The Baldwin Library
B Unio .iry
NICHOLS AND HALL,
No. 32, BROMFIELD STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year r874, by
JOHN L. SHOREY,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
RAND, AVERY, & Co., STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS.
Autumn Leaves Uncle Charles ...... 7
The Acorns .. Emily Carter ...... 8
Life's Morning and Evening Emily Carter .... 9
March A.D.W. .. ... 10
Mabel and the Snow-Drops. Mrs. R. J. Lee ...... 11
The Johnny-Cake Mrs. E. Hayward 12
A Cold Day . 14
My Clothes-Pins . Marian Douglas 15
Learning to Walk. Dora Burnside 17
Grandfather's Chair . Matthias Barr 18
Sundown Emily Carter 19
Tiz-a-Ring Josephine Pollard . 20
A little Tease . Josephine Pollard . 21
Carol for Spring . A. D. W. 22
May Emily Carter .... 23
Tommy's Advice to the Crow .. Emily Carter 24
Papa and the Doll . Geo. Bennett 25
The Little Volunteers . L. W. T. ... 27
The Snow-Drop Ida Fay 28
On the Way to School . Ida Fay 29
See all the Swallows . . Emily Carter ...... 30
Dear Little Mary . Matthias Barr ...... 31
Peter and the Hare . Emily Carter . 33
The Cat-Bird Marian Douglas 34
The Seasons Emily Carter 36
Pop Corn! Who'll buy? A. D. W. 37
The Baby in the Basket Emily Carter 38
Little Dilly-Dally . Josephine Pollard 39
Baby's Walk. Olive A. Wadsworth. 40
My Linnet (From the German) 42
The Nursery Elf Josephine Pollard 43
Its very Best Marian Douglas 44
Flower Talk Mary N. Prescott 45
The Rude Playmate Marian Douglas 46
Spring Rain Mary N. Prescott 47
The Bear and the Beehive . .... 48
Who is to Blame?. . Emily Carter .... 49
The Reapers. Matthias Barr .. 50
Sleeping in the Sunshine ... Malthias Barr .. 51
Going for Violets . . Emily Carter ..... 52
The Tardy Boy Emily Carter 53
Only a Baby Small Matthias Barr 54
Mary's Sleigh-Ride Emily Carter 55
When Santa Claus comes Elizabeth Sill . . 56
In the Morning (From the German) 57
Cherry Blossom . . S. M. Day .... . 58
Mamma's Boy . . George Cooper . . 59
The Sleepy Boy . . Elizabeth Sill . . 60
Tommy and the Woodchuck R. Chesterfield . . 61
Kind Mamma . . . . 63
The Brothers that did not Quarrel Ida Fay . . . 64
Sunrise . . . Emily Carter . . 65
Summer . . Mary N. Prescott 66
The Fancy Dance . . . 66
The Song of the Ducks . . Emily Carter . . 68
Grandpa's Cherry-Tree . . J. A. Sill . . . 69
Jack's Menagerie . . H. Baldwin . . . 71
The Crow . . Marian Douglas. . . 72
On the Sea-Beach . . Emily Carter . . 74
The First Pocket . . Elizabeth Sill . ... 75
Winter . . . . 77
Little Birdies . . George Cooper . . 78
The Travelling Monkey . Marian Douglas. . . 79
Song of the Brook . . A. D. W . .. . 81
The Tea-Party . . George Cooper . . 82
Bertha to Baby . . Dora Burnside . . 84
Who is it? . . George Cooper . 85
Moon so Round and Yellow . Matthias Barr . . 86
Good-by, Birds and Flowers . . Matthias Barr . . 87
Playing Robinson Crusoe George Cooper 89
The Song of the Kettle . . Marian Douglas. . . 90
Under Papa's Helmet. Alfred Selwyn . 92
What the Cat said to the Monkey ........... 93
The Bird and the Stag . . Emily Carter 94
What does the Cock say? Matthias Barr .... 95
Lazy Tom . . Emily Carter . . 96
Learning to Fly . . Jane Oliver . . 98
The First Lesson . . George Cooper . . 99
A Song of Noses . . . . . 100
Mother's Joy and Mother's Plague .Emily Carter . . 101
Grandpapa's Spectacles . . Elizabeth Sill . . 102
Old Trim George Bennett 103
The Birds and the Pond-Lily Emily Carter . . 105
The Birds . . . Clara Doty Bates . . 106
Chimney Tops . . Marian Douglas. . . 107
The Apple-Tree in Bloom . Emily Carter . . 109
The Lily of the Valley Dora Burnside .. 110
Waiting for the May Marian Douglas . 111
Santa Claus . . . George Cooper . . 113
The first Birth-Day . . Emily Carter . . 115
A Summer Day . . George Cooper . . 116
A Little Girl's Good-by . George Cooper . . 118
Flowers are Springing Matthias Barr 119
The Skipping-Rope . . Emily Carter . .. 120
Clever Jack . (From the German) . ... 121
April Fool . . . Elizabeth Sill . 123
The Tradespeople . . Julius Sturm ....... 124
The Bird's Return . . George Cooper . 126
At the Pump . .. ........ 127
The Swallows ...... Emily Carter . . 128
THE BEAUTIFUL BOOK.
A THING of beauty is a joy forever," says the poet; and
so we cannot too soon begin to teach the child to recognize
and love the beautiful.
We here give him the beautiful in art, and the beautiful
in thought; and, if he has not yet learned to read, the parent
or teacher will here find the means of teaching him with
ease and speed.
The method is plain and natural, like that of teaching a
child to speak. Point to the words of a line in their order,
and see that he gives his attention to their form, size, and
sound. Repeat this patiently, and for a short time every
day; and you will soon be surprised at his progress.
Do not trouble yourself, as yet, about the alphabet, or the
analysis of syllables; and let the little pupil himself choose
the piece that you are to drill him on.
It is true that memory, in fixing the words in his mind,
may often lead him to glance too inattentively at their
6 THE BEAUTIFUL BOOK.
forms. But memory will prove more a help than a bar,
even here; for it will serve the place of a teacher, by
telling him what the words are when he does attend, and
thus enabling him to study them out by himself.
A great advantage of the word-system is, that, to the
child himself, it makes learning to read a pleasure instead
of a toil.
The numerous pictures are, it is believed, of a character
to develop and improve a taste for art.
This volume, with The Easy Book," which is in prose,
will not only serve as a quick and easy means of teaching
a child to read, but will help to inspire in him a genuine
love of letters; and thus it is, in fact, not only a beautiful,
but a practically useful book.
All the contents are from The Nursery," a magazine
for youngest readers, issued monthly by the publisher of
THLr lIeaves are falling, falling, fllin-:
Red, brown, and yellow, I see them fall.
The birds, they are calling, calling, calling:
Swallows old and young, I hear them call.
Come, Mary Come, Jamie! Come, Harry and Kate!
See the leaves and the swallows: come, do not be late.
8 THE ACORNS.
The warm days, they are going, going, going:
Come, mount the hill with me before they go.
The little brooks are flowing, flowing, flowing;
But very soon they all will cease to flow.
For the leaves are falling, falling ; the swallows flying, flying;
And soon the winds of winter will be sighing, sighing, sighing.
The autumn bees are humming, humming, humming:
Soon they will be silent all and still.
Said the children, "We are coming, coming, coming:
Wait there for us, Uncle Charley, on'the hill.
Come summer, come winter, come heat, or come snow,
We're bound to be merry wherever we go."
TALL oaks from little acorns grow."
Yes, darling children, that is so:
Then plant your acorns; do not fear;
And fruit will by and by appear.
The line you learn to-day may be
The very seed of Wisdom's tree.
&" ij- ?' ,, .
LIFE'S MORNING AND EVENING.
"GRANDMOTHER, tell me, were you young once, and little, like me ?
Golden and brown was your hair ? smooth and unwrinkled your skin ?
Could you once frolic and run round in the garden, like me ?
Grandmother, had you a doll ? Did you love flowers and birds ?
Shall I a grandmother be ? totter along with a cane ?
--:---;> :-;-' '-. ..i
Might one not stay ever young on this bright, beautiful earth ? "
MARCH is a funny old blustering fellow:
He whistles his tunes from morning till night;
He scatters the ground with crocuses yellow,
Then frosts them over with white.
Up in the morning, 'mid sunshine playing,
And then, in an hour, drifting the snow;
Then stopping, he thinks of the children's Maying,
And silently ceases to blow.
"With smiling and sighing, and raining and snowing,
He tries to catch up with the mild April showers,
And help them to moisten the valleys for sowing,
And wake up the exquisite flowers.
Moody and fitful, his footsteps are ranging
From morrow to morrow, till April is near;
Then kissing her face, with its tremulous changing,
He leaves there a smile and a tear.
Then mute with the sight of her wonderful graces,
While shadows of night veil his sobbing retreat,
In a tumult of rain the last snow he effaces,
And meltingly dies at her feet.
IN April, when snow drops were ,i,
MABEL| ND THE SNOW-DROPS. -j U
IN April, when snow-drops were
Our dear little Mabel was born;
And as sweet to the eye as a snow-
Has she been ever since, every "- .
morn. ,-' .,
/She minds every word that we tell
She loves to give food to the poor ;
She treats all dumb creatures with
And they all love her dearly, I'm
I hope that all children who hear me
Will shun, like our Mabel, all vice;
Will keep pure and bright as the
That blooms amid snow-drifts and
THIS is the seed,
So yellow and round,
S That little John Horner hid in the ground.
T These are the leaves,
So graceful and tall,
.. That grew from the seed so yellow and
This is the stalk,
SThat came up between
The leaves so pretty and graceful and
-K -' I, These are the tassels,
So flowery, that crowned
The stalk, so smooth, so strong, and so
THE JULNIIN-CAKE. 1
These are the husks,
With satin inlaid,
That grew neathh the tassels that drooped
This is the silk,
In shining threads spun:
A treasure it hides from the frost and the
sun. 9 ,
This is the treasure, -
Corn yellow as gold, -
That satin and silk so softly unfold.
This is the cake,
For Johnny to eat, .
Made from the corn so yellow and sweet. -
ub ^^ ^ ^Jlt.l**^!^
A COLD DAY.
JACK FROST is a roguish little fellow:
When the wintry winds begin to bellow,
He flies like a bird through the air,
And steals through the cracks everywhere.
He nips little children on the nose;
He pinches little children on the toes;
He pulls little children by the ears,
And draws from their eyes the big round tears.
He makes little girls cry, "Oh, oh, oh! "
He makes little boys say, "Boo hoo hoo !"
But when we kindle up a good warm fire,
Then Jack Frost is compelled to retire;
So up the chimney skips the roguish little boy,
And all the little children jump for joy!
LEARNING TO WALK.
WHO comes here ? Don't be afraid
Little boy John, Of a stumble or fall;
Brave as a lion : For Johnny must walk,
See him come on I Although he is small.
What does he want ? First one little foot,
A kiss, I am thinking: Now forward the other:
Come, sir, and take it; That's right! here you are,
Come without winking I My own little brother 1
I LOVE, when the evenings are balmy and still,
And summer is smiling on valley and hill,
STo see in the garden the little ones there,
SAll happy and smiling round grandfather's chair.
Such stories he tells them,-such tales of delight,-
Such wonders to dream of by day and by night,
It's little they're thinking of sorrow and care,
Their bright faces beaming round grandfather's
And words, too, of wisdom, fall oft from his
Dear lessons to cherish and treasure while young;
S Bright things to remember when white is their
And some of them sit in a grandfather's chair.
Ah! little ones, love him, be kind while you may,
For swiftly the moments are speeding away;
Not long the kind looks and the love you may
That beam on you now from a grandfather's chair.
S. .. ." -- '-: ---- : dl .. ,. -' : Lq ', I
----_ - --- -- - ---
Now\ the suLn i c-tting; -
S:e the \ t<- rn kI :
I ow those rays of glur, -
Flush the clouds on; h ih - -
Tree and grass and flowi-r
L:,,., thre ciimson light.
Suin, Ih.- smil shedl; g laldns :
N-rw, rr,-,,,cl.night, go:,od-night! --
Birdc and lambs. and childr-n
S,-c' n w -ill ,co to S-leep:
Father clear in heaien,
S all, a cndl kt cu
- - - ----_
" TIZ-A-RING, tiz-a-ring
What a funny song to sing!
You're a cunning little thing,
Busy bee, busy bee!
Though you fly so far and long,
And your wings are good and strong,
Yet you sing no other song,
Busy bee, busy bee!
"I am sure, if I were you,
I would learn a tune or two
From the birds that sip the dew
By your side, busy bee !
So that with your gauzy wing
You might fly, and sweetly sing
Something else but tiz-a-ring,
All the day, busy bee!"
"I'm too busy, don't you see,
To be learning melody,"
Quoth the cunning little bee,
And went hurrying along.
"Tiz-a-ring may sound but queer
To my little critic's ear;
But you'll like my honey, dear,
If you do not like my song."
I : . . .
A LITTLE TEASE.
I KNOW a little fellow When kitty's lying quiet,
Who is such a wilful tease, And curled up warm and snug,
That, when he's not in mischief, This little fellow always feels
He is never at his ease: Like giving her a hug;
He dearly loves to frolic, And kitty from his fond embrace
And to play untimely jokes Would surely never flinch,
Upon his little sister, Did she not know the little tease
And upon the older folks. Would give her many a pinch.
He rings the bell for Sarah, But this provoking fellow
And then slyly runs away; Has a very curious way
And tries to make a fool of her Of feeling rather hurt at tricks
A dozen times a day: That other people play, -
He hides away in corners, Just like some older jokers,
To spring suddenly in sight; Who laugh at fun they make,
And laughs, oh! very heartily, Bat never can enjoy the fun
To see her jump with fright. Of jokes they have to take.
CAROL FOR SPRING.
WINTER is done!
Daisies are lifting their heads to the sun;
Mayflowers, smiling the soft winds to greet,
Burst into loveliness sudden and sweet;
Primroses, pale as with looking on snow,
Crocuses, violets, see how they grow !
Robins and bluebirds make nests in the sun:
Winter is done!
Sister of Summer, your reign is begun !
Winter is done !
Out of its death all this glory is won !
Down at the roots where the fallen leaves cling,
Wrecks of the Autumn make blossoms for Spring;
Dust of the rose-leaves gives bloom to the rose;
Life out of death thus eternally grows ;
Earth's blooming children come back one by one:
Winter is done !
Sister of Summer, your reign is begun !
S..... r .:4=
*. ,' I' _4
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SUNNY day, joyful day,
Do not go so fast away;
S .. For this is the month of May,
And we love to have you stay.
On the banks, in sunny nooks,
In the meadows, by the brooks,
Better even than story-books,
Wild flowers charm us with their looks.
See! you need not wander far:
Birds are singing, Here they are!"
Sunny day, joyful day,
Do not go so fast away!
Bg43. ar' <\ '*'.
TOMMY'S ADVICE TO THE CROW.
CROW, crow, you look very grave:
But people do whisper that you are a knave ;
That you lurk in the fields to pilfer our corn;
And a robber have been from the time you were born.
Crow, crow, you wear a black coat;
And you never indulge in a blithe, jolly note:
But for all your gravity, sir, I think
You are worse than the madcap bobolink.
He does not dress nor talk like a saint;
He drawls not, nor preaches; he uses no paint:
But he lets our corn and our rye alone;
And he carries away no food but his own.
A little honesty, sir, would be
The better for you and the better for me:
Stop being a robber, stop breaking the law,
Or doff your black habit, and never say, Caw."
PAPA AND THE DOLL.
OH the pretty lady Doldy !
With her fresh, round, rosy face,
With her rich, red Garibaldi,
Trimmed around with tatted lace:
See her watch too; real Geneva !
Well, now, that's the time o' day.
I'm ashamed of my old lever:
It was never half so gay.
How her golden hair is shining I
Who has curls so fair and bright ?
Just like sunny tendrils twining
Round her eyes, blue beads of light:
What an arm! how nicely rounded I
What a soft and dimpled hand !
How the taper wrist is rounded
With the bracelet's jewelled band I
26 PAPA AND THE DOLL
Hold her up, my little Mary;
Let me see the titmouse feet,
Small enough for any fairy,
With morocco shoes so neat:
Pray don't let her walk a distance,
Or you'll never keep them bright.
What, not walk without assistance !
Oh, dear me! perhaps you're right.
Ah I'm sure she's smiling at me
With her dainty coral lips:
Does she want to come and pat me
With those tiny finger-tips?
No, my dear, I will not take her.
I am not a tender nurse;
I might rumple, squeeze, or shake her;
Let her fall; that would be worse.
Well, your nursery's quite a model,
Fitted up so smart and gay:
Round it little Ned can toddle,
You and Sister Rosa play.
Doldy's cradle, too, for certain:
Do just let me have a peep !
Oh! how sweet behind that curtain
Blue-eyed beauty soon will sleep !
I'll not stay while you undress her,
And put on her bed-gown white:
I will stoop and gently kiss her;
Whisper in her ear, "Good-night."
You must wake her in the morning,
All her things in order placed;
In her robing and adorning
Show the very nicest taste.
4 '-',, ,- ) ,
' 1 "^- " '' "-- '
THE LITTLE VOLUNTEERS.
THRErE cheers! three cheers
For the little volunteers!
Oh, what a merry sight it is to see them pass,
Knee-deep in buttercups and ankle-deep in grass !
Tramp, tramp, tramp, as onward they go
Over the old fence to rush upon the foe.
One with a rake, and another with a cane, -
Now look out for the wounded and the slain!
Three cheers! three cheers
For the valiant volunteers!
:-, 4. .. ,f
S... ,,. .. .
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28 THE SNOW-DROP.
The curly-headed captain is not very large:
See him scale the fence, and lead the fearful charge!
The corporal who follows sees the captain fall,
Just as he jumps down into the clover tall;
Then, what with Nero's barking and the cackling
of the geese,
I have to tell the army they must keep the peace.
But three cheers! three cheers
For the little volunteers !
DARLING little snow-drop, Do you come so early,
Coming up so boldly, In these wintry hours,
While the winds of winter Just to tell us kindly,
Yet are blowing coldly! Spring is near with flowers?
When the ponds were freezing, Darling little snow-drop,
Blooming I have found you, Hope and joy you lend us:
Little milk-white flower, God still loves his children, -
With the snow all round you! Loves, and will befriend us 1
ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL.
SUSAN, Henry, John, and Joe,
See them there all in a row:
On their way to school they go.
They have learned their lessons well;
They can read, and they can spell;
They of lakes and towns can tell.
They start early on their way,
And stop not to climb and play,
Though it is a pleasant day.
But, when school at last is done,
They'll be ready all for fun:
They will frolic, climb, and run.
30 SEE ALL THE SWALLOWS.
SSEE ALL THE SWALLOWS.
c- l:lL"- back to uts, clear swallo\.vs
"For Spring youlr coming follows:
"To your old i-ne-t benc.ath our caves,
.- \'e love to see you dearli,
"Y-.ou feed your .oung so queerly,
And bring \wect lopes of summer in
. your track.
DEAR LITTLE NIARY.
DEAR little MaRi,
Susan and Loo,
Jenny andm Lizzie.,
And Margarat too;
Now\ the sun's pcelpinc,
S.i-tlv and sl,,
In at the wiinldom.
Prkts, where 1. Iie!
LIp:, up, my darlings,
Up and awav!
Out t. thi niLacAs
Sw, t with n-ew hay;
32 DEAR LITTLE MARY.
Out where the berries,
Dewy and red,
Hang in great clusters,
Out where the golden-rod
Bends on its stalk,
And the wild roses
Gladden our walk;
Where amid bushes
Hidden but heard,
Joyous and grateful
Sings many a bird.
Out where the waters,
Merry and sweet,
Ripple and tinkle
"Close by your feet;
Where all things happy,
Fragrant, and fair,
In the bright morning
Welcome you there!
PETER AND THE HARE.
THOUGHTLESS little Peter, with his little gun,
Went out by the woodside for a little fun :
Saw a happy little hare who on clover fed;
With his little gun took aim, and shot him in the head.
Thoughtful little Peter, sad for what he'd done,
Sat down on a stump, and there, by it, laid his gun;
Wished that he could bring to life that little hare so still:
"Never more," said he, will I a harmless creature kill."
"Sweet, sweet! tyr-ril, tyr-ril, tyr-ree !"
The cat-bird on the cherry-tree, -
How gayly and how loud he sings,
As on the blooming bough he swings -
" Tyr-ril, tyr-ree! His mate he calls,
His carol with the blossoms falls.
Oh! when he's pleased, search far and wide,
No sweeter singer's known;
But then, alas the cat-bird has
A temper of his own.
And if, by chance, his will is crossed,
At once his spite he shows, -
" Maow, maow! pay, pay !" his song is changed;
And all the music goes.
If he can have, to build his nest,
The place that pleases him the best;
If winds are soft, and skies are bright,
And all the world with him goes right, -
" Tyr-ril, tyr-ree !" you never heard
A sweeter-voiced, more charming bird.
But if his mate to him should say,
" I mean, for once, to have my way;"
Or if a sparrow, or a thrush,
The withered grass should take,
That he had thought to use himself,
When he his nest should make;
THE CAT-BIRD. 35
Or if, too near his chosen tree,
His head a robin shows, -
Maow, maow pay, pay!" his song is changed;
And all the music goes.
O cat-bird 'mid the falling flowers
Upon the cherry-tree,
How many people I have seen,
That were, how much like thee !
From cheerful homes and loving hearts,
Too well, alas I know,
There's nothing like a temper-fit
To make the music go.
How I love the blooming Spring,
When the birds so gayly sing!
More the Summer me delights,
With its lovely days and nights.
Autumn is the best of all,
With its fruits for great and small.
Nay! old Winter is the time!
Jolly then the sleigh-bells' chime!
Every season will be bright,
Children, if you'll live aright.
POP-CORN! WHO'LL BUY ?
WHO will buy my pop-corn ?-
Bags of snowy pop-corn,
Freshly done to-day.
When they're fairly popping,
You should see them hp|in,.-
Like a school at play.
Pop-corn Who'll buy ?
Who will buy my pop-corn ? -
Pretty balls of pop-corn,
Sweet, and creamy white;
Just like snowballs blowing,
In the garden growing,
Good for taste or sight.
Pop-corn Who'll buy ?
THE BABY IN THE BASKET.
" Now, where are you going, this beautiful day?"
" Good sir, I am going to help rake the hay."
"But you must be weary and worn, I'm afraid.
With that heavy load on your back, little maid."
" Oh, no, sir! the load is not heavy to me:
The load is my own baby-sister, you see."
"I see ; and this lesson I get from the sight:
Love makes labor easy and any load light."
I ." ,, ,"- _
I DON'T believe you ever 'Tis just the same at evening;
Knew any one as silly And it's really quite distressing
As the girl I'm going to tell about, To see the time that Dilly wastes
A little girl named Dilly. In dressing and undressing.
Oh! she is very slow: Is always in a huff
She drags her feet If you hurry her,
Along the street, Or worry her,
And dilly-dallies so! And says, There's time enough."
She's always late for breakfast, Since she's neither sick nor helpless,
Without a bit of reason; It is quite a serious matter,
For Bridget rings and rings the bell, That she should be so lazy, that
And wakes her up in season. We still keep scolding at her.
How can you be so slow? It's very wrong, you know,
Why don't you try To do no work
To be more spry, That you can shirk,
And not dilly-dally so? And dilly-dally so.
.. 4L. ,
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. la'- .:i I,' r *c lisjc. ,2 '_. :--r'.* :.. r ;
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o he walked and he walked; an.d, what do you think
He came to the trough where the horse was at drink:
He cried, Go along Get up, old Spot
And the horse ran away with a trot, trot, trot.
A w.1 LIW4 A hthe horse: ra away wit' a trot, trot,,trot.
Sl ,-So he walked and he walked; and he came at last
To the yard where the sheep were folded fast:
i He cried through the crack of the fence, Hurrah"
And all the old sheep said, Baa, baa, baa !"
BABY'S WALK. -
So he walked and he walked till he came to the pond,
Of which all the ducks and the ducklings are fond: -
He saw them swim forward, and saw them swim back ; f
And all the ducks said was, Quack, quack, quack "
So he walked and he walked; and it came to pass,
That he reached the field where the cows eat grass; .
He said with a bow, Pray, how do you do ? "
And the cows all answered, Moo, moo, moo "
So he walked and he walked to the harvest-ground; I '
And there a dozen of turkeys he found: I
They were picking the grasshoppers out of the stubble;
And all the turkeys said, Gobble, gobble, gobble! '
So he walked and he walked to the snug little house
Where Towser was sleeping as still as a mouse :-
Then the baby cried out, Halloo, old Tow "
And the dog waked up with a Bow, wow, wow!" .. .
So he walked and he walked, till he came once more
To the sunshiny porch and the open door;
And mamma looked out with a smile, and said,
It's time for my baby to go to bed."
So he drank his milk, and he ate his bread;
A r.I I,.: ,> ll~ e.-I m ,: h- in h- .:- t I.1,; I-lih- I ..:.J ; ( ., ,._ ".
A ndirl ; '. .',r,:] 4 1 his ;..l.-. .u ,.Il h,:- h:.:,,, ;r |,;: 1i1 .J i n. *
H *.:,ilkcJ and he walked t, ic 5l. ., Linrnd. -S .' ..
".) b i/
'J J WOFUL bereavement! 0 hap-
0 grief for to-day and to-morrow!
-\ W-' My linnet, my bright, merry linnet,
-- is dead
Come, birdlings, come join in my
Then came all the dear little birds to the call,-
The thrush and the finch and the sparrow,
The blackbird, the robin, the woodpecker, all,
The swallow, too, swift as an arrow.
Four took up the bier, and the rest fluttered on
To the grove where the woodbine was twining;
For all of them loved the dear bird that was gone;
And even the flowers seemed repining.
Above the green turf where their burden was laid,
They chirped their regret as they hovered:
The robin a heap of the sweetest leaves made,
And with it the lifeless form covered.
-- _. --- = :_ --- : _- : =_- < 2
THE NURSERY ELF.
DEAR little feet, how you wander and wander,
Little twin truants, so fleet!
Dear little head, how you ponder and ponder
Over the things that you meet!
Dear little tongue, how you chatter and chatter
Over your innocent joys!
Oh! but the house is alive with your clatter,--
Shaking, indeed, with your noise.
Can't you be quiet a moment, sweet rover?
Is there no end to your fun ?
Soon the "old sand-man" will sprinkle you over,
Then the day's frolic is done.
Come.to my arms, for the daylight is dying,
Closer the dark shadows creep;
Come like a bird that is weary of flying;
Come, let me sing you to sleep.
ITS VERY BEST.
THE snow-flakes fall like thistle-down;
The wind blows cold without:
There's not one thing that seems like spring
But this potato-sprout!
And this is but a sorry sight,
It looks so weak and thin and white.
"Oh, yes!" says the potato-sprout,
"I've never had the light;
Yet, poorly as I look, I know
I've tried my very best to grow.
"When dropped the red and yellow leaves,
The farm-boy threw me in
The very darkest corner of
The darkest cellar-bin.
I did not see one sunny ray;
I could not tell the night from day:
But, when long weeks had worn away,
I felt it must be spring, and so
I tried my very best to grow.
" Could I be planted in the ground,
And feel the sun and showers,
I should rise tall and straight and green,
And have a crown of flowers.
Oh! judge me not by what you see:
I am not what I want to be!
The sun has never shone for me;
But in the dark, at least, I know,
I've tried my very best to grow."
WHAT does the crocus say ?
" Summer sunshine's on the way."
What does the wind-flower sing ?
"We are the footprints of spring."
What says the columbine?
"April showers make me fine."
What does the violet speak ?
"Those who want me, they must seek."
Breathes the lilac's rich perfume,
"Children love my' purple bloom."
What has the king-cup told ?
"All the fields I fringe with gold."
"Sweetness," whispers mignonette,
"Follows where my feet are set."
What does the pansy sigh ?
"Balm for wounded hearts am I."
Nods the sunflower in her bed,
"See the glory round my head!"
Sweet-brier blushes, "Who would hold
What he prizes, must be bold."
THE RUDE PLAYMATE.
" OAK-LEAF and maple-leaf!" Hear the wind call:
"Beech-leaf and willow-leaf, flutter and fall!
Red leaves and yellow leaves, orange and brown,
Dance on the shaken boughs, dance, and come down!
I'll be your playfellow; careless and gay,
We will keep sporting through all of the day:
Up in the air, or about on the ground,
Merrily, merrily whirling around,
Hither and thither, wherever I blow,
Over the hills and the fields you shall go.
"Red leaves and yellow leaves, flutter and fall!
Come to me, come to me !" Hear the wind call.
Fair are his promises. Off from the bough,
Down comes a pretty red maple-leaf now.
Poor little thing! By to-night it will be
Wishing again it were back on the tree.
Rude is the wild wind, and rough is his play;
Hardest of labor is sporting all day.
WHILE it patters, while it pours,
Little folks are kept indoors;
Little birds sing through the rain,
"Dreaming flowers, awake again!
From the damp mould lift your bloom;
Make the earth sweet with perfume."
And the flowers, one and all,
Answer to this cheery call:
Crocuses begin to thrill;
Violets thicken on the hill;
And the fields and meadows over,
Shines the white and crimson clover,
48 THE BEAR AND THE BEE-HIVE.
When it patters, when it pours,
Little folks are kept indoors,
Looking through the window-pane,
Watching the unceasing rain;
While its silver voice repeats,
"Blossoms crown the earth with sweet- "
THE BEAR AND THE BEE-HIVE.
"HERE's a feast! said the sly old bear;
"Pots of honey, I do declare!
Scold as you will, you noisy bees:
I'm big enough to do as I please."
Then the little bees came out in a swarm,
And Bruin began to be very warm;
And, though the old fellow was pretty tough,
He soon felt ready to cry, "Enough!"
-- ,. .
Scl as yo il o niybe
I. _ 4 ,.
"i I ,
WHO IS TO BLAME?
'.. ,- -
"Now, what can this mean? "Come! whom shall I punish?
Who is having a ride Now, who is to blame ?"
At this time of night, Cried Johnny, Papa,
With his eyes open wide? Papa, is his name.
I left Johnny snug He found me awake,
In his own little bed: And watching a star :
Now see him high up So do not scold me,
By somebody's head! But scold him, mamma!"
': -' "I' '!
-, '- -- ",, .
T 1 [-r, ar I D.
.1ni',ng the :orn
Th .L realpers are bus.',' nt. blit:lhe
. .'\i..l a s.ong tlhe' s.in.,
".*. A s the'-v m :rnily s'..iir
',,lin.- thm the, glittering scytl-
Like a tiny spack.
Far up in the blue, bluo sky;
And beneath thi, L.t
The cltcwrops sweet
Like millions of diamonds lic.
SLEEPING IN THE SUNSHINE. -
SLEEPING in the sunshine. '" i
Fie, fie, fie! "-
While the birds are soaring .'
High, high, high! I
While the buds are opening 1 'weet. i
And the blossoms at yo-jr eit cc'"
Look a smiling face to grc-t. -'
Fie, fie, fie!
Sleeping in the sunshine.
Fie, fie, fie!
While the bee goes humming
By, by, by!
Is there no small task u.,r \oju,- '
Nought for little hands r., Jdo:
Shame to sleep the morliing thiiio u'
Fie, fie, fie !
SI '- I1
GOING. FOR VIOLETS.
THREE little maidens,
Pretty and good,
Seeking for violets,
Went through the wood.
They saw a bluebird;
They saw a sparrow;
They met a small boy
With bow and arrow.
Don't shoot the birdies !"
Cried they all three:
Come and hunt violets
By the pine-tree."
I'll break my arrow,"
Said the small boy;
And in the violets
I'll find my joy."
1 ........ S
-1 1, '
E! the hour for school is near: Mother, mother, do not freti
-,,- -.- . -
Robert, Robert, do you hear ? I'm not through my breakfast yet.
54 ONLY A BABY SMALL.
From your bed you should have sprung Mother, mother, do not scold:
When the early bell was rung. I shall soon be eight years old.
All my window-panes were white More's the shame for you, my son,
With the frost we had last night. Leaving duties thus undone !
If you would not be a dunce, Something whispers in my ear,
Brave the cold, and rise at once. You are right, my mother dear.
When Jack Frost is in the case, Then get down sir, from your stool,
Bed is such a pleasant place And run quickly off to school.
He who loves his bed too well Off I go You shall not see
Never, never, will excel. After this a drone in me !
Two sunny eyes; nvexed by thought;-i
i:.," \ ;. '.
ONLY A BABY SMALL.
ONLY a baby small, Only a tongue that wags
Dropt from the skies ; Loudly and oft;
Only a laughing face, Only a little brain,
Two sunny eyes ; Unvexed by thought;
Only two cherry lips, Only a little heart,
One chubby nose; Troubled with nought;
Only two little hands, Only a tender flower,
Ten little toes ; Sent us to rear;
Only a golden head, Only a life to love
Curly and soft ; While we are here.
OVER the meadow, and over the snow,
Slippetty, slippetty, slip,
See Mary travelling while the winds blow,
Nippetty, nippetty, nip !
What careth she for the ice and the cold ?
Poppetty, poppetty, pop!
Pushed on so fleetly by Tommy the bold,
Hoppetty, hoppetty, hop!
Carlo is barking at sight of the fun,
Puppetty, puppetty, pup !
Home to the tea-table see Billy run,
Suppetty, suppetty, sup!
,- V WH'NI SAkiTA CLA.U.3COM'ES
A GOOD time is coming: I wish it were here 1-
The very best time in the whole of the year:
I'm counting each day, on my fingers and thumbs,
The weeks that must pass before Santa Claus comes.
Good-by for a while, then, to lessons and school ;
We can laugh, talk, and sing, without "breaking the rule ;"
No troublesome spelling, nor writing, nor sums:
There's nothing but play-time when Santa Claus comes.
I suppose I shall have a new dolly, of course, -
My last one was killed by a fall from her horse;
And for Harry and Jack there'll be trumpets and drums,
To deafen us all with, when Santa Claus comes.
I'll hang up my stocking to hold what he brings;
I hope he will fill it with lots of nice things:
He must know how dearly I love sugar-plums;
I'd like a big box full when Santa Claus comes.
Then when the first snow-flakes begin to come down,
And the wind whistles sharp, and the branches are brown,
I'll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs;
For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes.
,: ,.. .1,. ''.. i
"- : '.' ..
IN THE MORNING.
THE sun is up; and its cheerful rays
Shine, all things round adorning.
A sluggard is he in bed who stays:
Like the sun, let us rise in the morning.
The silv'ry brooklet goes purling past,
All bright in the early dawning;
It seems to run onward twice as fast:
Like the brook, let us run in the morning.
The thrifty wild bees are flying out,
All sloth and slumber scorning;
O'er field and garden they're humming about:
Like the bee, let us work in the morning.
LITTLE Cherry Blossom Leaving her the white one,
Lived up in a tree, All so fine and gay!
And a very happy
Little thing was she. By and by the sunshine
Faded from her view:
Clad all through the winter How poor Blossom shivered
In a dress of brown, As it colder grew !
Warm she was, though living
In a northern town. Oh for that warm wrapper
Lying on the ground !
But one sunny morning, Ah Jack Frost will nip her:
Thinking it was May, He is prowling round.
"I'll not wear," said Blossom,
"This old dress to-day." Yes, he folds poor Blossom
In his arms of ice,
Mr. Breeze, this hearing, And her white robe crumples,-
Very kindly said, Robe so fine and nice!
".Do be careful, Blossom:
Winter has not fled." Ah! poor Cherry Blossom!
She, in foolish pride,
Blossom would not listen; Changed her wonted clothing,
For the sky was bright, Took a cold, and died.
And she wished to glisten
In her robe of white. All ye little blossoms,
Hear me, and take care:
So she let the brown one Go not clad too thinly,
Drop and blow away, And of pride beware.
" BABY, climbing on my knee,
Come and talk a while to me.
We have trotted up and down,
Playing horse, all over town.
Whose sweet darling are you, dear?
Whisper close to mamma's ear:
Tell me quickly, for you can."
"I'm mamma's boy, but papa's man !
"Why, you've many miles to go
Ere you'll be a man, you know.
You are mamma's own delight;
You are mamma's diamond bright;
Rose and lily, pearl and star,
Love and dove, all these you are."
" No the little tongue began:
"I'm mamma's boy, but papa's man !"
`r '++ 11"1
THE SLEEPY BOY.
I KNOW a little boy; The fire-flies have lighted
And I've often heard it said, Their lamps bright and yellow;
That he never was so tired And I'm sure it's dreaming-time
That he wished to go to bed. For this sleepy little fellow.
Though he scarcely can hold up
His drowsy little head, The houseless little child
Yet this very foolish boy Who has no place to sleep;
Cannot bear to go to bed. Who on the ground must lie,
Or in some doorway creep ;
When the big golden sun O'er whom no clean white sheet,
Has lain down to sleep ; No blanket soft, is spread, -
When the lambs every one How happy he would be
Are lying by the sheep; If he could go to bed "!
When underneath its wing
Every chick tucks its head, But with a pretty nest
Still this odd little boy All warm and soft and white,
Does not like to go to bed. That's waiting for this boy,
When it's time to say Good-night
Primroses and daisies With mamma's loving kiss,
Have shut their bright eyes; And her hand upon his head, -
Grasshoppers and crickets How strange a sleepy boy
Are singing lullabies; Should not like to go to bed !
--- / "
TOMMY AND THE WOODCHUCK.
A PRETTY brown woodchuck once made a snug hole
In a garden belonging to good Farmer Cole,
Where every thing grew that was pleasant to eat,
From big-headed cabbage, to jolly red beet.
There bloomed the gay flowers you all love so well,-
The many-hued aster, the bonny blue bell,
Pinks, daisies, and tulips; while sun-flowers tall,
Like yellow-haired sentinels, guarded the wall.
At the door of his house, on a carpet of green,
The woodchuck oft sat, and surveyed the fair scene:
" This is truly a very fine garden !" quoth he,
"And doubtless 'twas planted on purpose for me."
So he nibbled, and ate, and he rolled in the clover,
As blithe as a lark, and as plump as a plover;
Or he slept in his hole, far from tumult and noise,
Not worried by dogs, nor molested by boys.
Farmer Cole (worthy man!) saw him day after day;
But he never attempted to harm nor to slay:
For said he, "Since we've plenty, and God gave it all,
We may well spare enough for a creature so small."
62 TOMMY AND THE WOODCHUCK.
- -- . .' ,'-. .. -.
*.-. -.... --
Our hero at last took a fancy to roam
Far away from the quiet seclusion of home;
And while on his travels, oh, grievous to tell!-
A very unpleasant adventure befell.
Having climbed o'er the wall, through a field he must pass,
Where buttercups sprinkled the tall waving grass;
While, hidden and lost in a cool, shady nook,
Danced o'er the white pebbles a rollicking brook.
'Twas a pleasant enclosure, and under the trees
The farmer's cow Brindle was grazing at ease;
Her tail as she ate, like a long-handled mop,
Going flipperty-flopperty, flipperty-flop.
Now, little Tom Bowers, a mischievous elf,
Who chanced to be fishing there all by himself,
As bad luck would have it, the woodchuck espied,
And, seizing the rifle which lay at his side,
Shouted, Now for some fun; for, as sure's I'm a sinner,
I'll have that fine fellow served up for my dinner!"
But, when you're too certain, take heed lest you fail:
Poor Tom missed his aim, and shot off the cow's tail
KIND MAMMA. 63
The woodchuck sped home, nor behind him once glanced !
With anger and pain Brindle capered and danced;
Then, plunging at Tommy, her horns fiercely shook,
And tossed him, head foremost, right into the brook!
Tom scrambled out quickly, both sadder and wiser;
Old Brindle's tail grew in a way to surprise her;
And the woodchuck, content with his snug little hole,
Never more left the garden of good Farmer Cole.
.-"* \ -',
She has seven children, and knows what to do;
She gives them some honey on nice home-made bread;
She reads them a story, then puts them to bed.
THE BROTHERS THAT DID NOT
Two little brothers, loving fair weather,
Played on the meadnw. played there together;
"'. i '"'t r- t quite Ilon-ly \ere they that day
-' I._. -- ( 'n the bright incad)w, while at their play.
'Si little cwall.aws came and flew round,
. I', !' hO,,r hih trce-t.,ls. .,\i:r the ground;
BI [uttOcifl C, als ...... not disdain
".: N-ar them to flutter, glad to remain.
i' TIlrIe rn the herbli.ce tender and green
".l\.' t :L- I these tw., br.:rlhers, playful be seen:
., N N.vr tlhey l\ iarrelle.: ; no angry words,
SI I-Ttily titered, shocked the dear birds.
.i All tllr:ou,-h the da:\time there the two played,
r' S,_mct'tlnes in sui-hine, sometimes in shade.
.' Ai.J dil not quarrel? Please stop your
I tell y,:,u truly. \hy, they were lambs/"
"i, t ti .""
COME and see the sunrise,
Children, come and see;
Wake from slumber early,
Wake, and come with me.
Where the high rock towers,
We will take our stand,
And behold the sunshine
Kindling all the land.
You shall hear the birdies
Sing their morning lay;
You shall feel the freshness
Of the new-born day ;
You shall see the flowers
Opening to the beams,
Flooding all the tree-tops,
Flashing on the streams.
'-. .:., . . . .,' -' -
SUMMER is in the air, odors are everywhere;
Idle birds are singing loud and clear;
Brooks are bubbling over; heads of crimson clover
On the edges of the field appear.
All the meadow blazes with buttercups and daisies,
And the very hedges are tangles of perfume;
Butterflies go brushing, all their plumage crushing,
In among this wilderness of bloom.
The thorn-flower bursts its sheath, the bramble hangs wreath,
And blue-eyed grasses beckon to the sun;
While gypsy pimpernel waits, eager to foretell
When rainy clouds are gathering one by one.
The very world is blushing, is carolling and gushing
Its heart out in a melody of song; [ing,
While simple weeds seem saying, in grateful transport pray-
Unto Him our praises all belong !"
SHALL I play you a waltz, or a jig ?
A hornpipe, a march, a cotillon ?
Take your choice; for I don't care a fig:
I'll scrape you out tunes by the million.
THE FANCY-DANCE. 67
Choose partners All right! To your places!
Come, Ponto, and make your best bow:
Take your steps; show the ladies what grace is.
A bow, sir, is not a bow-wow.
- i" '" I -
f you round and round, hand in hand
Right and left! Promenade down the middle !
"Keep it up now! Oh! isn't it grand
To know how to play on the fiddle!
To know how to play on the fiddle!
THE SONG OF THE DUCKS.
SPRING is coming, spring is here !
All ye ducks and geese, draw near!
Come and join us in our folly;
All ye waddlers, come, be jolly!
Quack, quack! quack, quack, quack!
Good soft mud and running water
Now we shall not lack, not lack!
See, the snows are melting, going,
And the little streams are flowing;
Buds are swelling, birds are singing,
Odors sweet the wind is bringing;
Little girls and boys are straying,
Or in sunny places playing,
Seeking buttercups and clover,
While their hearts with joy run over.
But what goose can't see it plainly ? -
Spring for us is given mainly.
Quack, quack quack, quack, quack!
Good soft mud and running water
Now we shall not lack, not lack i
ik -- ,
IN grandpa's cherry-tree down by the barn
What do you think I see ?
Three little bright-eyed birdies,
Having a regular spree.
A scarecrow, dressed in an old black coat,
Hangs from the topmost limb;
But birds like these are not the birds
To be afraid of him.
Arthur sits on a rocking bough,
Eating all he can cram;
Dropping a cherry now and then
In the hat of his brother Sam.
70 GRANDPA 'S CHERRY-TREE.
Robin's mouth and pockets are full;
So is his big straw hat;
And his apron makes him a "red breast:"
I'm very sure of that.
Bess, the mare, at the old barn-door
Stands quietly eating hay:
"What are those wild young colts about?"
I think I hear her say.
Now, whether she told mamma her thoughts,
Or grandpa suddenly feared
The boys were in mischief, I do not know;
But they've all disappeared.
Ah! here they come with a joyful shout,
Straight up to the nursery-door;
And with cherry skins and stems and juice
They are covered o'er and o'er.
Mother says, as she shakes her head,
Boys will be boys," I see;
But I fear some stomachs will ache to-night,
To pay for this little spree.
i ..- :- ,. . -
If'^^ - ^ ^.-.
,., ... ,.
"THIS is our grand menagerie, "See her long claws, and only hear
Beneath the crooked cherry-tree. Her awful growl when I go near !
The exhibition now begins : We found her lying on a rug,
Admittance, only thirteen pins ; And just escaped her fearful hug.
And if the pins you cannot borrow, It took some time to get her caged:
Why, then, we'll trust you till to-morrow. She's terrible when she's enraged.
Don't be afraid to walk inside : (You think, perhaps, it's Mabel's cat,
The animals are safely tied. But don't you be too sure of that!)
"This is the elephant on the right: Here is the ostrich in her pen
Don't meddle with him, or he'll bite. (It's Ernest's little bantam-hen) :
(He's Rover, Neddie's dog, you know. She came from Africa, of course,
I wish he wouldn't fidget so I And runs as fast as any horse;
IIe doesn't think it fun to play And up above there is a bird
Wild beast, and be chained up all day.) Of whom you all have often heard, -
We'll feed him, pretty soon, with meat; The eagle (' That is not,' says Mary,
Though grass is what he ought to eat. 'A pretty name for my canary')."
"In that box are the kangaroos : Just at this point, I grieve to say,
Go near and pat them if you choose; The elephant broke quite away,
(They're very much like Susie's rabbits, O'erthrew the grizzly bear in rage,
With just a change of name and habits.) Upset the eagle in his cage,
You'll find them lively as a top : Flew at the kangaroos, and then
See, when I poke them, how they hop. Attacked the ostrich in her pen.
They are not fierce; but, oh take care : Thus ended Jack's menagerie
"We now approach the grizzly bear. Beneath the crooked cherry-tree !
WHEN, by the brook, their silver buds
The early willows show,
Caw, caw the first warm day in spring,
Comes flying back the crow.
"Caw, caw His mate is close behind,
As big as he and black;
And all the farmers say, Oh, dear !
We're sorry they've come back."
Warm shines the sun; to plant their fields
The farmers soon begin:
Down fly the black crow and his mate,
With all their kith and kin.
The scarecrows stand on every side,
And frightful things are they:
The farmers' children call and shout,
To drive the birds away.
"Caw, caw, caw, caw !" what care the crows?
The sprouting corn is sweet.
"Caw, caw they say; "we'll have a feast:
Here's something good to eat."
The summer days are long and bright;
The rain-drops softly fall:
The corn the crows have left behind
Grows green and straight and tall.
But when the first ripe ears begin
Among the husks to show,
"Caw, caw !" the whole flock after him,
Comes flying back the crow.
"Caw, caw!" Hark, hark the farmers say;
"The crows begin to call:
Unless our corn we harvest now
They'll surely eat it all."
They cut the corn-stalks down in haste;
They store the ears away:
"Caw, caw! the crow calls to his mate;
"We will no longer stay."
They slowly spread their great black wings;
They sail off, flying low;
And all the farmers say, "Good luck I
"We're glad to see them go."
An easy life the crow may lead;
But who would like to be
A visitor that one and all
Are sorry when they see ?
7 -. .r
ON THE SEA-BEACH.
SEE the wild waves, how they toss up the spray!
Why should not we be as merry as they?
Come, my own sister, and walk on the sand,
Beside the blue ocean: oh! is it not grand?
Hark to the roar of the surf on the rocks!
The foam rushes onward like snowy-white flocks.
Then back the waves hurry away from the shore;
Then forward they rush with another wild roar.
The land, oh the land, my dear sister, for me!-
The good land, that stirs not for wind or for sea.
The ocean I love: but I love it the best
When I stand on the shore; for the shore is at rest.
THE FIRST POCKET.
WHAT is this tremendous noise ?
What can be the matter ?
Willie's coming up the stairs
With unusual clatter.
Now he bursts into the room,
Noisy as a rocket:
" Auntie I am five years old -
And I've got a pocket!"
Eyes as round and bright as stars;
Cheeks like apples glowing;
Heart that this new treasure fills
Quite to overflowing.
76 THE FIRST POCKET.
"Jack may have his squeaking boots;
Kate may have her locket:
I've got something better yet,-
I have got a pocket! "
All too fresh the joy to make
Emptiness a sorrow:
Little hand is plump enough
To fill it till to-morrow.
And, e'er many days were o'er,
Strangest things did stock it:
Nothing ever came amiss
To this wondrous pocket.
Leather, marbles, bits of string,
Licorice-sticks and candy,
Stones, a ball, his pennies too:
It was always handy.
And, when Willie's snug in bed,
Should you chance to knock it,
Sundry treasures rattle out
From this crowded pocket.
Sometimes Johnny's borrowed knife
Found a place within it:
He forgot that he had said,
I want it just a minute."
Once the closet-key was lost;
No one could unlock it:
Where do you suppose it was ? -
Down in Willie's pocket!
S- .. _- --- - - -
WINTER day! frosty day!
God a cloak on all doth lay.
On the earth the snow he sheddeth;
O'er the lamb a fleece he spreadeth;
Gives the bird a coat of feather
To protect it from the weather;
Gives the children home and food.
Let us praise him! God is good.
Should the wind rise high and higher,
We can warm us by the fire:
Should the snow hide all the ground,
Warmth and shelter can be found.
Fuel waits us in the wood:
God is bountiful and good.
WHAT do birdies dream of?
Flowers and leaves and waving wheat,
Brooks and buds and mosses sweet,
Nooks all hidden from the heat,
Little birdies dream of.
What do birdies sing of?
Morning dew-drops pearly fair,
Sunshine rippling down the air,
Heaven's rich beauty everywhere,
Little birdies sing of.
What are birdies proud of?
Soft-lined houses upon the tree,
Baby birdies, one, two, three, -
These, my pet, you still may see
Little birdies proud of!
"- ,'" '' -
A I I 1' p 1" -r 1
"ii i '-
-_ I, 11 d. *: > it,
SCall iL Uf un.
I' lfeel at heart fo n
I wish I were in monkey-land, -
i'1 'i it'- i
But, though I dance and caper, still
I feel at heart forlorn:
I wish I were in monkey-land,-
The place where I was born I
80 THE TRAVELLING MONKEY
There grow the great green cocoanuts
Around the palm-tree's crown:
I used to climb and pick them off,
And hear them- crack! -come down.
There, all day long, the purple figs
Are dropping from the bough;
There hang the ripe bananas: oh,
I wish I had some now!
I'd feast, and feast, and feast, and feast;
And you should have a share.
How pleasant 'tis in monkey-land!
Oh, would that I were there!
On some tall tree-top's highest bough,
So high the clouds would sail
Just over me, I wish that I
Were swinging by my tail!
I'd swing, and swing, and swing, and swing:
How merry that would be!
But, oh! a travelling monkey's life
Is very hard for me.
W HAT 1 as hc tl .nt .f thc, nitJdc. bruuk,
S As under the illou s h'; a\ hie t'ck ?
Wouldn't ou like .t: know ?
"'Let me r l-,y a while as I \%ill:
,B)' and bN I mu.t turn the mill,
.,' As farther down I go.
"Daisies, hanging over my side,
Beautiful daisies, starry-eyed,
Kiss me for I must go !
But think of me as I turn the wheel,
Grinding the corn into powdery meal
And drifts of golden snow."
THE dolls had a tea-party: wasn't it fun!
In ribbons and laces they came, one by one.
We girls set the table, and poured out the tea;
And each of us held up a doll on our knee.
You never saw children behave half so well:
Why, nobody had any gossip to tell!
And (can you believe it ?) for badness, that day,
No dolly was sent from the table away.
One dolly, however, the proudest one there,
Was driven almost to the verge of despair,
Because she had met with a simple mishap,
And upset the butter-plate into her lap.
THE TEA-PARTY. 83
The cups and the saucers they shone lily-white:
We helped all the dollies, they looked so polite.
We had cake and jam from our own pantry-shelves:
Of course, we did most of the eating ourselves.
But housewives don't know when their cares may begin.
The window was open, and pussy popped in:
He jumped on the table; and what do you think ?
Down fell all the crockery there, in a wink.
We picked up the pieces, with many a sigh;
Our party broke up, and we all said good-by:
Do come to our next one ; but then we'll invite
That very bad pussy to keep out of sight.
,, .. .. . .-."
BERTHA TO BABY.
O LITTLE, little mother! I was once as small as you;
And I loved my dolly dearly, as you are loving too;
And they fed me with a spoon, because no teeth I had;
And a rattle or a sugar-plum would make me very glad.
But now I'm old and very wise, -yes, four years old am I:
My shoes and stockings I put on ; I do not often cry;
And I can read The Nursery; and I can draw a house;
And with my pen and paper can be quiet as a mouse.
I have a little garden; it is planted full of flowers ;
And there, each pleasant afternoon, I pass some happy hours;
And soon I hope, my little pet, that you'll be large enough
To go with me and play, when the weather is not rough.
WHO IS IT ?
SURELY a step on the carpet I hear,
Some quiet mouse that is creeping so near.
Two little feet mount the rung of my chair:
True as I live, there is somebody there!
Ten lily fingers are over my eyes,
Trying to take me by sudden surprise;
Then a voice, calling in merriest glee,
"Who is it ? Tell me, and you may go free."
"Who is it? Leave me a moment to guess.
Some one who loves me ? The voice answers, Yes."
" Some one who's fairer to me than the flowers,
Brighter to me than the sunshiny hours ?
Darling, whose white little hands make me blind
Unto all things that are dark and unkind;
Sunshine and blossoms, and diamond and pearl, -
Papa's own dear little, sweet little girl !"
MOON, SO ROUND AND YELLOW.
MOON, so round and yellow,
Looking from on high,
How I love to see you
Shining in the sky!
Oft and oft I wonder,
When I see you there,
How they get to light you,
Hanging in the air;
Where you go at morning,
When the night is past,
And the sun comes peeping
O'er the hills at last.
Some time I will watch you
When you think I'm sleeping
Snugly in my bed.
GOOD-BY, BIRDS AND FLOWERS.
BULTTER: LT'r and dais\', -
Lily and bluebell,
Foxglovej tall and violet,
Rose and pimpernel;
Linn.t, thrush, andl blackbird,
Finch, and Jenny \\ren, --.
Good-by, pretty darlirngs!
Soon he'll l Ii-iet a-ain.
Little stars \ill watch you
T lil, ith iles : be:-aut,',
Spririgtirc bul:c, inii.t ll,,ld: ,
Tlh-i I'll sc.k voIu earl\,l.
[Birds upol:n the tree! t
\ h: omen s s,%\-L:t V i-'ll \vaible, ,'
Prett" cne k.' ,Ic..
88 GOOD-BY, BIRDS AND FLOWERS.
I will catch you, lily,
Laughing in your bed;
S I will kiss you, daisy,
Till your cheeks be red.
You may hide, sweet pansy:
I will find you out,
Where you, from your moss-couch,
Shyly peep about.
Buttercup so dainty,
I will have your gold;
Bluebell, pink, and foxglove,
All the gems you hold!
Good-by, then, till springtime,
Till the rosy hours;
Then will I be with you,
Pretty birds and flowers!
_^ ^ I)^-*-* .
PLAYING ROBINSON CRUSOE.
PLAY this is my little island
In the middle of the floor;
And this arm-chair is my castle,
With the ladder up before.
Play the cat is my man Friday;
And the broom shall be my gun;
I've some wooden goats and a parrot:
Please to call me Robinson.
Play I'm sighing for a vessel,
And I'm on the watch for her;
Then the table is my big boat,
Which I've tried in vain to stir.
90 THE SONG OF THE KETTLE.
Play the savages are coming:
They are making for the land!
Now, I'm going to fire among them
When they gather on the sand.
Oh! it's jolly on this island
For an hour or so to stay;
But to live so far from mother!-
I am glad it's only play !
THE SONG OF THE KETTLE.
MY house is old, the rooms are low,
The windows high and small;
And a great fireplace, deep and wide,
Is built into the wall.
THE SONG OF THE KETTLE. 91
There, on a hanging chimney-hook,
My little kettle swings;
And, in the dreary winter-time,
How cheerily it sings!
My kettle will not sing to-day-
What could it sing about?
For it is empty, it is cold :
The fire is all gone out.
Go, bring to me, to fill it up,
Fresh water from the spring;
And I will build a rousing fire,
And that will make it sing !
Bring white bark from the silver birch,
And pitch-knots from the pine;
And here are shavings, long and white,
That look as ribbons fine.
The little match burns faint and blue,
But serves the fire to light;
And all around my kettle, soon,
The flames are rising bright.
Crack, crack! begins the hemlock-branch,
Snap, snap! the chestnut stick;
And up the wide old chimney now
The sparks are flying thick.
Like fire-flies on a summer night,
They go on shining wings;
And, hark! above the roaring blaze
My little kettle sings !
92 UNDER PAPA'S HELMET.
The robin carols in the spring;
In summer hums the bee:
But, in the dreary winter, give
The kettle's song to me.
UNDER PAPA'S HELMET.
DRAWING BY OSCAR PLETSCH.
See him stand;
S Helm on head,
Spear in hand !
Blow the horn, When all wars
Beat the drum, Turn to play I
Let the foe
Forward come! Swords and guns
Then shall be
Boy, may we Only toys
See the day For you and me.
WHAT THE CAT SAID TO THE MONKEY.
You cowardly monkey, come out if you dare !
I'll teach you my dear little kittens to scare.
Because I had gone a few moments away,
You thought that to plague them was good monkey play.
But when I came back, just in season, I saw
What was up, and I gave you a pat with my paw.
It didn't set well, might I judge from your face.
What ails your poor arm? and why that grimace ?
Now, here hangs my paw; and, if you're inclined
To try it again, 'twill be ready, you'll find.
And mark, Mr. Monkey, if up to your fun,
I'll show, to your sorrow, I have more than one.
So Velvetpaw, Whitefoot, and Darkey, don't fear !
No monkey shall harm you while mother is near.
The rascal who plagued you has found I am rough
Of my paw and my claw he has had quite enough.
THE BIRD AND THE STAG.
, On the bough,
. Tell me what
You dream of now.
"Beneath the tree,
Do not start
At sight of me.
Live and gambol
In this wood:
I'd not harm you
If I could.
Sing, dear bird,
.- TAnd try to tell
4 Of the mate
You love so well.
Lie still, and hear
So sweet and clear.
a Men with guns,
Come not here
To shoot and slayl
It would be
A sin, I know,
So much joy
"To turn to woe.
WHAT DOES THE COCK SAY?
WHAT does the cock say every morn,
Crowing so loud and shrill ? -M
You may hear the sound of his lusty horn
Far over the distant hill.
"Get up, get up, get up!" he cries;
"Awake, awake, awake!
The sun is gilding the eastern skies ; "
And the day begins to break. '' Hl
"Get up, and the daisies will kiss thy feet,
The lark sing over thy head :
* Far better be out with the flowers so sweet
Than wasting the hours in bed !"
SDuwN from the ulls came Tommy Drew, T 'm
Something to find that he could do:
"I'll be a sailor! said he at last;
But, when he was sent to the top of the mast,
S I don't like this cried Tommy.
Home he returned, and thought he would stay
And work on a farm for a dollar a day.
But, while he was raking, he met a snake :
It made him falter, it made him quake.
"I don't like this screamed Tommy.
/ He left the farm, and made up his mind
A stable-boy's place he'd try to find;
But an old horse doubled him up with a kick,
And sent him away from the stable quick.
"I don't like that!" howled Tommy.
"1 A wooden horse can't kick," thought he :
-T i. I--- A wood-sawyer's life is the life for me! "
But the saw went hard: he hadn't the knack ;
And half of a log on his toe fell whack!
S"I don't like this !" groaned Tommy.
"A butcher I'll be, and cut up meat:
A good trade that; for people must eat;"
But, when with his cleaver he aimed a blow, /-
He hit the joint of his finger. "Oh!
I don't like that! yelled Tommy.
"I'll get an organ, a monkey too,
And make my fortune," said Tommy Drew.
But he got a scratch on his lip one day; ,, .
And, though the monkey was only in play, -
"I don't like this !" whined Tommy. \ .
"I'll get a gun: a sportsman I'll be! "
He spied a bird on the bough of a tree:
He lifted his gun, the trigger he drew; j
It knocked him flat, and off the bird flew.
"I don't like that!" shrieked Tommy. \
"A fisherman's life just meets my wish:
I'll go to the rocks by the sea, and fish." /
He threw his line ; but a breeze from the south,
That blew the hook, made it catch in his mouth. "
"I don't like this !" moaned Tommy.
He came to a place where the sun shone clear ;' -
And down he lay on a haycock near;
And up he looked at the sky so blue,
With nothing to sigh for, and nothing to do.
Ah this I like," yawned Tommy.
777 W Z"
LEARNING TO FLY. '
" JuMP you little birdie." You're so very little,
Hark the mother sings, And the tree's so tall,
" Fly you little birdie, Oh! I tremble, birdie,
Spread your little wings! Lest you get a fall.
See the little birdie Look he's flying safely:
Jumps from off the bough: He thinks not of fear;
Cunning little birdie, For the little birdie
Do be careful now. Knows his mother's near.
.9 ' ', .
I P ,'