Robert! you're so strong!While you're dragging us along,I'm afraid you'll tear our frocks.We won't play at hens and cocks."!'If you won't play fox or bears,I'm a dog, and you be hares;Then you'll only have to run--Girls are never up to fun."
"You've your play, and we have ours,Go and climb the trees again.I, and little May, and Jane,Are so happy with our flowers.
Jane is culling foxglove bells,May and I are making posies,And we want to search the dellsFor the latest summer roses."
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.THE STAR.TWINKLE, twinkle, little star,How I wonder what you are!Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky.When the blazing sun is gone,When he nothing shines upon,Then you show your little, light,Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.Then the traveler in the darkThanks you for your tiny spark:He could not see which way to go,If you did not twinkle so.In the dark blue sky you keep,And often through my curtains peep,For you never shut your eye,Till the sun is in the sky.As your bright and tiny sparkLights the traveler in the dark,Though I know not what you are,Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS. /IFATHER IS COMING.THE clock is on the stroke of six,The father's work is done;Sweep up the hearth and mend the fire,And put the kettle on:The wild night-wind is blowing chill,'Tis dreary crossing o'er the hill.He is crossing o'er the hill apace,He is stronger than the storm;He does not feel the cold, not he,His heart it is so warm:For father's heart is stout and trueAs ever human bosom knew.He makes all toil, all hardship light:Would all men were the same!So ready to be pleased, so kind,So very slow to blame!Folks need not be unkind, austere;For love hath readier will than fear.
Nay, do not close the shutters, child;For far along the laneThe little window looks, and he
Can see it shining plain:I've heard him say he loves to markThe cheerful firelight through the dark.
STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.And we'll do all that father likes;His wishes are so few:Would they were more; that every hourSome wish of his I knew:I'm sure it makes a happy day,When I can please him any way.I know he's coming by this sign,That baby's almost wild;See how he laughs and crows and stares-Heaven bless the merry child!He's father's self in face and limb,And father's heart is strong in him.HarkI hark! I hear his footsteps now;He's through the garden-gate:Run, little Bess, and ope the door,And do not let him wait.Shout, baby, shout and clap thy hands,For father on the threshold stands.
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