• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Snow
 Bed time
 Too sure
 What's in the basket?
 The old clock
 Orphaned
 Two years old
 The butterfly
 Back Cover






Title: Tangles & curls, or, Little boys and little girls
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055780/00001
 Material Information
Title: Tangles & curls, or, Little boys and little girls
Alternate Title: Little boys and little girls
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : 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
 Subjects
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
 Notes
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: UF00055780
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 - 002222845
notis - ALG3091
oclc - 10246614

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Snow
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Bed time
        Page 4
        Page 5
    Too sure
        Page 6
        Page 7
    What's in the basket?
        Page 8
        Page 9
    The old clock
        Page 10
        Page 11
    Orphaned
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Two years old
        Page 14
        Page 15
    The butterfly
        Page 16
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
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SNOW.


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.



































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BED IM ..



JHE 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.






























































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0oo0 SUIRE.




cJ 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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jtIWHAY 'S IN BHwE BASKYE?


V HAT'S in the basket? I wonder, I wonder,
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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S [O-MORROW! to-morrow! when will it be here?
When I asked mamma if it wasn't real near,
She said, "When both hands on the clock point again
To twelve, why to-morrow will come to us then."



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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ORPHAN ED.



UNSHINE of golden floods all the earth over,
Gold in the heart of the rose,
Bountiful blooms all the garden walls cover, i
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 me good-night," whispers sister and brother,
"Good-night," whispers 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?

















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To wave her hand to papa; Set round with tiny pearls,
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XVF HAT 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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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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