Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 The Flowers and the Little Miss...
 The girl who would not learn to...
 The orderly little girl
 Learning by heart
 Talkative Toby
 The snow ball
 The foolish mouse
 What the hall clock says
 The fairy man
 Dog Pompey
 Animals and their qualities
 The dunce of a kitten
 The frost
 The sly dog
 Breakfast and puss
 Frightened by a cow
 A B C company
 The bird
 The setting sun
 Hetty and the fairies
 Miss Peggy
 Pretty puss
 The vulgar little lady
 Dolly dancing
 The sheep
 A present for Alfred
 The spider and the fly
 The frolicsome kitten
 Penance for beating a brother
 Show and use
 The new book
 The dog
 Always learning
 The idle boy
 Loss in delays
 The good boy
 Lucy and Dicky
 The carpenter's shop
 Come play in the garden
 The umbrella
 Jack Frost
 Poisonous fruit
 The kite
 The children and the fly
 Doing good
 Willie Winkie
 The wolf and the seven kids
 Come when you are called
 The butterfly
 The glow-worm
 The drum
 The pussy cat
 The high, high swing
 Climbing on backs of chairs
 The squirrel
 A little goosey
 The fairing
 Miss Sophia
 The meddlesome child
 A good name
 The cow
 The pet lamb
 Miss Hooper
 Good night
 Hot apple pie
 The absent-minded boy
 Getting up
 The linnet's nest
 Maxims for all
 A grace before meat
 Naughty Sam
 The good scholar
 The mastiff and the cat
 The new doll
 Back Cover

Group Title: Reason in rhyme for little children : one hundred choice moral rhymes
Title: Reason in rhyme for little children
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028346/00001
 Material Information
Title: Reason in rhyme for little children one hundred choice moral rhymes
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : col. ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: McLoughlin Bros., inc ( Publisher )
Publisher: McLoughlin Bros.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: [1876?]
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1876   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1876
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: embellished with fifty illustrations in oil colors.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00028346
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002236504
notis - ALH6979
oclc - 61164803

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
    Title Page
        Page 2
    The Flowers and the Little Miss - About getting up
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
    The girl who would not learn to sew
        Page 8
    The orderly little girl
        Page 9
    Learning by heart
        Page 10
        Page 11
    Talkative Toby
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    The snow ball
        Page 15
    The foolish mouse
        Page 16
    What the hall clock says
        Page 17
    The fairy man
        Page 18
    Dog Pompey
        Page 19
    Animals and their qualities
        Page 20 (MULTIPLE)
        Page 21
    The dunce of a kitten
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The frost
        Page 24
    The sly dog
        Page 25
    Breakfast and puss
        Page 26
    Frightened by a cow
        Page 27
        Page 28
    A B C company
        Page 29
    The bird
        Page 30
    The setting sun
        Page 31
    Hetty and the fairies
        Page 32
        Page 33
    Miss Peggy
        Page 34
    Pretty puss
        Page 35 (MULTIPLE)
    The vulgar little lady
        Page 36
    Dolly dancing
        Page 37
    The sheep
        Page 38
    A present for Alfred
        Page 39
    The spider and the fly
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The frolicsome kitten
        Page 42
    Penance for beating a brother
        Page 43
        Page 44
    Show and use
        Page 45
    The new book
        Page 46
    The dog
        Page 47
    Always learning
        Page 48
    The idle boy
        Page 48
    Loss in delays
        Page 49
    The good boy
        Page 50
    Lucy and Dicky
        Page 51
    The carpenter's shop
        Page 52
        Page 53
    Come play in the garden
        Page 54
    The umbrella
        Page 55
    Jack Frost
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Poisonous fruit
        Page 58
    The kite
        Page 59
    The children and the fly
        Page 60
    Doing good
        Page 61
    Willie Winkie
        Page 62
        Page 63
    The wolf and the seven kids
        Page 64
        Page 65
    Come when you are called
        Page 66
    The butterfly
        Page 67
    The glow-worm
        Page 68
    The drum
        Page 69
    The pussy cat
        Page 70
        Page 71
    The high, high swing
        Page 72
        Page 73
    Climbing on backs of chairs
        Page 74
    The squirrel
        Page 75
    A little goosey
        Page 76
        Page 77
    The fairing
        Page 78
    Miss Sophia
        Page 79
    The meddlesome child
        Page 80
    A good name
        Page 81
    The cow
        Page 82
    The pet lamb
        Page 83
    Miss Hooper
        Page 84
        Page 85
    Good night
        Page 86
    Hot apple pie
        Page 87
    The absent-minded boy
        Page 88
        Page 89
    Getting up
        Page 90
    The linnet's nest
        Page 91
    Maxims for all
        Page 92
    A grace before meat
        Page 93
    Naughty Sam
        Page 94
    The good scholar
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The mastiff and the cat
        Page 97
    The new doll
        Page 98
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

LE In.

The Baldwin Library
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Pretty Flower, till me wihi Y
Al your leaves d(i open Widet, i'|
Every morning when 1111 liii Ii .
The noble sun beIins in ridii, .
This is why, miy lad fair,
If you would flii, ri'isoin know,\
For betimes the plr;is.;iit ;iir
Very cheerfully dolh Iblow.
And the birds onu everi trIt'
Sing a merry. imeirri ltune:
And the busy honiiei her
Comes to suck Inl) Silgr oonll 01.
This is all the reason wIhy
I my little leaves iinduI I
Little Miss, comnI ~ akei and I'.
If I have not told you true,


ONE rainy morning,
Just for a lark,
I jumped and stamped
On my new Noah's Ark:
I crushed an elephant,
Smashed a gun,
And snapped a camel
Clean in two.

I finished the wolf
Without half trying,
And wild hyena,
And roaring lion;
I knocked down Ham,
And Japhet, too,
And cracked the legs
Of the kangaroo.

I finished, besides,
Two pigs and a donkey,
A Polar bear,
Opossum, and monkey;
Also the lions,
Tigers, and cats,
And dromedaries,
And tiny rats:-

There wasn't a thing
That didn't feel,
Sooner or later,
The weight of my heel:
I felt as grand
As grand could be-
But, oh, the whipping
My mammy gave me!


THE white, white snow,
It lies in the street,
Crisp and pleasant
Under the feet.
All on the house-tops,
All on the ground,
It came and settled
With never a sound.

"Oh," say the children,
"The nice white snow!"
-Children who have
Warm homes, you know:
And, "Oh, it is pleasant
Out in the street!"
Say the children
With well-shod feet.

But, say children
Who have no home,
"It is bitterly cold
Now the snow is come:"
And the white, white snow
Looks dreary and sad,
When little children
Are poorly clad.

Oh! children dear,
Who have cosy beds,
And cosy house-roof
Over your heads,
And thick warm clothing,
And well-shod feet:
-It is bitter for some
In the cold, cold street.


GODFREY Gordon Gustavus Gore--
No doubt you have heard the name before-
Was a boy who never would shut a door!
The wind might whistle, the wind might roar,
And teeth be aching, and throats be sore,
But still he n\ve,. would shut the door.
His father would beg, his mother implore,
( Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
We really do wish you would shut the door!"
Their hands they wrung, their hair they tore,
But Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
Was deaf as the buoy out at the Nore.
When he walked forth the folks would roar,-
"Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
Why don't you think to shut the door?"
They rigged out a shutter with sail and oar,
And threatened to pack off Gustavus Gore
On a voyage of penance to Singapore.
But he begged for mercy, and said, "No more!
Pray do not send me to Singapore
On a shutter, and then I will shut the door!"
"You will ?" said the parents; "then keep on shore!
But mind you do! For the plague is sore
Oh a fellow that never will shut the door-
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore!"

b- ____~r

Little Mary called Emma, who was just skipping by,
And she said, little cousin, can you tell me why
You are loved so much better by people than I ?
My face is as clean, and my hair shines like gold,
And my walk and my dress are as nice to behold,
Yet nobody likes me for that, I am told.
Ah, Mary, she said, this is all very true,
But if half as much mischief were I to do,
Indeed people would love me no better than you.
Your face is as clean, and your hair is as bright,
Your frock is as tidy, your hands are as white,
But there's one thing, dear Mary-you seldom do right.


If mamma bids less noise to be made when we play,
Or desires you be still whilst your lessons you say,
You never do try these commands to obey.

And when people are talking, you never care how
You interrupt what they're saying, which is ill-bred,
you know,
And papa has so oft bid us not to do so.

You take grand-mamma's pies, you climb on her
You lay hold of the gowns as you go up the stair,
And you gather the flowers that on the beds are.

Now I am no taller, nor bigger, you see,
Yet nobody here is angry with me,
Because I have learnt so obedient to be.

I mind what mamma says, whatever it is,
And when people are busy take care not to tease,
But endeavor, as much as I'm able, to please.

Then said Mary to Emma, O now do I see
Why you are more loved, and more happy than me;
And we're like mamma's tale of the Wasp and the
I remember it said, little children beware,
Because like the Wasp if you ill-behaved are,
You will never be loved, if you're ever so fair.


" Now, Nelly, there's a darling girl,
Do try and hem this handkerchief;
All little girls, as up they grow,
Must learn to hem, and baste, and sew,
Or they will surely come to grief.

"For you must learn to make your clothes,
Since none but babes and dolls of wood
By other people's hands are dress'd;
You're not a baby, that's confess'd;
And for a doll you're far too good."

But Nelly blubbers, pouts, and cries,
In spite of all Mamma could say;
To make a stitch she would not try,-
Mamma exclaim'd, with many a sigh-
"Nelly will be a doll some day!"

Regardless of this dreadful doom,
Nelly refused to learn to sew;
Her stupid head for nothing good,
Grew more and more like solid wood,
Her limbs more stiff began to grow.

Her brow grew flat, her eyes grew round,
Her arms stuck out like matches straight,
Her flesh grew hard as oak or deal,
A stupid smile her lips reveal-
To be a doll is Nelly's fate.

"So," cried Mamma, "to dress Miss Nell
Is now the easiest thing to do:
Whene'er she wants new shoes or frocks
We'll fetch the toyman with his box
To stick them on with nails and glue."


LITTLE ANNIE, of all my young friends, I like best,
Not because she is pretty, or handsomely dressed;
Nor is she as smart as some others I know,
Then why do you think I admire her so?

Because she is always so tidy and neat,
No spot can be found from her head to her feet;
And all through the house is her handiwork seen,
Every thing in its right place, and every thing clean.

Her smooth hair is parted upon a white brow,
And cheeks fair and rosy are blooming below.
Work, lessons, and play, follow each in their turn,
And she tries every day something useful to learn.

iii ,


Tis time that my baby should learn
What so oft he has heard, to repeat,
So shall he some sugar-plums earn;
Then let us begin, my Sweet.
For baby is three years old,
And has senses and memory too,
A great many things he's been told,
And he can remember a few.
He can tell me, I know, a few things,
Of the garden, the sky, and the weather;
That a bird has two legs and two wings,
But he cannot say ten lines together.


:l li

Then let us, my baby, begin,
And try these few lines here to learn,
It will not be a difficult thing,
And then he'll some sugar-plums earn.

Another story, Mother dear,
Did young Maria say;
You read so nice, so loud and clear,--
Another story, pray.

I love that book, I do indeed.
So take it up again;
I think I see the things you read,
You make it all so plain.

What would I give to read
like you,
Why nothing comes amiss! I
0, any thing I'll gladly do,
If you will teach me this.

Maria, then, must learn to
If she would read like me;
She soon may learn to read
as well;
O, that I will, said she.

TRk A' krETV Tri,,Y.

I SOMETIMES find, in looking round,
Some quiet little boys,
Who know when they should hold their tongues,
And make no heedless noise;

Who speak when they are spoken to,
As little boys should do,
But which young Toby never did,
As I'll relate to you.

From morn to night, from night, to morn,
From dusk to break of day,
No matter when, no matter where.
He ever talked away.

Nay, even in his sleep he talked,
When other folks were still,
Of talking (but for talking's sake)
He never had his fill.

Grandfather John-a quiet man-
Rebuked him for his noise,
And told him what sad punishment
Awaited naughty boys.

But little cared young Toby, though,
As this sad history shows,
He talked till out his coat-tails grew.
And hookey grew his nose;

Till round his eyes, till round his chin,
Till rounder grew his breast,
Till from his boots sharp bird's claws grew;
And on his head a crest;

Till both his legs got very thin,
A beak replaced his nose,
His arms turned to a pair of wings,
And feathers were his clothes:

And then, with harsh, discordant voice,
A parrot Toby grew:
On to a stand they chained him tight,
And there he sits in view.

And there he sits, a woeful sight
For little boys who talk,
With hardly wings enough to fly,
But not allowed to walk.


What! cry to be wash'd, and not love to be clean!
There go and be dirty, not fit to be seen,
And 'till you leave off, and I see you have smiled,
I won't take the trouble to wash such a child.

Suppose I should leave you now just as you are,
Do you think you'd deserve a sweet kiss fi-om papa ?
Or to sit on his knee, and learn pretty great A,
With fingers that have not been washed all the day!

Ah, look at your fingers, you see it is so ?
Did you ever behold such a little black row ?

And for once you may look at yourself in the glass:
There's a face to belong to a good little lass!

Come, come, now I see you're beginning to clear,
You won't be so foolish again then, my dear ?

Little Edward loved to go
Playing in the drifted snow,
Like some little boys I know;
Cold Edward!
He a solid snow ball made,
(Friendly tricks at home he played)
Which he in his pocket laid;
Wise Edward!
Very hard that day it freezed,
Very hard the ball was squeezed,
And he trotted home well pleased;
Sly Edward!
By the fire he took a seat,
Thoughtless of the power of heat,
Drops fall trickling on his feet;
Wet Edward!
Now the snow began to melt,
Vainly on the ground he knelt,
All now laughed at what he felt;
Poor Edward!


The Cat.
LITTLE mouse, with pretty black eyes,
Do you think that I'm telling lies?
I love you so, I want to kiss you-
Come for a moment, mother won't miss you.
Old Movuse.
Child, I advise you not to go!
The Cat.
Come, little pet, you do not know
What nice fat nuts I have for you-
All for one kiss, you'll find it's true.
Little Mouse.
Oh, mother, see how kind she is-
Please let me give her one little kiss.
Old J[",,.".
Child, you'll repent it, if you go.
The Cat.
Come, darling! see, I love you so:
I've got sweet cakes here all for you.
Little Mouse.
Oh, mother, mother, what shall I do?
May I run to her just for minute ?
There couldn't be any mischief in it!
Old be a dr
Child, it would be a dreadful blunder.

Little Mouse.
What could she do to me, then, I wonder,
With such a pretty, smiling face;
I'll go a bit nearer, just a pace.
The Cat.
Come, little silly one, come away.
Little Mouse.
Oh, mother, murder! help me, pray!
She's squeezing me-she's hurting me-
She's got me tight-I can't get free.
Old Mo.use.
Now it's too late to help you, child:
By cunning words and arts beguiled.
You would not take advice from me,
And I've no power to set you free.


THE clock's loud tick
Says, "Time flies quick !"
"Listen," says the chime-
"Make the most of time;
For, remember, young and old,
Minutes are like grains of gold.
Spend them wisely, spend them well-
For their worth can no man tell."

Oh, dear Mamma where have you gone ?
Come here, the baby stands alone;
And only think, indeed 'tis truth,
He has, just feel, a little tooth.
Look at his pretty shining hair,
His cheek so red, his skin so fair.
His curly ringlets, just like flax,
His little bosom, just like wax.
Oh, how I long 'till he can walk;
And then I'll long 'till he can talk;
And then I'll long 'till he can play,
When we have said our tasks each day.
I think he's growing very wise,
Now, don't you think so? Julia cries,
Then to the cradle off she ran,
To kiss the little fairy man.

Come hither little Dog to play,
And do not go so fau' away,
But stand and beg for food;
And if your tail I chance to touch,
You must not snarl so very much,
Pray Pompey do'nt be rude.
The Dog can cat and drink and sleep,
And help to bring the Cows and Sheep,
0, hear how Pompey barks:
Hark! hark! he says, Bow Wow! bow wow!
Then run away good Pompey now,
You'll tire us with your noise.


TIIE Dog is faithful, the Fox is sly,
The Horse is a fine strong creature,
The Pig you can't satisfy if you try,
So greedy is his nature.

The Owl will live in the ivy-bush,
His sorrows and joys c.icali:':diil ';
The Goat will give his foes a push,
For that he thinks fair dealing.

The Cat is fond of staying at home,
Except in the finest weather;
The Hedgehog loveth abroad to roaml
He and his wife together.


COME and see my baby dear;
Doctor, she is ill, I fear.
Yesterday, do what I would,
She would touch no kind of food;
And she tosses, moans, and cries.
Doctor, what do you advise?


Hum! ha! good madam, tell me, pray,
What have you offered her to-day?
Al, yes! I see! a piece of cake-
The worst thing you could make her take.
Just let me taste. Yes, yes; I fear
Too many plums and currants here,-
But, stop; I must just taste again,
For that will make the matter plain.

But, Doctor, pray excuse me now,-
You've eaten all the cake, I vow !
I thank you kindly for your care;
But surely that was hardly fair.

Ah, dear me! (lid I eat the cake ?
Well, it was for dear baby's sake.
But keep her in her bed, well warm,
And, you will see, she'll take no harm.
At night and morning use, once more,
Her draught and powder, as before;
And she must not be over-fed,
But she may have a piece of bread.
To-morrow, then, I dare to say,
She'll be quite right. Good day! good day!

TuE bLJNU u01 A KilEN.
Come, pussy, will you learn to read.
I've got a pretty book?
Nay, turn this way, you must indeed.
Fie, there's a sulky look.
Here is a pretty picture, see,
An apple, and great A:
How stupid you will ever be,
If you do naught but play.
Come, A, B, C, an easy task,
What any fool can do:
I will do any thing you ask,
For dearly I love you.
Now, how I'm vexed, you are so dull,
You have not learnt it half:
You will grow up a downright fool,
And make all pl..-plie laugh.

Mother so told me, I de'l.rl;e,
And made me quite ashamed;
So I resolved no pains to spare,
Nor like a dunce be blamed.
Well, get ali'-z, you naughty Kit,
And after mice go look;
I'm glad that I have got more wit,
I love my pretty book.

When Charles was only ten years old,
His uncle took him to the play;
The night was bad, he caught a cold,
And laid in bed the following day.
When Cliarles was well enough to rise,
He gently oped his uncle's door;
And, to his very great surprise,
Begged he would take him there no more.


TIE frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence I'll take my way.
I will not go on like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain,
But I'll be as busy as they."

Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs lie dressed
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake he spread
A coat of mail, that need not fear
The downward point of many a spear,
That he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.

He went to the window of those who slept,
And over each pane like a fairy crept;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,
By the light of the morn were seen
Most beautiful things; there were flowers, and trees,
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers; and these
All pictures in silver sheen!

But he did one thing that was hardly fair,
lie peeped in the cupboard, and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare,
"Now, just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he,
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three;
And the glass of water they've left for me
Shall 'tchiek! to tell them I'm drinking."


OH, once I knew a little d(og that had a bushy tail,
Some schoolboys fastened on to it a battered old
tin pail.
Indeed it was a cruel sport, at which you well may
With sticks and stones they chased the dog, and
clattered through the town.
But one day when a schoolboy was standing by
That dog he fetched a saucepan (he was bewitched,
the elf),
Then fastened it behind the boy, engaged upon his
And barking loudly, seemed to say, "How foolish
now you look!"

ii L i

:; I i li r L

Here's my baby's bread and milk,
For her lip as soft as silk:
Here's the basin, clean and neat;
Here's the spoon of silver sweet;
Here's the stool, and here's the chair
For my little lady fair.
No, you must not spill it out,
And drop the bread and milk about;
But let it stand before you liat,
And pray, remember pussy cat;
Poor old pussy cat that purrs
All so patiently for hers.

True she runs about the house,
Catching, now and then, a mouse,
But, though she thinks it very nice,
That only makes a tiny slice;
She don't forget, that you should stop,
And leave poor puss a little drop.

A very young lady,
With Susan the maid,
Who carried the baby,
Were one day afraid.
They saw a cow fi.-,lin..
Quite harmless and still,
Yet screamed without heed-
ing .
The man at the mill.
Who seeing their flutter,
Said, cows do no harm, -'. i i
But give you good butter
And milk from the farm."
"So don't have the folly ---
Of running at sight -
Of a gentle old Mooly, tB
In terror and fright."


"To-MoRRow, to-morrow, but not to-day!"
That is what lazy people say;
To-morrow I'll work, not now!
To-morrow that lesson hard I'll learn,
To-morrow from that sad fault I'll turn,
To-morrow I'll do it, I vow."

And why not to-day, pray, let me ask?
To-morrow will have its appointed task,
Each day will bring its own;
I cannot tell what may happen anew,
I can only see what is next to do,
And a thing once done is done.

He who advances not, must retreat,
Our moments go onward beat by beat,
Not one of them comes again.
To act in the present I still have scope,
But as to the future for which I hope,
May not that hope be vain!

In the book of my life, each useless day,
That passes all unemployed away,
Is but an unwritten page.
Well then I'll keep striving on and on,
That some good deed on every one
May be written, from youth to age.


GUESS what wonder I have heard,-
It is true, upon my word,-
Nineteen men, I understand,
M:jching up and down the land,
Fair and handsome to behold,
But no two alike, I'm told;
Free are all from fault or stain,
But not one can speak out plain,
And for this they've taken thought,-
Five interpreters they've brought:
Deeply learned men are they.
The first is wonderment all day,
Opens his mouth and says, "A! A!"
The second like a mouse you see,
IIe goes on squeaking, "E! E! E!"
The third's a selfish man,-and why?
He always talks of "I! I! I!"
The fourth comes forward, hobbling slow,
As if in pain, with "0! 0! 0!"
The fifth, I don't think speaks quite true:
He says he's not himself, but "U!"
And all together-they're so strong-
They go on talking all day long.

Look, what a pretty Bird I've got!
In yonder island field 'twas caught;
Just see its breast and painted wings,
And listen, John, how sweet it sings.
Do let me keep it, I'll cig;,ge
To mind it safely in this cage;
And not a moment will I ask
To idle from my school or task.
I'll feed you well, my pretty Bird,
With worms and crumbs of bread and seed,
And no ill-natured cat is here
To fill your little breast with fear.

Said kind mamma 0 do not so,
But haste, Maria, let it go
And then among the feathered throng,
'Twill treat you with its pretty -,,ng.

Papa, the Sun is setting now
1 see him in the west,
And all this weary world below
May now retire to rest:
Whilst in those countries far beyond,
The day begins to break,
And many a child, and many a bird,
Doth now begin to wake.

And when the morning .
dawns again, .,, "'
The Sun comes to our east, .. .
Then evening will begin with
And they to bed will haste.

How very good of God it lj1%
To make the Sun to go
About this great round world
of ours,
To light each country so,

DEAR Hetty had read in a curious book
A wonderful story one night,
About the sweet fairies who come to the earth,
And dance in the pale moonlight:
Beautiful creatures, with azure-like wings,
Who hide in the flowers by the woodland springs.
With head full of wonder she went to her bed;
Not long had dear Hetty been there,
When she open'd her eyes and saw by her side-
Scarce reaching as high as her chair-
A strange little fellow, all ribbons and lace,
Who bow'd most politely, and smiled in her face.
" a! ha! pretty miss, you've been thinking of me,
So I've come to say, how d'ye do ?
And ask your permission-now don't be afraid-
To show you some things that are new.
Pray get yourself ready, my carriage and four,
My dearest Miss Hetty, now wait at the door."
So Hetty went off with the carriage and four,
They seem'd to be flying away;
The strange little gentleman sat by her side,
But never a word did he say,
Until at a mansion, high up on a hill,
The carriage and four little horses stood still.
"My sweet little maiden, please follow me straight,
This palace you see is my own;

And I, too, am king of this wondrous realm,
Where never a mortal is known:
My subjects will think I'm committing a sin,
But still you shall peep at the wonders within."
So he blew on a horn that hung under his cloak-
The doors of the palace flew wide;
And hundreds and hundreds of queer little folks
Within them dear Hetty espied:
Some lay as if sleeping, some danced in a ring,
But none of them seem'd half so tall as the king.
"Now, pray, pay attention," the fairy king said,
Those creatures, so happy and fair,
Are just like the good thoughts that dwell in the
Flinging sunshine around everywhere:
Wherever they are there is brightness and joy,
No matter how heavy or dull is the sky.
"Those wily black fellows, chained up to the wall,
Like bad thoughts, we keep them apart;
We never give heed to their slanderous tongues,
Or take them at all to our heart:
The joy in our bosoms would soon fade away,
If we were to listen to aught they would say.
"Now, Hetty, my dear, when you go back to earth,
You'll think of the sight you have seen;
Let Good be the fairy that dwells in your heart,
And you be his good little Queen:
And so you'll be happy"-but here, with a scream,
Dear Hetty woke up; it was all a dream!

(I I : '
;-K' I
I, i:i!


As Peggy was crying aloud for a cake,
Which her mother had said she was going to make,
A gentleman knocked at the door!
lie enter'd the parlor and showed much llrplri-,
That it really was Peggy who made all the noise,
For he never had heard her before.
Miss Peggy ahaln'd, and to hide her disgrace,
Took hold of her frock, and quite cover'd her face,
For she knew she was nlaughty just then
And, instantly wiping the tears from her eyes,
She promis'd her mother to make no more noise,
And kiss'd her again and again.


Come, pretty Cat!
Come here to me!
I want to pat
You on my knee.

Go, naughty Tray!
By barking thus,
You'll drive away,
My pretty Puss.


Good little boys should nev-
er say,
I will, and, Geive me these;
-0 O no! that never is the way,
But, Mlother, ;f you please.

And, f yonu please, to sister
SGood boys to say are
And, Yes, Sir, to a gentle-
And, Yes, Mfa'amn, to a lady.


O BETTY! I was shocked to see
When guests dined at my brother's,
That you picked out the biggest peach,
And left the bad to others!
Oh! vulgar Betty Brady!
Uncivil Betty Brady!
Though you are drest
In all your best,
You're not a little lady!

And when that poor lad stammered so,
He scarce a word could utter,
It grieved my heart to hear you laugh
When he began to stutter!
Oh! vulgar Betty Brady!
Uncivil Betty Brady!
Though you are drest
In all your best,
You're not a little lady!

You ne'er picked up the spectacles,
When the old lady dropped them;
You helped the boys to make a noise-
You rather should have stopped them.

Oh! vulgar Betty Brady!
Uncivil Betty Brady!
Though you are drest
All in your best,
You're not a little lady!
For gentlefolk, they should be known
By words and manners gentle;
No finery that they can wear
Is half so ornamental!
Be courteous, Betty Brady,
Unselfish, Betty Brady;
Then though you dress
With quietness,
You're quite a little lady!

DANCE, Dolly, dance!
Like a lady advance:
Turn out your toes,
Don't look at your shoes;
Curtsey down low,
Now make a bow.
We'll have Harry to stand on the table,
To play us a tune as well as he's able;
When we've music, and fine music too,
Turn out your toes, as I bid you do.

/- -- -n

lJ' n
'pz fii -M-_^-\
^ ~- ^^c"lA

Lazy Sheep, pray tell me why
In the pleasant fields you lie,
Eating grass and daisies white,
From the morning till the night?
Every thing can something do,
But what kind of use are you?
Nay, my little master, nay,
Do not serve me so, I pray;
Don't you see the wool that grows
On my back, to make your clothes?
Cold, and very cold you'd get,
If I did not give you it.

True, it seems a pleasant thing
To nip the daisies in the spring,
But many chilly nights I pass
On the cold and dewy grass,
Or pick a scanty dinner where
All the cmiiiillI,,ln's brown and bare.
Then the farmer comes at last,
When the merry spring is past,
And cuts my woolly coat away,
To warm you in the winter's day;
Little master, this is why
In the pleasant fields I lie.

Dear Alfred, I've a gift for
A present from your Aunt;
A prayer-book. Can you
read it through?"
Said Alfred-No, I can't.

But if I teach you, will you
To learn, and sit quite still?
And with your utmost power
apply ?
Said Alfred-Yes, I will.


"WILL you walk into my parlor ?" said the Spider to the Fly;
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I've many curious things to show you when you are there."
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly; to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."
SI'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed ?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly: "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed I"
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly: "Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome-will you please to take a slice ?'
" Oh no, no," said the little Fly; "kind sir, that cannot be;
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"
"'Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes !"
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
" Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple-there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue-
Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast!
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor-but she ne'er came out aghin!

And now, dear children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

Dear kitten, do lie still, I say,
I really want you to be quiet,
Instead of scampering away,
And always making such a riot!
There, only see you've torn my frock,
And poor mamma must put a patch in;
I'll give you a right earnest knock,
To cure you of this trick of r1,it'.ling.
-- Nay do not scold your little cat,
She does not know what 'tis you're saying,
And ev'ry time you give a pat,
She thinks you mean it all for playing.

But if your plmsy understood
The lesson that you want to teach her,
And did she choose to be so rude,
She'd be indeed a naughty creature.


A little girl I knew,
Who looked extremely mild;
And many thought her too
A very clever child.
But ah, one fault she had,
Although her face was pretty)
Her temper it was bad;
And was not that a pity?
Both absent were one day .
Her Father and her Mother
And then, I grieve to say,
She beat her little brother, 4 "
The Nurse then thought it right,
For beating little Fred,
(Although it was not night)
To put her into bed.


COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste
To the bitlr fji's ball and the grasshopper's feast;
The trumpeter gad-fly has summoned the crew,
And the revels are now only waiting for you.
On the smooth-shaven grass, by the side of a wood,
Beneath a broad oak, which for ages had stood,
See the children of earth and the tenants of air
To an evening's amusement together repair.
And there came the beetle, so blind and so black,
Who carried the emmet, his friend, on his back;
And there came the gnat, and the dr'ul,,-jl/, too,
With all their relations-green, orange, and blue.
And there came the moth, with her plumage of down,
And the hornet, with jacket of velvet and brown,
Who with him, the wasp, his companion, did bring,
But they promised that evening to lay by their sting.
Then the sly little dormouse peeped out of his hole,
And led to the feast, his blind c .uILin, the mole;
And the snail, with her horns peeping out of her shell,
Came fatigued with the distance-the length of an ell.
A mushroom the table, and on it was spread
A w~ter-dock leaf, which their table-cloth made;
The viands were various, to each of their taste,
And the bee brought the honey to sweeten the feast.

With tk-p, most majestic, the snail did advance,
And he promised the gazers a minuet to dance:
But they all laughed so loud, that he drew in his head,
And went in his own little chamber to bed.
Then as evening gave way to the shadows of night,
Their watchman, the glow-zworm, came out with his light;
So home let us hasten, while yet we can see,
For no watchman is waiting for you or for me.


THE Poplar said-said he,
To the little meek Plum tree-
"For the little blue plum
That on you can come,
Why should you show such glee?"
"Yes, very glad am I,"
The Plum-tree he made reply,
"That I furnish food,
Arid am not mere wood,-
A stick that grows up high."
Then the Poplar turned quite red;
"I may be a stick," he said;
"But don't you see,
You poor little Plum-tree,
How high I can carry my head?"

Mamma, see what a pretty book
My dear papa has brought,
That I may at the pictures look,
And by the words be taught.
lie knew I had been good, you said,
And had learnt all my spelling;
I'm very much obliged to you,
My dear mamma, for telling.
And that when I am better taught,
And read with greater ease,
Some more new books shall then be bought,
His little girl to please.

My dear papa, he is so kind,
I dearly love a book;
And dearly too, I love to find
These pictures-pray do look!
And, 0, dear, if I could but read
As fast as I can spell,
How very happy I should be,
I love to read so well.
I know mamma, you'll tell me that
To practice is the way,
So will you kindly let me, now,
Another lesson say.

0, don't hurt the Dog, poor honest old Tray,
What good will it do you to drive him away?
Kind treatment is justly his right.
Remember how faithful he is to his charge,
And b:.nks at the rogues when we set him at large,
And giii',s us by day and by night.


WASTE not your precious hours in play,
Naught can recall life's morning;
The seed now sown will cheer your way,
The wise are always learning.
Nor think when all school days are o'er,
You've bid adieu to "learning;"
Life's deepest lessons are in store,
The meek are always learning.

When strong in hope, you first launch forth,
A name intent on earning,
Scorn not the voice of age or worth,
The great are always learning.
When right and wrong within you strive,
SAnd passions fierce contending,
Oh, then you'll know, how, while they live,
The good are always learning.


I DON'T like horses that will not spring,
And I don't like bells that will not ring;
I don't like firewood that will not burn;
I don't like mill-sails that will not turn,
And lazy children who will not learn.


WASTE not your precious hours in play,
Naught can recall life's morning;
The seed now sown will cheer your way,
The wise are always learning.
Nor think when all school days are o'er,
You've bid adieu to "learning;"
Life's deepest lessons are in store,
The meek are always learning.

When strong in hope, you first launch forth,
A name intent on earning,
Scorn not the voice of age or worth,
The great are always learning.
When right and wrong within you strive,
SAnd passions fierce contending,
Oh, then you'll know, how, while they live,
The good are always learning.


I DON'T like horses that will not spring,
And I don't like bells that will not ring;
I don't like firewood that will not burn;
I don't like mill-sails that will not turn,
And lazy children who will not learn.


SHUN delays, they breed remorse,
Take thy time, while time is lent thee;
Creeping snails have weakest force;
Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee:
Good is best when soonest wrought,
Lingering labor comes to naught.

Hoist up sail while gale doth last,
Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure;
Seek not time when time is past,
Sober speed is wisdom's leisure:
After-wits are dearly bought,
Let thy fore-wit guide thy thought.

Time wears all his locks before,
Take thou hold upon his forehead,
When he flies, he turns no more,
And behind, his scalp is naked:
Works adjourned, have many stays,
Long demurs breed new delays.

Seek thy salve while sore is green,
Festered wounds ask deeper lancing;
After-cures are seldom seen,
Often sought, scarce ever chancing:
Time and place give best advice,
Out of season, out of price.


When Philip's good mamma was ill,
The servant begg'd he would be still,
Because the doctor aud the nurse
Had said that noise would make her worse.

At night, when Philip went to bed,
lie kissed mamma, and whispering said,
"My dear mamma, I never will
Make any noise when you are ill."

Miss Lucy was a charming child.
She never said, I won't!
If little Dick her playthings spoiled,
She said, pray, Dicky, don't!
He took her waxen doll one day,
And banged it round and round,
Then tore its legs and arms away,
And threw them on the gn.oiiIl.
His good mamma was angry quite,
And Lucy's tears ran down;
But Dick went supperless that night.
And since has better grown.


ONE morning, a spruce little Gimlet
Looked into a carpenter's shop;
And, standing upright on its screw,
It surveyed it from bottom to top.
"Much company,-no conversation,"
It said, as it looked at the tools;
"All standing stock still in their places!
They must be parcel of fools."
"Are you well?" said the spruce little Gimlet,
Addressing itself to the Plane.
"Pretty well, when I'm well fed on shavings
That are not too coarse in the grain."
"And you, do you like your vocation?"
"'Tis wearisome work," said the Saw,
"To gnaw all day long at hard timber;
It gives one a pain in the jaw."
"Do you sleep well up there in your hammock?"
It said to the Tenpenny-nails,
Which, in the two ends of a wallet,
Hung down like a couple of scales.
The Gimlet awaited their answer,
And seemed not a little amused
When the Ten-pennies frankly confessed,
That, as yet, they had never been used.

So then it inquired of the Hatchet,
That hung with its sharp-looking nose
Hooked over a peg in the wall,
If it "liked dealing out heavy blows?"
The Hatchet vouchsafing no answer,
The Gimlet turned round on its screw,
And said to a great heavy Mallet,
"That question's intended for you."
"I always was told," said the Mallet,
"To look at my friends when I spoke;-
My head aches a good deal this morning,
It suffers from every stroke."
"Will you dance?" it inquired of the Pincers;
"I see you're provided with legs,
Though I can't compliment you upon them-
A couple of queer-looking pegs."
Notwithstanding, the Pincers were flattered,
And, straddling across a deal-board,
They slid from the top to the bottom,
Without ever speaking a word.
The Gimlet turned merrily round
On its sharp little screw of a leg,
While the Pincers made many a bound
And a pirouette, poised on one peg.
The Plane and the Saw and the Mallet
Made music-each such as it could;
And the whole joiner's shop rang with laughter,
That pealed from the unseasoned wood.

Little sister, come away,
And let us in the garden play,
For it is a pleasant day.
On the grass-plat let us sit,
Or, if you please, we'll play a bit,
And run about all over it.
But the fruit we will not pick,
That would be a naughty trick,
And, very likely, make us sick.
Nor will we pluck the pretty flowers,
That grow about the beds and bowers,
Because, you know, they are not ours.

We'll pluck the daisies, white and red,
Because mamma has often said,
That we may gather them instead.
And much I hope we always may
Our very dear mamma obey,
And mind whatever she may say.


Once as little Isabella
Ventured, with a large Umbrella,
Out upon a rainy day,
She was nearly blown away.
Sadly frightened then was she,
For 'twas very near the sea,
And the wind was very high,
But, alas! no friend was nigh.
Luckily, her good mamma
Saw her trouble from afar;
Running just in time, she caught her
Pretty little flying daughter.


Now listen. Once upon a time
There lived a foolish boy,.
Who would not be contented
With any pretty toy.
There was one thing he wished for
(You'll think it very droll),
But this was what he wanted-
To see the great North Pole.
So he got upon a donkey's back,
Once in the summer weather,
And these two fit companions
Went on their way together.
They traveled through great forests,
And deserts that were greater;
They waded through the seas, and then
Jumped over the Equator.
And then they journeyed northward
A long, long dreary way;
It was a weary journey
For the longest summer's day.
The north wind, bluff and blustering,
Blew in their faces cold;
They thought, both boy and donkey,
They must be growing old-
They went so slow and they felt so cold.

At last they came to the old North Pole,
And it with age was white;
To see it there so stiff and still,
It was a wondrous sight.
Then, foolish boy! he touched it with
One finger, only one;
But quickly he repented
What he had rashly done.
For the three tall icebergs round the Pole,
Each shook his great white head,
And then there were no icebergs there,
But three tall men instead.
The first said, "Foolish little boy,
You shall be always cold;"
The second said, "And you shall live
Till you are very old;"
The third said, "You may tremble
For all we say is true,
And everything you breathe upon
Shall be as cold as you."
And so it is: we always know
When that little boy is near,
And when our lips are pinched and blue,
We say "Jack Frost" is here.

L3 '


As Tommy and his sister Jane
Were walking down a shady lane,
They saw some berries, bright and red,
That hung around and over head.
And soon the bough they bended down
To make the scarlet fruit their own;
And part they ate, and part in play
They threw about and flung away.
But long they had not been at home
Before poor Jane and little Tom
Were taken sick and ill, to bed,
And since, I've heard, they both are dead.




John White
Flew his kite,
On a boisterous day,
A gale
Broke the tail,
And it soon flew away.

And while
On a stile,
He sat sighing and sad,
Charley Gray
Came that way,
A good natured lad.

Don't cry;
Wipe your eye,"
Said he, little Jack;
Stay here;
Never fear, [ba
And I'll soon bring


To tile stile,
With a smile,
He presently brought
The kite,
And John White [ought.
Thanked him much, as he


,L~'l.l ~i



SOME children at a window pane were teasing a
poor fly;
It chanced a fairy saw them as she was passing by.
She cried, "You cruel children, this you have often
Now you shall try, if, as you say, it really is such
With that she touched them with her wand, and,
much to their surprise,
The fly grew quite as big as them, and they as small
as flies;
And when up and down the glass the insect saw
them crawl,
It worried now, as they had done, and made them
cry and bawl;
And, racing round the window frame, that fly did
buzz and bite;
Of fear the children nearly died, and till-exhausted
The fairy, kinder far than they, changed them all
back again,
And placed the children on the floor, the fly upon
the pane.
"I hope now," said the fairy, "that you'll recollect
and try
To do to helpless little ones as you would be done


I MAY, if I have but a mind,
Do good in many ways;
Plenty to do the young may find,
In these our busy days.
Sad would it be, though young and small,
If I were of no use at all.

One gentle word that I may speak,
Or one kind loving deed,
May, though a trifle, poor and weak,
Prove like a tiny seed.
And who can tell what good may spring
From such a very little thing?

Then let me try each day and hour,
To act upon this plan:
What little good is in my power,
To do it while I can.
If to be useful thus I try,
I may do better by and by.

When Work comes into a house to stay,
Then Want will speedily flee away:
But let Master Work once go to sleep,
And Want will in at the window peep.

r Irk

Hey! Willie Winkie, Rumbling, tumbling all about
Are you coming then? Crowing like a cock;
The cat's singing gay tunes Screaming like I don't know what
To the sleeping hen, Waking sleeping folks.
The dog is lying on the floor, Hey Willie Winkie!
And does not even peep; Can't you keep him still,
But here's a wakeful laddie, Wriggling off a body's knee
That will not fall asleep. Like a very eel.

Anything but sleep, yon
Glowing like the moon;
Rattling in a stone jug,
With an iron spoon.


That has with sleep a battle,
Before he's done with play,
A wee, wee, dunipy, toddling lad
That runs the livelong day.



III, ...


>--- .

Wee Sandy in the corner,
Sits crying on a stool;
And deep the laddie rues
Playing truant from the school.
So you'll learn from silly Sandy,
He's gotten such a fright;
To do nothing through the day,
That may cause you tears at night.
Those who will not be advised,
Are sure to rue ere l1ng;
And many pains it costs them
To do the thing that's wrong.




ONE day an old goat
Who, from men quite remote,
With her seven kids lived in a wood,
Told her kids o'er and o'er
Not to open the door,
And went forth to find them some food.

She'd not been gone long,
When a wolf fierce and strong
Came knocking "tap, tap!" at the gate,
Said he, Children dear,
Your mother is here;
So don't keep me waiting-it's late."

At first, each small kid
Did as he was bid,
And they kept the house-door shut quite fast:
But the wolf smiled and coaxed,
And the poor kids he hoaxed,
Till they opened the house-door at last.

When the wolf once got in,
He did quickly begin
To devour all the kids, one by one:
And he swallowed, I've heard,
Just six-on my word -
Before lie his supper had done.

When the old goat returned
With the food she had earned
By her diligent search in the glade,
Of the kids she had left
When she found herself reftt,
A loud lamentation she made.

And now the old story
Goes on to inform ye,
That the big wolf lay down for a nap;
Within him, 'tis said
The kids were not dead,
For he'd swallowed them whole, by good hap.

So while he was sleeping,
The old goat came creeping,
And at once with her shears cut him through;
And the kids they jumped out,
And went leaping about;
(But I don't know if this part is true.)

MORAL:- But it still doth appear
That two morals are clear,
And I will rehearse them directly;
First, "When you are told
By those who are old
What to do, go and do it exactly."

The second, again,
Is equally plain,
It is this: "Don't be eager and greedy;
Like a wolf do no eat,
Nor devour all your meat,
But leave some for the poor and the needy."

Where's Susan, and Kitty, and Jane ?
Where's Billy, and Sammy, and Jack ?
O, there they are down in the lane;
Go, Betty, and bring them all back.
But Billy is rude and won't come,
And Sammy is running too fast;
Come, dear little children come home,
And Billy is coming at last.
I'm glad he remembers what's right,
For though he likes sliding on ice,
He should not be long out of sight,
And never want sending for twice.


See yonder painted Butterfly,
How gaudily it ,iIIs on high,
And seems to wish to reach the sky.
Late it was an insect mean,
Crawling o'er the shaven green,
Or on the cabbage leaves was seen.
And thus, my child, is man on earth,
A thing of mean and mortal birth;
His life a span; his power a breath.
But his immortal better part
Into a higher world will start,
When death his soul and body part.
And then he will glorious rise
With body fitted to the skies,
An Angel's form, not Butterfly's!


One evening,-it was getting dark,-
As Jane and Charles came through the park,
With Uncle John returning, they
Saw on a bank a Glow-worm lay,
Which glittered like a diamond spark,
Beneath an oak-tree's -1ihadlw dark;
And little Jane believed it was
A star just falling on the grass;
And cried-" Dear uncle, see!-
There lies a star, do fetch it me."
"A star ?" her uncle smiling said,
"That is an insect, little maid."
"No, no!" said Charles, "it shines too bright:
Why uncle,-look!-it gives a light!
It can't be that,-but yet I'm far
Too wise to take it for a star,
Like little, Jane, who does not know
That stars are worlds, though small they show,
But this is quite another thing,
'Tis dear mamma's best diamond ring,
"I'm glad that you are grown so wise,"
His uncle said, "but as it lies
Among the grass, so very near,
Go take it up, and bring it here.
"Dear uncle, you are right, I vow:
It is a living insect now."
"Yes, Charles, a glow-worm; take some grass,
And put it on it in a glass,

When we go home, and all the night
'Twill shine and show a pretty light,
Just like a lamp; but when 'tis day,
You'll see an insect dull and gray,
For all its brightness fades away."


"OTi, where can it come from-that wonderful sound ?"
Said little Jack Brown, as he sat on the ground,
With a beautiful drum that his father had sent,
In the hope of his son being killed with content.

"I can't make it out;" and he listen'd again
To hear where it came from, but listen'd in vain;
So he took up a knife and cut open the skin,
But, of course, when he look'd he found nothing within.

Not content with the pleasure the present bestow'd,
He would know to what reason that pleasure he ow'd,
And discovered at last, which no doubt made him cross,
That the knowledge he gain'rl did not cover the loss.

'Tis thus with a great many people, I find,
Who search for a reason as if they were blind,
Nor e'er give a thought, be it ever so small,
Till their labor has ended in nothing a(t all.

d' : "H

Little puss, come here to me,
Gently jump upon my knee,
And then your pretty eyes I'll see,
But do not scratch.
Pray do you ever catch a mouse,
As you run up and down the house?
I'm sure you do, good Mrs. Puss,
With these same claws.
Here, share with me this little seat,
I never now poor puss will beat,
So let me feel how soft your feet,
Since you don't scratch.

How very nicely you can draw,
Quite out of sight each little claw,
And make so soft a velvet paw,
Good little puss.

I saw a little mouse, you know,
Once yonder in the yard below,
And pounce you went upon it so,
Poor little thing.

You loosed it oft, and let it run,
Then to pursue it you begun,
And seemed to think it made good fun,
You cruel puss.

But do not tease it so, I pray,
Because I've heard papa oft say,
It was a very cruel way,
And should not be.

So, pussy, you must kill it quite,
Not put it in so great a fright,
And seem to glory in the sight;
Do you hear, puss?

Give to the Father praise,
Give glory to the Son;
And to the Spirit of His Grace.
Be equal honor done.


Now listen while I tell you a very funny thing,
That once befell a little boy who had a splendid swing;
A dreadful, dreadful little boy, who dearly loved a riot,
And hated nothing on the earth so much as sitting quiet.

The swing of which I'm speaking hung between two high old trees,
And this boy, whose name was Harry-a naughty little tease-
Had a very tall, strong brother, who used to swing him high,
Up, up, and up, and higher up, till he seemed to touch the sky.

And yet that dreadful Harry was never quite content,
Although his brother swung him till his very breath was spent:
It was always Oh, please send me just a little, little higher,
I long so much to see the sky a little, little nigher."

Now guess who looked and listened, one wintry afternoon,
And chuckled to himself and grinned? The Old Man of the Moon!
Daylight had almost darkened, the stars were passing through the trees,
And all but very naughty boys had gone home to their teas.

A wild wind swept the garden-walks, the withered leaves whirled by,
The branches of the old trees creaked; and though they scarce knew why,
The boys both felt a little queer, Mnd stared up at the moon,
And wished the pleasant daylight had not died away so soon.

" Just one swing more, then we'll run home!" our rascal Harry cried,
"One high, high swing!" With all his might his big, strong brother tried
To send him up, and up, and up, far as the sailing clouds,
While the little twinkling stars came out and stared at him in crowds.

The Old Man in the Moon stooped down and-gripped him by the hair,
And caught him up out of his swing, and whirled him through the air;
Crying, "Now I hope you're high enough, you plaguey little boy!
And life among the moon-folk queer I hope you may enjoy."

Poor Harry's heart went pit-a-pat, his brain was in a whirl;
He almost cried-indeed he did !-just like a baby girl;
He begged the Moon Man to let go, and promised nevermore
To be caught so high up in the air where he'd no right to soar.

" At last, then, you are high enough ?" the teasing Old Man said.
"Oh quite, quite, quite!" poor Harry cried; "please let me home to bed;
My head is running round and round-I don't feel well at all!"
Ere he could say another word the Moon Man let him fall.

Down, down, and down, and farther down, the trembling Harry fell.
But oh, how glad I am to say, no accident befell!
He got to earth quite safe and sound, and scampered home like mad,
Vowing that ne'er again he'd be so wild a little lad.

Then youngsters all, both great and small, this fabled tale who read,
I beg that to its warning you will every one take heed;
"Enough's as good as a feast," be sure, in every kind of fun.
And now good-bye-I'll say no more-my funny story's done.

What, climb on the back of a chair!
O Henry, how can you do so?
Sometime, if you do not take care,
You will get a most terrible throw.
Suppose grand-mamma had got up,
Pray what had become of you then?
Indeed, my dear Henry, I hope
You never will do so again.
Your poor little teeth may be broke,
Or your face get some terrible 1'iiioe,
Indeed, and indeed, 'tis no joke,
And you must not do just as you choose.

For -uipipl' there's no danger at all,
'Tis your duty to mind what I say;
So I'll punish you, Henry, next time,
You dare my commands disobey.


"The Squirrel is happy, the Squirrel is gay,'
Little Mary once said to her brother;
"He has nothing to do, or think of but play.
And to jump fiom one bough to another."

The Squirrel, dear Mary, is merry and wise,
For true wisdom and joy go together;
He lays up in Summer his Winter supplies,
And then he don't mind the cold weather.

., ~-


SHE shivering at the corner stood
A child of four or over;
No cloak nor hat her small soft arms
And wind-blown curls to cover.
IHer dimpled face was stained with tears:
Her round blue eyes ran over!
She cherished in her wee, cold hand
A bunch of faded clover;

And one hand round her treasure, while
She slipped in mine the other;
Half scared, half confidential, said,
"Oh, please, I want my mother."
"Tell me your street and number, pet,
Don't cry, I'll take you to it."
Sobbing she answered, "I forget;
The organ made me do it.

"He came and played at Miller's steps,
The monkey took the money;
And so I followed down the street,
That monkey was so funny.
I've walked about a hundred hozrs
From one street to another;
The monkey's gone, I've spoiled my flowers:
Oh, please, I want my mother."

"But what's your mother's name, and what
The street ?-now think a minute."
"My mother's name is mamma dear'-
The street-I can't begin it."
"But what is strange about the house,
Or new, not like the others?"
"I guess you mean my trundle-bed,-
Mine, and my little brother's."

The sky grew stormy; people passed,
All muffled homeward faring;
"You'll have to spend the night with me,"
I said at last, despairing.
I tied her kerchief round her neck-
"What ribbon's this, my blossom ?"
"Why don't you know ? she smiling asked,
And drew it from her bosom.

A card, with number, street, and name;
My eyes astonished met it;
"For," said the little one, you see
I might sometimes forget it;
And so I wear a little thing
That tells you all about it;
For mother says she's very sure
I would get lost without it."


Oh dear! what a beautiful Doll
My sister has bought at the fair!
She says I must call it "Miss Poll,"
And make it a bonnet to wear.
0 pretty new Doll! it looks fine;
Its cheeks are all cover'd with red;
But, pray, will it always be mine?
And, pray, may I take it to bed?
How kind was my sister to buy
This Dolly, with hair that will curl!
Perhaps, if you want to know why,
She'll tell you I've been a good girl.

45 E

Miss Sophy, one fine sunny day,
Left her work and ran away:
When soon she reached the garden gate,
Which finding lock'd, she would not wait,
But tried to climb and scramble oer
A gate as high as any door.
Now little girls should never climb,
And Sophy won't another time,
For when upon the highest rail
Her frock was caught upon a nail,
She lost her hold, and, sad to tell,
Was hurt and bruis'd-for down she fell.


IMATILDA was a pleasant child,
But one bad trick she had,
That e'en when all around her smiled,
Oft made her friends feel sad.

Sometimes she'd lift the teapot-lid,
To peep at what was in it;
Or tilt the kettle, if you did
But turn your head a minute.
As grandmamma went out one day,
Her snuff-box and her specs
She down upon the table lay,
Forgetting Tilly's tricks.
Immediately upon her nose
She placed the glasses wide,
Then looking round, as I suppose,
The snuff-box too she spied.
So thumb and finger went to work,
To move the stubborn lid;
And as she gave it quite a jerk,
Much mischief then she did.
The snuff came puffing in her face,
And eyes, and nose, and chin,
And as she ran about for ease,
The snuff got further in.

She dashed the spectacles away,
To wipe her tingling eyes;
And there in twenty bits they lay,
As grandmamma she spies.

She then, while smarting with the pain,
Sneezing, and sick, and sore,
Made many a promise to refrain
From meddling any more.


CmILDREN, choose it,
Don't refuse it,
'Tis a precious diadem;
Highly prize it,
Don't despise it,
You will need it when you're men.

Love and cherish,
Keep and nourish,
'Tis more precious far than gold;
Watch and guard it,
Don't discard it,
You will need it when you're old.

THE Cow.
Thank you, pretty Cow, that iil1de
Pleasant milk, to soak my bread;
Every day, and every night,
Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white.
Do not chew the hemlock rank,
Growing on the weedy bank;
But the yellow cowslips eat,
They will make it very sweet.
Where the purple violet g,.,w-,
Where the bubbling water flows,
Where the grass is fresh and fine,
Pretty Cow, go there and dine.


TiIi PET Tii.

My own pet Lamb, I long to be
From envy, pride, and malice free;
Patient, and mild, and meek like thee,
My own pet Lamb.

I long to know my Shepherd's voice,
To make his pleasant ways my choice
And in the fold like thee rejoice,
My own pet Lamb.

Be you to others kind and true,
As you'd have others be to you.


Miss HOOPER was a little girl,
Whose head was always in a whirl;
For she had hoop upon the head-
"My precious, precious hoop!" she said.

Trundling a hoop was her delight
From breakfast time to nearly night,
She loved it so! and, truth to tell,
At last she drove her hoop too well.
That hoop began to go one day
As if it never meant to stay;
Of course the girl would not give in,
But followed it through thick and thin.
The King and Queen came out to see
What sort of hoop this hoop might be;
My Lady said, "I think, my Lord,
That hoop goes of its own accord."
This vexed the little girl, and so
She gave the hoop another blow,
And off it went-oh, just like mad!-
She ran with all the strength she had.
Her hat-strings slipped, her hat hung back,
And soon she felt her waistband crack,
Ifer dear long hair flew out behind her,-
Her parents sent forth scouts to find her.

The King leapt on his swiftest horse,
And followed her with all his force;
Her father cried, "A thousand pound
To get my girl back safe and sound!"

Some people came and made a dash,
To pull her backward by the sash,
But all in vain-she did not stop;
At last she fainted with a flop.

When she came to, she sighed, with pain,
"I'll never touch a hoop again!"
Is it not, sad, when girls and boys
Go to excess like this with toys?

As for the hoop, the people say
It kept on going night and day,
Turning the corners, quite correct,-
A thing which you would not expect.

And so it lived, a hoop at large,
Which no one dared to take in charge;
Of coursed it thinned, but kept its shape,
A sort of hoop of wooden tape.

It thinned until people took a glass
To see the ghostly circle pass,
And only stopped-the facts are so-
When there was nothing left to go.

Baby, baby, lay your head
On your pretty little bed;
Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tuck'd in tight,
Little baby dear, good night.

Yes, my darling, well I know
How the bitter wind doth blow
And the winter's snow and rain
Patter on the window pane;
But they cannot come in here
To my little baby dear.

For the curtains warm are spread
Round about her cradle-bed;
And her little night-cap hides
Every breath of air besides;
So 'till morning shineth bright,
Little baby dear, good night.

As Charles his 4iti.'s sat between
An Apple Pie was brought;
Slily to get a piece unseen,
The little fellow thought.
A piece from off Sophia's plate
Into his mouth he flung;
But, ah! repentance came too late,
It burn'd his little tongue.
The tears ran trickling down his cheek,
It put him to such pain;
He said (as soon as he could speak)
'll ne'er do so again."


I KNOW an absent-minded boy,
To meditate is all his joy;
He seldom does the thing he ought,
Because he is so wrapt in thought.
One day, absorbed in meditation,
He roamed into a railway station,
And in a corner of a train
Sat down, with inattentive brain.
They rang the bell, the whistle blew,
They shook the flags, the engine flew;
But all the noise did not induce
This boy to quit his mood abstruse.
And when three hours were past and gone,
He found himself at Somethington;
"What is this place?" he sighed in vain,
For railway men can not speak plain.
When he got home his parents had
To pay his fare, which was too bad;
More than two hundred miles, alas!
The absent boy had gone first-class.
The absent boy went past a shop
Where a machine the meat did chop:
The man, who thought the joke was neat,
Said, "Will you be made sausage-meat

In my machine?" and, as you guess,
Our meditative friend said "'Yes."
Of course the notion was absurd,
But if the man had meant the word,

And just that very day had been
In want of meat for his machine,
The boy might have incurred a fate
Too horrible for me to state!

For fear he should, in absentness
Forget his own name and address
Whilst he pursues his meditations,
And so be lost to his relations,

Would it be best that he should wear
A collar like our Tray? or bear
His name and home in indigo
Pricked on his shoulder, or elbow ?

The chief objection to this plan
Is, that his father is a man
Who often moves. If we begin
To prick the boy's home on his skin,

Before long he will be tattooed
With indigo from head to foot-
Perhaps a label on his chest
Would meet the difficulty best.

Baby, baby, ope your eye,
For the sun is in the sky,
And he's peeping once again
Through the fi'osty window pane;
Little baby, do not keep
Any longer, fast Isleelp.
There now, sit in mother's lap,
That she may untie your cap,
For the little strings have got
Twisted into such a knot;
Ah! for shame,-you've been at play
With the bobbin, as you lay.


There it comes,-now let us see
Where your petticoats can be;
0,-they're in the window seat,
Folded very smooth and neat:
When my baby older grows
She shall double up her clothes.

Now one pretty little kiss,
For dressing you so neat as this,
And before we go down stairs,
Don't forget to say your pray'rs,
For 'tis God who loves to keep
Little babies in their sleep.


Quick from the garden, Charles ran in,
With look of joy, and voice of glee;
A Linnet's nest, Papa, I've seen:
0 come--'tis in the Apple-tree.

Four little birds I just could see,
And then I ran to tell you here:
For Puss was waiting near the tree,
And she will get them all, I fear.


IF a man hath done thee wrong,
Do not thou remember long;
If he granted thee a boon,
Do not thou forget it soon.

If thou give a poor man food,
)o it not for thine own good;
Benefits should all be given,
As a debt thou ow'st to Heaven.

If thy neighbor ask thine aid,
Be not thou as one afraid;
Quickly shouldst thou help impart,
Giving with a cheerful heart.

If in peace thou seek'st to live,
Seek not vengeance, but forgive;
If in peace thou look'st to die,
Love thou e'en thine enemy.

If thou wouldst be truly strong,
Labor, though the day be long;
Learn to wait, and strength from Heaven,
To thy weakness shall be given.


Eat thy meat in thankfulness,
Child of modest mind;
Wishing not for more or less,
Than what thou dost find;
Is thy portion but a crust?
Think what poor there be
That would, grovelling in the dust,
Beg that crust of thee!

If thy board with plenty smile,
Make no blessing less,
By lamenting all the while
Thine unworthiness.
Be no loud-tongued hypocrite,
In self-worship drest;
He whose grateful heart beats light.
Praises God the best.

If thy table mean supply
Just what hunger needs,
Never ask with envious eye
How thy neighbor feeds.
With an honest mind fulfil
Thine own humble part,
Eat thy meat in gladness still,
And singleness of heart.

Tom and Charles once took a walk,
To see a pretty lamb;
And, as they went, began to talk
Of little naughty Sam.
Who beat his youngest brother, Bill,
And threw him in the dirt;
And when his poor mamma was ills
He teas'd her for a squirt.
And I, said Tom, won't play with Sam
Although he has a top:
But here the pretty little lamb
To talking put a stop.


Joseph West had been told,
That if, when he grew old,
He had not learnt rightly to spell,
Though his writings were good,
'Twould be not understood:
And Joe said, I will learn my task well.

And he made it a rule
To be silent at school,
And what do you think came to pass?
Why he learn't it so fast
That from being the last,
He soon was the first in the class.


OLD Winter is a sturdy one,
And lasting stuff he's made of--
His flesh is firm as iron-stone,
There's nothing he's afraid of.
He spreads his coat upon the heath,
Nor yet to warm it lingers,
He scouts the thought of aching teeth,
Or chilblains on his fingers.
Of flowers that bloom or birds that sing,
Full little cares or knows he,
He hates the fire and hates the Spring,
And all that's warm and cosey.
But when the foxes bark aloud,
On frozen lake and river
When round the fire the people crowd
And rub their hands and shiver-

When frost is splitting stone and wall,
And trees come crashing after,
That hates he not, he loves it all,
Then bursts he out in laughter.
His home is by the North Pole's strand,
Where earth and sea are frozen;
His summer-house, we understand,
In Switzerland he's chosen.

Now from the North he's hither hied,
To show his strength and power,
And when he comes we stand aside,
And look at him and cower.

AN honest old Mastiff was lamed by a blow,
Defending his master by robbers laid low;
With nothing to eat and no place to lie down,
He mournfully limped through the streets of a town,
Where by chance he encountered, not from the gate,
A Cat who had met with a similar fate;
His leg had been crushed by the Mayor's fierce cook,
Because from the larder a partridge he took.
'Tis said that misfortune soon makes people known-
They talked of their troubles, each mourning his own;
Till at last, quoth Grimalkin, "We'll go through the
Like faithful companions, and beg, hand in hand."
"No, no!" cried the Mastiff, "that never would do,
We're both of us lamed in like manner, 'tis true,
But still, I don't wish to be taken for you."

WHERE'ER you see a little space,
There plant a little tree;
A good deed should be done whene'er
There's opportunity.

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