Front Cover
 Title Page
 What baby is like
 What baby is like
 Two mammas
 Down by the garden wall
 Two kittys
 My lover
 Say please
 The butterfly
 Two years old
 The old clock
 Too sure
 What's in the basket?
 When the winds are blowing
 The chimney bird
 Where is Milly?
 Bed time
 Back Cover

Title: Bonny bairns
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055779/00001
 Material Information
Title: Bonny bairns
Physical Description: 48 p. : col. ill. ; 27 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Blanchard, Amy Ella, 1856-1926
Waugh, Ida, d. 1919 ( Illustrator )
Worthington Company ( Publisher )
Cosack & Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: Worthington Co.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1888
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1888   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1888
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: illustrations by Ida Waugh ; verses by Amy Ella Blanchard.
General Note: "Cosack & Co."--cover.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00055779
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 - 002222848
notis - ALG3094
oclc - 09087001

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
    What baby is like
        Page 4
        Page 5-6
    What baby is like
        Page 7
    Two mammas
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
    Down by the garden wall
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Two kittys
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
    My lover
        Page 18
        Page 19
    Say please
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The butterfly
        Page 24
        Page 25
    Two years old
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    The old clock
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
    Too sure
        Page 34
        Page 35
    What's in the basket?
        Page 36
    When the winds are blowing
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The chimney bird
        Page 42
        Page 43
    Where is Milly?
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    Bed time
        Page 48
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text
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OR all bonny bairns, little boys, little girls,
With blue eyes or brown eyes, with tangles or curls,
Here are pictures and stories, whatever your mood,
To help you all smile, and to make you all good;
To put you to sleep; to, make you forget
Your pain when you're sick, your frowns when you fret.
The children you'll find here, all did as you do,
And hope you will love them, for they all love you.

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ABY grows like a flower, Baby shines as a star does,
Baby is fresh as a rose, Gold gleams his darling head,
Daintily hued as the blossoms, White pillow clouds around him,
As the fragrant apple blows. Where he peeps out of bed.
Baby is sweet a song is, Baby is dear as-, baby

The song of a twilight bird. Nothing so dear can be,
He's bright as the lark's gay trilling, In all the wide world's wonder,
S That early dawn has stirred. As this little baby to me.



f Y\ mamma is buful."
Mine is bufuller.
No one ever, ever saw
Any one like her."

MyN mamma is sweetest."
Mine is sweetest, too."
My mamma has brown eyes."
yv mamma has blue."

My mamma loves me most."
"My mamma loves me."
SMine calls me her lovey-dove."
"Mine says 'Birdie wee.'"

"My mamma is bestest."
"Mine is goodest best."
"Well, she is my own mamma,
That's worth all the rest."


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HAT, tears! my little one, how's this?
l Come, climb up in my lap, and tell me all about it.
You will not love me ? Will not kiss ?
It isn't a nice world? Why, Dear, what makes you doubt it?
First, then, your little cunning kit,
That you believed was always good, and soft, and furry,
Showed claws, scratched you, and fought, and bit,
And all because you were in such a hurry,
You could not wait for her to eat,
But picked her up before her meal was over.
"She ought to love you more-than meat."
Well, so she ought, but then a cat's not a good lover.
And then, the fairy tale Ned told,
It was so beautiful; you wanted it forever.
Next day he said you were too old
To think such nonsense could be true; that there were never
Fairies, or brownies, or such stuff.
And now you never can again believe it,
As though your cat's claws weren't enough.
"This horrid world why do not people it.
Why Dear, my little brown-eyed Dear,
I, great big I, am in just such a trouble.
Don't cry; why I have not one tear,
And tears, maybe, will make us see things double.
My kitten would not love me best,
And when I stroked its fur the wrong way, showed its claws too.
My fairy tale, it was confessed,
No truer, Dear, than yours, and yet I thought it was true.
Now you love me, and I'll love you,
And tell you all about a really, truly fairy-
About a little girl I knew,
Whose name was just the same as-guess-as yours? Yes, Mary.


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Down by the garden wall,
OWN by the garden wall,
1ON e a Some one came running,
There grew a flower,
Not near so tall
And it grew so tall
As the flow'r a sunning
That the sun, he kissed it, the sun,
Itself in the sun,
The breeze tried to twist it,
But no bud begun
The birds would insist it
Was so sweet a one
Was no flower at all. e
As this one so small.

Down by the garden wall, Who, by the garden wall,
The bees and birds flew, Reached up to the flower
And butterflies, all On tiptoe; so small
Seeing the flower too, That o'er her would tower
One said 'twas a pitty, The blossom, so pink.
Another 'twas pretty, Said some one, "I think
The birds said "Twit-twit tee, You must need a drink,
'Twill most surely fall." Sweet flower." They call

You a weed by the wall,
But better I know you,
You're no weed at all.
To mamma I will show you,
She'll put you a vase in,
Or fine China basin,
Some lovely cool place in.
Then come, flower tall.



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1 HAT a big pussy-cat,
Lapping up the milk,
Does it say Mew, Mew,
As other kits do ?
Has it fur soft as silk ?
And furry paws to pat ?

What does Miss Milly think
To see her milk gone?
Shall we say Scat! Scat!
To this great big cat ?
Shall we give it a bone
Instead of milk to drink?

You're not a really cat ?
So I see, my dear,
With your curly pate,
And your name's Kit-Kate?
I thought 'twas very queer,
That cats grew big as that.

Don't be a kitty-cat,
My little Kit-Kate,
Else, may be, you know,
Your whiskers might grow.
Upon my word, I'd hate
To hear you say Pstiss! Spat!


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WO little girls were out at play,
The day was bright and sunny,
Each saw the other one, and laughed,
They must have thought it funny.

"Your hoop is very small," said Grace.
"And yours is big," said Gussy.
Grace said, "Suppose I change with you,
I'm not the least bit fussy."

And then both of them laughed again,
Right in each other's faces,
And Grace took Gussie's hoop to roll,
So Gussy trundled Grace's.

They ran and laughed, and laughed and ran,
Their hoops went over, under;
And when they said Goodbye" they laughed,
At what, I really wonder.




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AVE I a lover? I can't say no, He loves me dearly, and I'm sure
For some one always tells me so. His love is warm, and strong and pure;
And I let'him ? Of course, you see In all the world he loves me best,
It does no harm to him or me. Thinks I'm the sweetest, prettiest.

Do we quarrel? Why, how you ask He says he'll have no wife but me;
Me questions. Take me quite to task. Wherever I am he must be;
We quarrel? Yes, we sometimes do; My steps he guards with loving care,
But then, we kiss and make up, too. When we go walking anywhere.

What does he look like? Is he tall ? You think I'm proud of him, you say.
Blue eyes or brown? mouth large orsmall? Such are not found, dear, every day.
His eyes are large and soft and grey, I only hope when you are grown,
And he is quite tall, so they say. You'll have as true love for your own.

When will we marry? I must smile,
You look so gravely all the while;
I'm old enough to be his mother,
Why, dear, he is your baby brother.




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O not a bit of breakfast,
For chickens big or small; ," "
Until you ask politely, "
No single grain shall fall.
So, say Please, if you please,
Any way you want to,
With a cluck, cluck; peep, peep;
Or cock-a-doodle-doo;
With a caw-caw; quack, quack;
Say any one of these;
I am not particular.
If it only means please.

Mr. Rooster, Mrs. Hen,
Set a good example,
Show the other ones the way
With a little sample
Of your Please, if you please,
Any way you choose to,
Crow or cluck, peep or caw,
Else I must refuse you;
Breakfast will be dinner,
Unless you all make haste;
And your dinner will be supper,
Before you' get a taste."

Then up spoke Mr. Rooster,
And crowed his very best;
Cluck, cluck," said Mrs. Hen, and then
Soon followed all the rest.
It was "Caw Caw! Cock-a-doo!"
In voices high and deep,
The big ones crowed and cawed, '
The little ones cried "Peep,"
But everything meant Please,
We want our breakfast, please,"
Till Nellie said "I never knew
Of chicks polite as these."




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UMPITY! jumpity! jump!
My little sugar lump
Has kicked off his shoe,
And one stocking, too-
Such a baby to jump!

Trotity! trotity! trot!
Curly haired little tot
Must have some fresh air,
'Neath trees green and fair,
Before the sun is too hot.

Rockity! rockity! rock!
Baby-boy in a white frock,
All over the floor,
Like ships from the shore,
Baby and I will rock.

Niddy-nid! niddy-nid! noddy!
Such a sweet little body,
Now curl in my lap,
And take a good nap,
Off to the land of noddy.


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S /ON'T be afraid you butterfly,
Please stay till mamma first sees you,
You can go home by and bye,
Take a little nap first, please do.

I love you, dear butterfly,
And I wish that I could kiss you,
But I'm 'fraid almost to try.
If you fly, mamma will miss you.

Please be good till we get home,
Then I'll give some candy to you
If mamma will give me some.
You don't want to fly now, do you?"


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SHAT shall we give to our baby? What shall we bring to our baby,
She is two years.old to-day, Who has learned to be so wise?
She has learned to sing and prattle, Roses, pink as her cheeks are;
To walk, to run, and to play; Blue ribbons to match her eyes;
To kiss "good-night and "good-morning," A pin to fasten her frock with,
To wave her hand to papa; Set round with tiny pearls,
To look for the stars in heaven, No whiter than her teeth are,
And the moon, the stars' mamma." The gold like her burnished curls.

A book all full of pictures-
For she is a picture too,
With stories of dear little babies
Who have done as she will do;
And last of all, a dolly
Without a blemish or flaw,
As nearly as possible like her
As she is like her mamma.


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SUNSHINE of golden floods all the earth over,
Gold in the heart of the rose,
Bouiltiful blooms all the garden walls cover.
Gold on the buttercup shows,
Wealth on the swaying grass. What can be kinder,
Than blossoms all day to the bee?
Riches, and wealth, and fair gold for the finder,
But never a little for me.

Ev'rywhere children cling close to their mother,
Stars have their moon up above.
"Kiss mc good-night," whispers sister and brother,
"Good-night," hispers dear mother-love.
Mother-bird folds her wings over, to cover
Little birds up in the tree,
Love it is-love-and sweet love the world over,
But never a little to me.

Rest for the bird, in her nest in the willow,
Rest for the butterfly's wings,
So many tired heads find a heart-pillow,
So many sweet, restful things.
Fair little islands, all silent and lonely,
Rest in the arms of the sea,
I am so tired-why should it be only
That never comes rest unto me?



.TO-MORROW! to-morrow! when will it be here?

She said, "When both hands on the clock point again
To twelve, why to-morrow will come to us then."

This provoking old clock will not hurry a bit,
I cannot see what is the matter with it,
Perhaps 'tis so old that it has to go slow,
Forgets about Christmas, or else does not know.

I wonder if I were to help it along-
Poor old thing-if any one could think it wrong,
I know it will thank me for one little touch,
It must be so tired of ticking so much.

I think'I must do it, if Santa Claus came
A little bit early, it would be a shame
To find no one ready; he might go away,
And never come back again, next Christmas Day.


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0oo SUNIE.

-[ LITTLE white Daisy grew by the road, Somebody might like me," Daisy replied,
And it was September weather, I do not mean any harm, sir,
Near by in the grass, some Golden-rod showed, I wanted to grow, and tried, and tried,
With Asters clustered together. Quite early, when it was warm, sir."

" Dear me, just see," the Golden-rod said, No matter," said Aster, leave her alone,
I do not think I remember, She'll soon find herself mistaken,
A saucy Daisy to poke up its head, Somebody will gather us every one,
Among us, blooms of September." And leave her there all forsaken."

" The impudent thing, her time is gone," So the Asters flaunted, and Golden-rod
Remarked a yellow-eyed Aster, Turned its back on the Daisy,
" I should think she would feel she is all alone," And never so much as gave her a nod,
And a haughty look she cast her. And whispered, She must be crazy."

" Don't you know," said Golden-rod, Daisy white, But at last a maiden came one day,
You should not be seen this season, Down by the proud, purple Aster,
Your time is in May and June. What right Down by the Golden-rod nodding away,
Have you here ? Just give us your reason." And every heart beat faster.

But behold she passed them carelessly by,
Saw only the Daisy blossom.
"You dear little thing!" they heard her cry,
And she put it in her bosom.



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'H? I wonder, I won

j Something peeps out like the silk of corn,
Silky and wavy; a straw hat under,
Why, now it moves, as sure as I'm born.

What's in the basket ? A chicken ? A bunny ?
No, two blue eyes look over the side,
Red lips are laughing, head looks so funny,
There The something is trying to hide.

What's in the basket? why, who would have thought it ?
My little baby, with flaxen hair,
Hid in the basket, and home papa brought it,
High on his shoulder. Well! Well! I declare.

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rOSES te'., and rses i ,.h .
Roses all a-erowiine
Nc.dding tomv my Lab bright.
\\hen the n inds are blowing

Little ships uLorn the ea, "'.
Going, coming, coming,
One will sail to \.:.u and me,. i
When the winds arc blowing.

Little stars up in the sky, '
Golden twinkles showing '
Clouds n-ill hide them b. and by,
When the mindsd s are blowing.

Little ripples or, the shore,
Inn ardl e1 eIr Ilowing.
The, nill change to wates that roar
kWhen the winds are blowing.

Little bal.y on my breast. "t
Sorrw..w all unrcnowing.
May God alas guard thy rest.
\When the winds are blowing.

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Each to its nesty home,
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The light is growing fainter,
Come, little Cecil, come.
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Sister Alice has it here,

Then rock you, baby dear;

Sing about all kinds of things,
'Tis time to have your supper,

OfHE little boards a-saire flying
Each to its nesty w ome,

TheOf light is growdancing fainter,

ComAnd then when little Cecil, come.
Sister Alice has it here,
She will feed you, little brother,
Then rock you, baby dear;
She will sing till you are sleepy,
Sing about all kinds of things,
Little boys, and cows, and horses,
And birdies with swift wings;
Of little boats a-sailing
Upon the great wide sea;
Of little dancing fairies,
As tiny as can be;
And then when little Cecil
'*"'r*l'(,' r' ^Has drooped his curly head,

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S, ^'^ ~ She will put him in his bed.


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ANCE shadows, dance to us, bow to us so;
Come as we come to you; go when we go;
Grow big and little; grow short and grow tall;
You shadows that live on the side of the wall.

Fly shadows, fly from us; fast as we run,
You cannot go from us while there is sun;
Bob up and down again; fall when we fall;
You shadows that live on the side of the wall.

Hide shadows, hide from us; sun's in a cloud,
You will not play then, you're growing too proud.
Ah! there you come out, first one, and then all;
You shadows that live on the side of the wall.

Play shadows, play with us, just as we say,
Mock if you will, you cannot run away,
We are quite sure you will come when we call;
You shadows that live on the side of the wall.

Shadows, good-bye to you, we'll come again,
To-morrow, perhaps, if it does not rain,
There is no finding you, when rain-drops fall;
You shadows that live on the side of the wall.



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ITTLE flying chimney bird,
Do you live with soot and smoke?

You have queer taste, on my word,

Little, flying chimney bird,

Syou live witblack-cappe d chimney bird, smoke
I sh would think wouldd spoil your wings,
blind your eyes, and make you choke.

They are not so nicely dressed;
Bou have queer taste, on my word,
Little black-capped chimney bird.

Little brightlack-capped chimney bird,

Were I you, I'd take a tree,
LikeWhat a place to build a nest. do;

Don't you look so pert at me,
They are not so nicely dressed;

But as ifor you, it is absurd,
Little black-capped chimney bird.
Little bright-eyed chimney bird,
Were I you, I'd take a tree,
Like the other birdies do;
Don't you look so pert at me,
Just as if you hadn't heard, -
Little, saucy chimney bird.

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., the golden weather,

Em'rald green upon the hills,
Deep green in the hollow;

Overhead a bird sings out,
Follow! Follow! Follow!

Butterflies, the wild rose hedge
Daintily dip over,
Yellow banded honey bees
Cling about the clover.
Flying birds and butterflies,-
But where has flown my Milly?
OSE-time and daisy-time,
1 \ Both have come together.

thTell me, little bright-eyed birdn songs,

That sings Tu whilly-whilly!"
0, the golden weathe wild rose hedge,

And bids me "Follow Follow "
Em'rald green upon flies from the apple-tree,
DeepTu-whilly! towards the hollow;
Overhead a, you birds, which one is righout,

If I may find my Milly,
Foll I dowllow! Fthe hollow go,
Butterflies, the wild rose hedgeilly?

But Yellowbanded hollow first I went,
And ling ab out t he clover.

Perched in a tree, with eglantine
Flypspring birds all around heries,-
But where has flown my Milly?

Tell me, little bird, she sang so sweet,bird
That sings "Tu whilly-whilly! "

One sings fr the blossomild rose hedge,
And bids me Follow Follow !"
One flies from the apple-tree,
Tu-whilly! towards the hollow;
0, you birds, which one is right?
If I may find my Milly,

Shall I down tled he hollow go,
Or up the meadow hilly?

But down the hollow first I went,
And like a bird I found her,
Perched in a tree, with eglantine
Upspringing all around her.
And like a bird, she sang so sweet,
I think the blossoms missed her,
When I had led her home again,
And held her close, and kissed her.


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NOW! Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow!
On the ground, and in the air, What a lot of boys and girls,
Over children. Do they care? Sparkling eyes, and dancing curls,
Do they mind it ? Not a bit, First one, then another flies
They are very glad of it. Down the hill, and each one cries
How they laugh, and roll, and shout, That his sled can beat them all.
Snow-balls flying all about. Take care, little ones, don't fall.
Oh! Oh! Oh! Such a show,
Snow! Snow! Snow! And snow! Snow!

Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow!
Sleigh-bells jingle, "Boy behind !" Somewhere underneath it all,
Driver laughing, he'll not mind Through the winter, through the fall,
If the boys do steal a ride. Little seeds are fast asleep,
Once a boy he. Ah, he's spied Folded warm, and covered deep.
That small boy, who runs so fast, When they peep up all around,
He will get there too, at last. From the moist, spring-swelling ground,
Now, go, go, Then we know,
Snow! Snow! Snow! 'Tis good-bye snow.


,, ta.

f ; '


JTyHE sunset yonder in the sunset sky, The sun has gone to bed, so tired he;
Is bright and red as any robins breast, The birds, dear, do not want to sit up late.
There is no sign of bird or butterfly, I'm very sure, that ev'ry baby bee
The bees have given up their honey quest, Knows better than to say "Mamma, please wait."
The moon will soon be bringing out her light, So, if the birds and bees do what is right,
'Tis time for Goldenhead to say Good-night. My Goldenhead will surely say Good-night,


p *~'-~~ ~ ~





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