Blossoms by the way

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Material Information

Title:
Blossoms by the way a collection of choice poems
Physical Description:
736 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 21 cm.
Language:
English
Creator:
Cooke, Carrie Adelaide ( Editor )
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
Publisher:
D. Lothrop and Company
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publication Date:

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1882   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1882
Genre:
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston

Notes

Statement of Responsibility:
edited by Carrie Adelaide Cooke ; border designs by Sweeney.
General Note:
Text and front matter printed within an elaborate border of plants and printed in colors.
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

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 - 002222324
notis - ALG2561
oclc - 09915966
lccn - 13017869
System ID:
UF00049837:00001

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BLOSSOMS BY THE WAY





A COLLECTION OF CHOICE POEMS





EDITED BY
CARRIE A)ELAIDE COOKE





Border Designs by Sweeney





BOSTON
D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY
32 FRANKLIN STREET







































COPYRIGHT, 1882.

D. LOTIIROP & COMPANY.




















CONTENTS.

In School-days 15
The Christ-cradle 19
A Spinning Song 25
Her own little Room 27
Manners 32
Good-night 34
Right Hand and Left Hand 36
The Doves 41
A Hint from Homer 45
Cuckoo 47
Giotto and his Sheep 49
Questions 56
Big Toe 59
A Lesson in Arithmetic 62
The grown-up Clock .67
Butterflies 69
Baby's Day 73
Summer's Done 77
Revenge 81
Kiss Me, Katie 85
Old Watch to the Moon 88
Chick-a-dee's Breakfast .. 9
v















vi Contents.

On Guard 9
Mid-winter
How Maud kept Watch 112
The Child Raphael ... .
Waking up a Bear I
Motherly Duties 12
How Spring made her Flowers I'
The Earth's little Babies. .. l
The old Man picking his Geese 1.;
Funny Uncle Phil .
Spring Fun .144
The Language of Birds .147
A Spring Outfit :.. .
The Dumb Spinner .
Seeing the World 17
My little Love l
The Wishing-cap 1
Little Mary's Secret .
What Grace is going to do 175
The Lost Dimple 11.
'The old gray Hen I4
A Nosegay I.
A little Sinner .
The Spring and the Well 1:'
In the Swing 1'.
Will-o'-the-Wisp 1 ':
The Children's Harvest .
















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viii Contents.

The three Copecks 290
Suppose 295
Philip, my King 298
Boys Wanted 303
The unfinished Prayer 305
The Minutes 307
A Bird's-eye View 309
Benny 312
Polly 319
Keys 321
Beauty 322
The Try Company 323
Little by Little 325
Little Dandelion .. 327
Catching the Cat 332
The Life Ledger 339
What We find 341
The Secret 342
A Pound, Sir!. .346
An Aim in Life 349
One Thing at a Time .. 350
They didn't think 352
That dropped Stitch 357
The Swiss "Good-night" 362
The Shadows 366
Sunshine and Showers 371
Over the Hill 377







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Contents. ix

The Child-Judge 429
Old and New 438
Little white Lily 440
A Nut to crack 443
A Chrysalis 446
Good Counsel 449
The Bluebell 451
The Sands of Dee 454
The Golden Rule 456
Not always Children 457
The School .461
Now .464
The brown Thrush 467
The gray Swan 469
Larv 474
The four Sunbeams 477
I'll put it off . 481
At the Party 482
Keep to the Right 490
Sowing .. 492
Song of Seven.- Seven Times one 494
.Tennnette and Jo 499
The Children in the Moon 502
Rescued 509
The Tree 513
















x Conllents.

The Crow's Children 515
The little Brother 519
The Lark and the Rook .522
A short Sermon 525
IT \Ve knew 528
I-. dent of the French Camp 530
\ Comforter 533
TI..- motherless Turkeys 539
Il.w they brought the good News 543
'., mn-yard Song 550
Th1, May Queen 555
A.,u Ben Adhem and the Angel 578
Lit le by Little 580
TIn- Pied Piper of Hamelin 581
.An Easter Poem 603
TIh. Life-web 605
Ik,-rnardo del Carpio 606
T'h- broken Toys 613
A little Child's Fancies 617
During or Dreaming . 622
N.rembega 623
TI.- Wreck of the Hesperus. 632
Ti., high Tide 641
TIn- Child and the Gorse 653
Thl Mountain and the Squirrel 656
















Conten/'. '.i

The barefoot Boy .
Little Builders
The discontented Yew-Tree
The Inchcape Rock 71
Discontent 77

A Proverb
What the Sparrow chirps .
"The open Door . . .
What the Choir sang 1
John Maynard ..
John Gilpin 717
The Builders .
Snowflakes






































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BLOSSOMS BY THE WAY.










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BLOSSOMS BY THE WAY.




IN SCHOOL-DAYS.


S TILL sits the school-house by the road,
A ragged beggar sunning;
Around it still the sumachs grow
And blackberry-vines are running.


Within, the master's desk is seen,
Deep scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,
The jack-knife's carved initial;















16 IN SCHOOL-DAYS.

The charcoal frescoes on its wall;

Its door's worn sill, betraying

The feet that, creeping slow to school,

Went storming out to playing !


Long years ago a winter sun
Shone over it at setting;

Lit up its western window-panes,
And low eaves' icy fretting.


It touched the tangled golden curls,
And brown eyes full of grieving,

Of one who still her steps delayed

When all the school were leaving.


For near her stood the little boy

Her childish favor singled;

His cap pulled low upon a face

Where pride and shame were mingled.








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IN SCHOOL-DAYS. 17
Pushing with restless feet. the snow
To right and left, he lingered;
As restlessly her tiny hands
The blue-checked apron fingered.
He saw her lift her eyes; he felt
The soft hand's light caressing,
And heard the tremble of her voice,
As if a fault confessing.
" I'm sorry that I spelt the word:
I hate to go above you,
Because," the brown eyes lower fell, -
"Because, you see, I love you !"
Still memory to a gray-haired man
That sweet child-face is showing.
Dear girl! the grasses on her grave
Have forty years been growing!
I















IN SCHOOL-DAYS.

He lives to learn, in life's hard school,

How few who pass above him

Lament their triumph and his loss,

Like her, -because they love him.

-John G. Whittier.
















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THE CHRIST-CRADLE. 19







THE CHRIST-CRADLE.
I CHRIST-CRADLE IS THO OLD SAXON NAME FOR MINCR-PI'. I

WAS the time of the old Crusaders

"And back with his broken band
The Lord of Lancarvan Castle

Had come from the Holy Land.


He was tired of wars and sieges,

And it sickened his soul to roam

So far from his wife and children,

So long from his English home.


And yet with a noble courage

He loved for the Faith to fight;

For he carried upon his shoulder

The sign of the Red-Cross Knight.















20 THE CHRIST-CRADLE.

It was Christmas Eve in the castle;

The yule-log burnt in the hall;

And helmet and shield and banner

Threw shadows upon the wall;


And the baron was telling stories

To the little ones at his knees,

Of some of the holy places

He had visited over seas.


Then he spake of the watching shepherds

Who saw such marvelous sights,
And the song that the angels chanted

That first of the Christmas nights;


He told of the star whose shining

Outsparkled the brightest gem;

He told of the hallowed cradle

They showed him at Bethlehem.















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THE CHRIST-CRADLE. 21

And the eyes of the children glistened,

To think that a rack sufficed,

With only the straw for blankets,

To cradle the baby Christ.


"Nay, dry up your tears, my darlings!"

Right gaily the baron cried;

For nothing but smiles must greet me -

I'm home and it's Christmas-tide .'


Come, wife I have thought of a cradle

Another than this, I say,

Which thou in thy skill shalt make me,

To honor this Christmas day.


We would not forget the manger;

So choose of thy platters fair

The one that is largest, deepest,

And cover it, in thy care,














22 THE CHRIST-CRADLE.

"With flakes of the richest pastry,
Wrought cunningly by thy hands,

That thus it may bring before us,
The wrap of the swaddling-bands.


"And out of thy well-stored larder

Set forth of thy very best:

Is aught that we have too precious
To honor this Christmas guest?


"Strew meats of the finest shredding,

(The straw was chopped in the stall!)

Bring butter and wine and honey

To lavish around them all.


Let raisins and figs of Smyrna,
That draw to the East our thought,

Let spices that call the Magi,
With their gifts, to mind, be brought.















THE CHRIST-CRADLE. 23

"Let sweets that suggest frankincense,

Let fruits from the Southern sea,

Be given ungrudged : remember,

His choicest he gave for thee !


"Then over the piled-up platter

A cover of pastry draw,

With a star in its midst, to mind us

Of that which the Wise Men saw.


" Christ's Cradle is what we'll call it;

And ever, sweet wife, I pray,

With such thou wilt make us merry

At dinner each Christmas Day "













































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A SPINNING SONG. 25






A SPINNING SONG.
















O VER and over, round and round,
Like a gold-green top on a crystal ground
With never a whizz or a singing sound,
The beautiful earth goes spinning.















26 A SPINNING SONG.


She sweeps in a circle around the sun

With Time, and the year-long race is won

By both to a minute; 'tis ever done

By And ever again beginning.


We clasp our hands in amaze, and cry,

A time to be born, and a time to die,'

Is given to men, but the years go by,

Unending and unbeginning."

But on New Year's morning the people sing

And wail in a breath; and the broad lands ring

With "The King is dead- long live the King,

But the earth goes on with her spinning! "














HER OWN LITTLE ROOM. 27








HER OWN LITTLE ROOM.


H ERE is my own little room;
Fair as a lily in bloom -
That was what mother dear said.
Just see how lovely it looks !
Here are my desk and books,
Here is my own little bed.


This is my sewing-chair;
That is my work-box there,
Everything I shall use;
Thimble, and scissors, and thread,
Stocking-ball, -darning I dread !-
Emery, needles to choose.

















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HER OWN LITTLE ROOM. 29


Soon as I learned to sew,

Mend my own linen, you know,

Take all the care for my own,

Dusting and making my bed,

Mother always has said:

"Sister shall room all alone."



Not that the children may

Not be allowed here to play

Sometimes when they are good;

But when I'm reading, you know,

Romping and shouting they go;

Then I want solitude.



Here I shall often sit,

(Mother can read or knit !)

Resting my book on this shelf.
















30 HER OWN LITTLE ROOM.


Here my birdie will swing

Right overhead, the dear thing,
Singing away to himself.



Pictures ? 0 yes, I forget!

This is S. Margaret, -

None of them costly, but dear!-

This is Aurora, and this -

This is The Playmate's Kiss,

And yesus and Mary here.



Here in the winter time

I shall have ivies to climb;

And my Hermosa rose,

All through the winter in bloom,

How it will brighten my room !

I shall forget that it snows.
















HER OWN LITTLE ROOM. 31


This pretty student-lamp's mine;

I may sit up until nine,

But I shall join mother dear

Till I come up for the night,

So I my candle shall light

Unless she sits with me here.



Sometimes, my friends will come in;

Very soon I shall begin

Asking them duly to come.

Here I mean to receive;"

0, you may laugh, but believe !

For this is my home in my home !
















32 N1ANNLR;.








MANNER

'M often quit,: .-:,rr:. a:b..u. t.

And feel thl- it', r- i l.1. .:l.

But though I lixc I.:n, L:. ,.;ii nli i mr l .- : .

M y manners, I'nm ;ire. A.ill I.,- I._::l


In language I seek f.:r irn[.....':r,:i!t,

And strive to tlic be-r ,! n., i.....r

And yet I am si, II', thl, jIl n-I:.

"0, Jiminy!" tcii tullle, al. I,..ur.


I rush into room uil, iii hla.t .: r :

I hop on one Ic- ilIh .:.i. tl' e li .ill

I slide down the I...iin[cr- miadi.j! .

I roll round the floor in a ball.















MANNERS.


I speak while my elders are speaking;

And, one thing that greatly annoys -

I'm apt in a general fashion,

To treat girls as if they were boys !


But though I'm a boor beyond question,

And want to reform, goodness knows,

There seems to be nothing in manners

As splendid as people suppose:


For sometimes they're worn, I imagine,

To hide what we'd rather not show, -

They're like a fine jacket that covers
A shirt all in tatters below !


Now this is not my case, it's certain,

Although I'm rude, noisy and pert.

The jacket may be very ragged,

But never you fear for the shirt !














34 GOOD-NIGHT!





GOOD-NIGHT!











G OOD-NIGHT, little girl, good-night
It's getting to be so late,
I'm sure you will know it is right
To smile, and accept your fate
Good-night, little girl, don't wait.


Good-night, little girl, good-night!
It's pleasant for you to play,
But the robins have taken flight,















GOOD-NIGHT! 35


And are tucked in their nests away;

Good-night, little girl, don't stay.


Good-night, little girl! sweet rest

Is needful as air and light,

And the sun that sleeps in the west,

To-morrow will look so bright, -

Just think, little girl good-night !

Little girl, good-night!


















36 Ri. I-l HXND \NI' LEr IHMAND.









RIGHT HAND AND LEFT HAND.


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RIGHT HAND AND LEFT HAND. 37


Pours the sparkling water

From the brimming urn,

Washes lazy little Left Hand,

And bids him take his turn.


Now he grasps a tooth-brush,

Scours Robbie's pearls;

Next he smooths the meshes

Of his shining curls;

Fastens sleeves and collar
Round the waistband glides;

While the lazy Left Hand

In a pocket hides.


Next the shoes and stockings

To a chair he brings,

Asks his sleepy brother

To help him tie the strings.
















38 RIGHT HAND AND LEFT HAND.


Goes with Rob to breakfast;

Takes his books to school;

Finds his slate and pencil,

Rubber, sponge and rule.


"If you had the choosing

Which one would you take?

Well I know your answer

Little "Wide Awake:"

Not the helpless Left One,

Selfish, slow and shy,

But the busy Right One,

Active, willing, spry.























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THE DOVES. 41








THE DOVES.

P RETTY doves, so blithely ranging
Up and down the street

Glossy throats all bright hues .h ll. ii
Little scarlet feet!


Pretty doves among the daisies
They should coo and flit!
All these toilsome, noisy places
Seem for them unfit.


Yet amidst our human plodding,
They must love to be;
With their little heads a-nodding,
Busier than we.


















42 THE rOV ES.



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A HINT FROM HOMER.- 45






A HINT FROM HOMER.*

SLET the sun stand still this lonesome day,

And hardly heard the very baby coo,

(Meanwhile the earth went on the other way )

That I might watch the siege of Troy with you.


The great Achilles (whom we know) was there-

His shining shield was what we guessed him by;

And Hector with his plume of horse's hair

Frightened his child and 1 Lull1 to hear it cry.


Poor Hector Never sorrow for the dead,

In these three thousand rather piteous years,

Stole into sweeter words than Helen said

Beside him through the dropping of her tears.
*"Stories from Homer," by Rev. Alfred J. Church.
















46 A HINT FROM HOMER.


We grieved with Priam for his gracious son.

Much -indprll- In T U1 ,-:U ith hi; cr:ft

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A.-.,id. Grn i.J k nicer, (, rcek ...r Tr-.ia '.nly lok '

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CUCKOO !



"" DO have done, and give your voice a rest !"
Thus to the Cuckoo spoke the Honeybee.

S' Vu'd better far be building your own nest,

I li.a calling up and down from tree to tree,

St'u.:koo! Cuckoo i and nothing but 'Cuckoo !'

Ihc, song is tiresome, if you only knew."


"" .M:rry, my plodding cousin i were I you

I ,.,:.uld not such a foolish speech have made;

\\ ti your eternal hexagons -' Cuckoo '-

.\!,I honey of precisely the same shade,
.'! I humming monotone,- fiddle-a-dee !

















48 CUCKOO!


"My dear," the bee replied, "too busy I

To chatter with you, or to make excuse;

It is no fault to lack variety

In things of real worth, or real use

But things for mere amusement are a bore

If you must hear them o'er, and o'er, and o'er."















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GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEP. 49













GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEP.


L ONG, O, long ago -(the date is
Up in the twelve hundred eighties)-

Through the Tuscan meadows dewy,
Walked the painter, Cimabue.

Full of fancies sweet and holy,

On and on he rambled slowly,
Till he saw the pastures spotted
White with sheep, like daisies dotted

On the grass, and, close behind them

Just one little lad to mind them.
Still he seemed, as stock of mullein;
















50 GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEP.


But he was not sad or sullen,

Though he had no comrades near him, ;
Save his friends, the sheep, to cheer him.


Round and round the flock came trooping,

But the boy sat quiet, stooping

On a broad, flat stone before him,

With the sunshine flooded o'er him.


Stepping from the grass so dewy,

O'er his shoulder, Cimebu

Leaned and watched with silent wonder

As he saw, clear outlined under

The small fingers, grimly blackened

With a coal that had not slackened

In its working, portrait traces

Of his friends, the woolly faces,


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.,- GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEA. 53


Little shepherd, who are you, eh ?

'' Tell me: lam Cimabue."


Up the boy sprang, startled: "Not, O,

-- ,. Not the painter ?-I am Giotto! "

-o. ---" "Yes -the painter! Let me take you

SHome with me, my boy, and make you

.Such an artist as I never

Could be, should I draw forever "


-"''' So to Florence in its beauty

>' Came the boy ; and, true to duty,

Wrought and studied, harder, faster,
"Till he grew the greatest master

Of his time (though Arts were scanty

We must own). He painted Dante;

And he built his genius' flower -

"* Pronounced Yotto.



/. 7 ''















54 GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEP.


Built the marvellous Bell-Tower,

Graceful as a Tuscan lily,

Which they call the Campanilb.


Sometimes now when youth and maiden

Go to Florence, guide-book laden,

Ignorant as lambs, and knowing

Neither why nor where they're going-

Asking, as they idly glower

Up at Giotto's grand Bell-Tower,

Who he was that (such a pity !)

Built a light-house in the city--

At the dolls we feel abhorrence;

What have they to do in Florence ?


Little Wide Awakes! if ever

You are there, I'm sure you'll never

(Be your Art-love stronger, fainter)















GIOTTO AND HIS SHEEP. 55


Quite forget the shepherd-painter.

You will think upon his story,

You will go to Del Fiore,

And the guide will show the grotto

There in which they buried Giotto.



















\.v















56 QUESTIONS.









QUESTIONS.


D O you think the moon is lonely,
Little one,

When she hangs, a crescent dim,

O'er the waters' farthest rim,
*Ere the evening stars alight

In the sombre sky of night,-

Do you think the moon is lonely,

Little one ?


"D"' t ) you think the moon is happy,
Little one,

SWhen she hangs, serene and high,
'n the great star-crowded sky,








-I' .















QUESTIONS. 57


And her smile breaks o'er the sea

Reaching to her joyfully, -

Do you think the moon is happy,

Little one?


Do you think the moon is weary,

Little one,

When the night-clouds shrink away

From the fast-approaching day,

S And of all the shining race,

She alone has kept her.place, -

Do you think the moon is weary,

Little one?


Ah, we give the moon her seeming,

Little one!

Lonely, happy, weary, she

Takes her look from you and me.
















8 QUESTIONS.


In her sad or cheerful mien

Just our spirits' hue is seen, -

Ah, we give the moon her seeming,

Little one!














BIG TOE. 59








BIG TOE.

"D O you know old Big Toe ?
"He's the head of the row,

So it's his place to show
Every fat, smaller toe
How to be good and grave,
And just how to behave.


But this naughty Big Toe,
I must say, doesn't do so;
He is wilful and bold,
Doesn't stay where he's told;
Just as papa's pigs do,
He tries to get out, too.















60 BIG TOE.


One day company came,
And think what a shame!
This same naughty Big Toe




': "' "s ^ "^ c / "
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Not keeping, you know,
In nice shoe and stocking,
Crept out- O, how shocking!-


And put his head through

A window in the shoe,















BIG TOE.
o-I

,. As saucy as could be !

Everybody could see,

And poor mamma was so

,'.Mortified at Big Toe !


But I'll tell you what then;-

"You sha'n't do so again,"

"She said to bad Big Toe.

'" She went right and bought, 0 !

Such stout copper toes !

If he gets out of those,


That shut him in, tight

And snug, out of sight

With the other toes small,

The right place for them all,

I am sure I don't know

What she'll do with Big Toe !















62 A LESSON IN ARITHMETIC.








A LESSON IN ARITHMETIC.

F OUR robin redbreasts on the old apple tree,
Whose pink and white blossoms are as thick as
can be -
If two of those birdies should quick fly away,
How many redbreasts would be left ? tell me, pray.
(ANSWER.)
Only two would be left,but they would not stay,
For they never will I have watched them to-day.


Tom's six frisky kittens are chasing their tails,
As the milkmaid passes with o'erflowing pails -
If two of the kittens remain at their play
Then how many have followed the milkmaid; say?















A LESSON IN ARITHMETIC. 63


(ANSWER.)

Four dear little kittens have followed the maid,

And the others will follow, if they're not afraid.


Eight fleecy white lambkins yonder are seen

Just over the brook, in the pasture green-

If eight of them leap over the low stone wall,

Then, how many lambkins do not jump at all ?

(ANSWER.)

Were they Bo-Peep's lambkins, mamma ? 0, I know,

If one lamb leaped the wall, all the rest would go.


If out of the water and dark mud below,

Rise ten water lilies as white as the snow,

And five laddies row out to gather the ten,

How many apiece have the brave little men ?

(ANSWER.)
They would have two apiece if Tom had his way,

But Archie'd have more he's so mean, Archie Gray















64 A LESSON IN ARITHMETIC.


Suppose I am forty and you are but five,

In ten sunny years-if we still keep alive-

Winter and summer, in all sorts of weather,-

Pray how many years can we count together ?

(ANSWER, counting slowly.)

Why you would be f-f-fifty and I'd be f-ifteen.

There'd be ever so many years between.

Count them together ? Mamma, wait till I grow!

Then, then I could count them so easy, you know.

Would I then wear long dresses and you a white
cap ?

And couldn't I sit any more on your lap ?
0- 0 dear!

























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THE GROWN-UP CLOCK. 67







THE GROWN-UP CLOCK.


O dear me, what a fuss Tick, tock tick, tock!
Pray, what are you talking about, old clock,
All the day long? why, I really don't think
"You stop long enough to sleep a wink,


For once in the night when I was awake -

S'pose I was sick 'cause I ate the plum-cake, -
I heard you in the hall, tick, tock tick, tock !
0, did you have a pain, old clock, old clock ?


r' Tick, tock You're a grown-up clock, I know,
"If you weren't you wouldn't keep talking so;
For somebody'd say, at just the first word,
Little folks, Bob, should be seen and not heard."
















68 THE GROWN-UP CLOCK.


You are dreadful stuck up, I think, and tall;

And you don't like nice little boys at all ;

For when eight o'clock comes you just raise Ned,"

So Jane will hear it and put me to bed.


Dear me I wish you would lose your tongue,

Just as I used to do when I was young,

And company came and spoke to me, -

(Of course you would tell when 'twas time for tea).


S'pose the little clock mamima bought last spring,

And grandpa called a new-fangled thing,

Is your child ; and the reason he doesn't go.

Is 'cause you've scolded him for chattering so.









*' '. .1 1









*. '' ''' \~^















BUTTERFLIES. 69











BUTTERFLIES.

WO golden butterflies, hither, thither flying,

Zig-zag and round about, every blossom trying;

Flitting now together, now awhile they sever;

Pretty golden butterflies, will you play forever ?


My little Goldenhair, almost like a fairy,

Rivals the butterflies in their flittings airy

All their flying follows, through the nodding daisies,

Still cannot catch them in their pretty mazes.


Dear Golden-butterfly, through the meadow dancing,

With your flying tangled curls in the sunshine glancing,
















70 BUTTERFLIES.


Keep time with the butterflies, gold-winged, moving

ever, -

Play on, all three dearies Your now is forever.


Lirtle Inr-.,v thh bir.ertlies of w\hlt comes to-morrow,

LiLrle I.'.:. -s m y I-;rr-,ill, ,:, t :a tli.ught of sorrow.

(...-i siee i, ii i.:hi ci ,il l.'.- d lihas its time of daisies

And :ot ..ld:cn !butterrthl- ini rilhc pretty mazes.


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BABYIS DAY.


















BABY'S DAY. 73









BABY'S DAY.

T HE reason I call it Baby's Day" is funny

enough to tell;

The first thing she did was give syrup of squills to

dolly tn make her well ;

.nrl thd en v.leri I ci ,-l icr li..i\ 'ir>-ng it was, she said,

i.[h a qui- ri i.,

I'm .i:.rr-, I mnadl her .. -tickh munmina, but I

Louldri't let doll. (ill.


iThen cinomtrter.l ..hlll, h lhe ..ent v...:-. and was just

a, .-till :1, a a -.:.ic.

.nd 1 ih.jug.lt to be -urc i *.,-ii-uld finrd her at once in

the nursery pla,,ing h.:u-se "
















74 BABY'S DAY.


But, lo on the way as I started to look, a queer little

piece I found,

Just like a centre of snowy lawn that the scissors

had scalloped round.


I cried O, baby! what have you done ? You have

been to somebody's drawer,

And taken from out of the handkerchief pile the

most beautiful one that you saw "

And then the dear little head went down pathetic as

it could be,

While she sobbed, There was nothing for me to cut,

and I thought I'd take two or three "


It was only a little later on, that the water began -to

splash,

And I jumped and found she was rubbing away on

her sister's holiday sash
















BABY'S DAY. 75


But, catching a look of utter dismay, as she lifted her

innocent eyes,

She whispered: Don't worry, I'll wash it all clean,

and hang it up till it dries."


But the funny mishaps of that wonderful day I could

not begin to relate;

The boxes of buttons and pins she spilled, like a

cherub pursued by fate !

And still, all the while, the dear little dove was flut-

tering 'round her nest,

And the only thing I really could do was to smooth

out her wings on my breast.


Hut the day drifted on till it came to an end, and the

great moon rose in sight,

And the dear soft lids o'er the dear soft eyes dropped

tenderly their good night.


















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A nd i thlu. ht, .1 1 ...-k d ..', her Iym..n :a leep, I

A a3 I .ir oL-I4 i -- iei n 1. I

I i.lt Ill\ n Lo 'utiil ilkl .at L. I i. 111 .t enough tor .r














SUMMER'S DONE. 77





SUMMER'S DONE.



NI"















T HINNER the leaves of the larches show,

Motionless held in the languid air;

Fainter by waysides the sweet-briers grow,

Wide bloom laying their gold hearts bare,

Languishing one by one :

Summer is almost done.















73 SUMMER'S DONE.


Deeper hued roses have long since died;
Silent the birds through the white mist fly;

Down of the thistles, by hot suns dried,

Covers with pale fleece vines growing nigh;

Little brooks calmer run:

Summer is almost done.


Later the flush of the sunrise sweeps,

Shortening the reign of the slow-coming day;

Earlier shade of the twilight creeps

Over the swallows skimming away;

Crickets their notes have begun:

Summer is almost done.


Darkened to mourning the sad-colored beech;

Empty the nests in its purple boughs lie

Something elusive we never can reach

Deepens the glory of days going by;















SUMMER'S DONE. 79


Aftermath lies in the sun:

Summer is almost done.


























Child why regret that the summer must go ?

Sweet lies the aftermath left in the sun;
Sweet lies thle aftermata left in tt~e sun ;















80 SUMMER'S DONE.


Lives that are earnest more beautiful grow

Out of a childhood in beauty begun:

Harvests of gold can be won

Only when summer is done.
















REVENGE. 8








REVENGE.

SHREE bugs come out of Lathland,

One has a twisted nose,

One is blind in his left eye,

And the other is lame in his toes.


They creep through a crack in the plaster,

They slide down a papered wall,

And scamper across the carpet,

And climb a bedstead tall,


And, resting on the headboard,

Their slippery balance keep,

While they peer into the faces

Of a family asleep.
















82 REVENGE.


"I'll not bite the man," says Crooknose,

'Twas he made my nose so sore."

"I'll not bite the woman," says Lametoe,

She left me for dead before."


"Let's bite the baby to pay them "

So they tumble down, all three,

And set their scarlet monogram,

On baby's forehead, neck and knee.


A light! A sudden tumult!

A hopeless scattering then;

And the bugs who bit the baby

Will never bite again !



















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KISS ME, KATIE! 85








KISS ME, KATIE!

K ATIE, Katie, little Katie !
Mouth of rose and eyes of blue-

(Eyes that look one frankly through !)
When I'm absent don't you miss me ?
Now I'm near you, come and kiss me!
Katie, little Katie, kiss me!
Katie, do !


Katie, Katie, pretty Katie!
Prettier far than Jane or Lu,
Madge or Margaret, Maud or Prue;
Graceful as some spring-born fairy,
Tuneful as your pet Canary -
















86 KISS ME, KATIE !


Katie, pretty Katie, kiss me I

Katie, do !


Katie, sly, deceptive Katie !

If you fly me I'll pursue.

(What though corns or gout should rue ?

Then, if I can overmatch you,

Running fast can clasp and catch :,:u.

Captured K.t-Lu, n't )ou kiss me ?

Katie, do!


Katie, mute, day-dr,::minc Katie.

It I t ll .,<-ur thou-[Ihris to: y,'ou,

Guesi- ',,,ur ir.a irr. and liiakl tlern true,

don't t \*:u cease \..ur :co, dr.tiance,

Vanquished by such wondrou' science-

Won't \ou kiss me, Katie darling ?

Katie, do!
















KISS ME, KATIE! 87


Katie, captious little Katie !

Why that quickly tapping shoe,

Ready shrug, and scornful mou' ?
Can it be you mean to scout me ?

Just because I'm grayish, flout me ?

Are you muttering Kiss HIM NEVER

'No, I can't / and no, I won't 7"

0, you petulant, changeful Katie I

Katie, don't






1'
















88 OLD WATCH TO THE MOON.








OLD WATCH TO THE MOON.

Bow, wow, wow!

Out to their posts the stars come now,

And we must begin the Moon and I -

Our still night watch; she in the silver sky,

While down low in the dewy grass I lie.


Bow, wow, wow!

Within the dark house the dear ones sleep now-

And close I sit all through the silent night

With my heart as full as the Moon's of light -

They trust old Watch and sleep, and they do right.


Bow, wow, wow!

O, Moon so near to heaven, 0, you
















































































































































































































































































































































































































































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OLD WATCH TO THE MOON. 91


Must know I have no words to speak my pain -

But, tell me, Moon, are faith and love in vain ?

Will there not come a time when all is plain ?


Bow, wow, wow

I hear the dear ones till E soft and low

Of some fair land where they journey soon,

Where all shall gain some longed-for boon -

And shall I not be with them there, 0 Moon ?


Bow, wow, wow!

I -1 11! tell them there that I loved them so -

What if I did wrong in the Old-Time Land,

Where they used to blame me with word and hand ?

It was only I could not understand.















92 CHICK-A-DEE'S BREAKFAST.









CHICK-A-DEE'S BREAKFAST.

C HICK-A-DEE came to the window,

But where could his breakfast be ?

It had always been there, enough and to spare,

And prompt as the morn was he ;
But now the cold ice covered the sill,
And where could his breakfast be ?

Chick-a-dee, wise little fellow,
All in his black and white,

Danced round in the storm to keep himself warm,

Scolding with .all his might:

" 0, you people," said he. have forgotten me,
In the space of one winter night! "
















CHICK-A-DEE'S BREAKFAST. 93


Chick-a-dee wanted his breakfast,

And looked for it sharp as could be ;

Through the thin, clear, sheet-like glass at his feet,

The crumbs he could plainly see -

He turned in a trice and sat down on the ice.

As still as a bird could be,


With his tail on the glass of the window,

Spread out in the funniest way,

"Till his warm little feathery body

Had melted the ice away.

Then, thanking himself for his breakfast.

He ate it and bade good-day.





















4
















94 ON GUARD.








ON GUARD.
Adapted From The German.

" IS the father at home ?" In the field is he."

Is the mother within? " In the field is she."


" Ah, well, little Hans, I'll go in and sit down."

But the way is locked and barred with a frown.


" Not so, Mrs. Woman, I'm the Watch at the door;

No one goes through while I sit before !"


And then the Watch adds, with a wee wink droll:

" If I let you in you must first pay toll."


" ho indeed Is it thus the wind blows ?

How much ?" and she tweaks the Watchman's nose.



















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