Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 "See how strong I am"
 Don't care
 Two nameless kittens
 In mischief
 Grandma's baby
 Too precious
 Mammy's baby
 Hunting for eggs
 The rude rabbit
 Christmas morning
 When I am so tall
 A row of babies
 The butterfly
 Little Colty
 Louis' pigeons
 Green apples
 Come to supper
 Good-night, Dolly
 A quarrel
 Wake up
 A little dog
 In the grass
 Playing school
 Playing ball
 A neglected child
 Margery's family
 A queer house
 Bless it
 Alice in the rain
 New-mown hay
 Arthur's lamb
 Feeding puss
 Little chicks
 The little artist
 Evening prayer
 Back Cover

Title: Wee tots
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00078877/00001
 Material Information
Title: Wee tots
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: Worthington Co.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1890
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1890   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre: Children's poetry
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
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00078877
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002222843
notis - ALG3089
oclc - 31826577

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    "See how strong I am"
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Don't care
        Page 7
    Two nameless kittens
        Page 8
        Page 9
    In mischief
        Page 10
    Grandma's baby
        Page 11
    Too precious
        Page 12
    Mammy's baby
        Page 13
    Hunting for eggs
        Page 14
    The rude rabbit
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
    Christmas morning
        Page 18
    When I am so tall
        Page 19
    A row of babies
        Page 20
    The butterfly
        Page 21
        Page 22
    Little Colty
        Page 23
    Louis' pigeons
        Page 24
    Green apples
        Page 25
    Come to supper
        Page 26
    Good-night, Dolly
        Page 27
    A quarrel
        Page 28
    Wake up
        Page 29
    A little dog
        Page 30
    In the grass
        Page 31
    Playing school
        Page 32
    Playing ball
        Page 33
    A neglected child
        Page 34
    Margery's family
        Page 35
    A queer house
        Page 36
    Bless it
        Page 37
        Page 38
    Alice in the rain
        Page 39
    New-mown hay
        Page 40
        Page 41
    Arthur's lamb
        Page 42
    Feeding puss
        Page 43
    Little chicks
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
    The little artist
        Page 47
    Evening prayer
        Page 48
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

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(opyril Y 1890 by Worrbing~gI (o- -y.


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UHERE are you, my wee tots?

Come out from your hiding places,

Come, dusky and golden locks,

Come grave, come smiling faces;

A number of other tots

Are waiting-here to know you-

Are waiting to tell their names,

As they will quickly show you.

So come then, and you will see,

Though some of you be painted,

It will not be very long

Before you are all acquainted.

_ __ ~


" SEE [row SriwoNG I R.."

05C strong are you. my baby'?
I see that very plain
For yi,:u can hold above your head
Papa's big, heavy cane.

Why, s.-on y-u can rie lilting,
For your mamma, the chairs;
O)r bringing hea'. b, --oks to her.
()r helping her up-_tairs

Thl-n you can mail her letters,
And run her errands, too;
There is no end of all the things
My baby soon will do.

You soon will be quite manly,
Too soon, mamma thinks, dear;
For she 'd like to keep her baby
Many, many a year.

_ __~

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GYAMMA has gone for a moment,
And all the world is awry,
For it takes so very little
To make this baby cry.


DoN'm GAIrE.

LL alone they have left him
With only tables and chairs,
And so he laughs and plays to himself,
And never a bit he cares.


.4 4

~ucr~%.st~ E ~Kl YIFTlENS.

T WO little kittens, quite aristocratic,
Lived in a rummagy, cobwebbed attic.
They were no commonplace cats, if you
But sleek-coated, fine-furred, thorough Malt-
Said one to the other, "It is a shame
That we two kittens have never a name.
We belong to no one, none belongs to us,
Though I've heard some call our mother
'Ma'am Puss.'"
"Hark!" said the other, "here mother comes
We'll both of us set up a dismal meow.
If she boxes our ears, or gives a cuff,
Or asks if we have n't had food enough,
We '11 tell her our grief is deeper than that,
We think it a shame that so proud a cat
Should have two children with no names, at
And then we will mew and cat-er-waul,
Till she tells us how she came to be named.
We will let her know that we feel ashamed."
With a waving tail, and a stately tread,
In came the mother cat, stopped short, and
" What has happened, children, since I went
What in the world is this fuss about?"
" 0, mother, mother! we cannot be blamed;
Tell us, dear mother, why we are not named;
We are so ashamed, oh, what shall we do!
Meow, meow! 0, dear mother! Meow,
meow! Mew, mew! "

"Well," said their mother, "blood will tell, I'm
Such ambitious kittens show Maltese, pure.
Let me think, my dears, of some right good
plan ;
Now, keep very still, for I must and can.".
Then, softly licking one little, grey kit,
By the nape of the neck she picked up it,
And marched off grandly, came back for
the other,
And laid it down gently beside its brother,
On the bed of her mistress, Florence Flippet,
One on her muff, and one on her tippet,
Then sat down, placidly washing her face,
Well pleased that her kits were in a good
"I declare!" said Florence, "what is on my
A tail-paws-claws-and a little grey head,
Two new kittens, as I live. I declare!
I wonder who on earth could put them there.
Oh, they're yours, Ma'am Puss; well, they
are too sweet.
I will keep them both; to make them com-
Each shall have a ribbon, one red, one blue.
Indeed, Ma'am Puss, I'm much obliged to you.
They shall have milk whenever they can sip it,
I '11 call one Muff, and the other one Tippet."
Ma'am Puss winked slyly, not saying a word,
Rubbed against her mistress, and softly
That is all about it, for so, you see, it came
These aristocratic kittens each had a name.


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SOUR little kits in a basket,
O, the naughty kits!
Scattering the things about the floor,
Pulling them to bits.

Here is a ball of worsted,
O, the naughty kits!
It is the very ball that Belle
Uses when she knits.

There is a ball in a tangle,
0, the naughty kits!
Here is some silk all in a snarl,
There a pair of mitts.

One of these frolicsome kittens -
O, the naughty kits!
Has tried the baby's stocking on,
To see how it fits.

Belle, meanwhile, in the parlor,
0, the naughty kits !
Never dreams of this frolic;
By the window sits.

When she comes back and finds you,
O, you naughty kits !
I've an idea you '11 be frightened
Nearly out of your wits.


PIG, blue eyes and fuzzy head,

Lips like cherries, rosy red,

Cunning feet, with wee, pink toes,

Rose-leaf hands, and tiny nose,

Dimpled elbows, shoulders, knees,

Round her wrists a little crease,

One white tooth just peeping through

When she tries to say "Goo-goo!"

What if ev'ry one must walk

All a tip-toe, scarcely talk,

When she takes her morning nap?

That is nothing. Though a lap

Is the only place at night

That will suit her fancy quite.

Though she screams and shrieks with rage,

Did you do less at her age ?

What if she must clutch and tear

From its roots her grandma's hair?

If your watch will keep her quiet,

Why, my dear, of course you'll try it.

Bang the tongs, she's fond of music.

Does she cry? You would, were you sick.

Spoiled, you say? You think so, maybe.

But, you see, she's Grandma's baby.

_ _


YOU want my dolly, Baby?
I really must say, No.
I love it quite too much, you see,
To ever let it go.

For now 't is fresh and lovely,
But I'm afraid, my dear,
If once I let you have it,
'T would soon look very queer.

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IOW many eggs has Birdie found?
One she saw lying on the ground,
Four in a new nest hid away,
All snug and dark, beneath the hay.

Three were down by the currant
Close to the fence, where tall weeds
Crowd through the rails, and climb
But birdie saw the hen come out.

Under the south porch steps were
For out of there old Top-knot flew,
She fussed, and clucked, and cackled
That Birdie knew just where to go.

And one lay down in Billy's stall
Among the corn, and that was all.
How many were there? Let us see;
I '11 count with you, you count with

First, four will go into a cake
That old Aunt Phoebe wants to bake.
The coffee one will clear, you know.
For grandma's breakfast two must go.
Three in the muffins, add to seven,
And one is left- that's just eleven.

- -- --- ---


TpHERE were some little rabbits that once
lived in a wood;
Some were gray, and some were white, and all
were very good
Except one little rabbit, who was so impo-
That his mother had to scold him from morn-
ing until night.

He never thought of waiting at meal-time for
the rest,
But always first began to eat, and tried to get
the best.
He would reach across the table, and sometimes,
I must own,
He even helped himself before his mother
could sit down.

Then how he interrupted, if a friend across
the way
Came to call upon his mother, perhaps to
spend the day.
He would never walk behind her, in a nice,
respectful way,
But would rush right in, and never wait with
what he had to say.


He never would say Thank you," and scarcely
ever "Please,"
And when he wanted anything, he'd tease, and
tease, and tease.
He'd the rudest way of calling his mother to
come down,
And, without knocking, walked in rooms as if
they were his own.

And these are only half the things this little
rabbit did;
He never seemed to learn enough to do as he
was bid,
Till no one ever asked him to visit or to
And they'd look at him most scornfully, be-
cause he had no pride.

And when this little rabbit a full-grown rabbit
He had to live all by himself, quite unbeloved,
He was so rude nobody cared to have him
within sight-
To think of what a difference, had he but been



VER you go
Into the snow,
Eyes are bright, cheeks in a glow.
Out he crawls,
Now snow-balls
Fly against the trees and walls.

O, this is pfime,
Now's the time
To run and tumble, race and climb.
When we are old,
Snow will seem cold,
And we'll not be overbold.


* I-.

ITTY-CAT, kitty-cat,

What are you looking at?

SAt this little girl, I am looking," said she;

At this little girl,. who is looking at me."

Pussy-kit, pussy-kit,

What do you think of it?

think, just at present, that she 's very nice,

But sometimes I 'd rather be looking for mice."

Kitty-cat, kitty-cat,

What's the reason of that?
"-Children sometimes pull tails, and sometimes they tease,

Then I 'd rather be out of the way, if you please."


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HT E snow had fallen softly
All through the winter night,
And in the morning all the ground
Was covered pure and white.

The church bell's merry chiming
Upon the air out rang,
While merrily the little ones
Their Christmas greetings sang.

Two happy little children
Were Isabel and Paul,
Such stuffed out stockings never were,
How could they hold it all?

For there were balls, and watches,
And nuts, and funny toys,
And little dolls, and oranges,
And candy girls and boys.

And then, besides the stockings,
Were larger toys and games,
Some picture books, a Christmas tree
All lit with little flames.

So two such happy children
You never saw that day,
Though on next Christmas,
You, no doubt, will be as glad. as they.




UTHEN I am so tall
I '11 travel all over
The whole great, wide world,
New lands to discover;
I '11 find the North Pole
And the Fortunate Isles;
Into Africa then
I will travel for miles.

I will dive in the sea;
I'11 sail through the clouds
In a great, big balloon,
High over the crowds.
Through Greenland I'll drive
A team of reindeers,
And furs I will wear
All over my ears.

Then down to the desert
I'11 go, and I'11 ride
A fine, mettled steed,
Some Arabian's pride;
I '11 hunt and I '11 shoot
A tiger and bear,
And some mighty lion
I'11 drive from its lair.

I'11 build me a palace
Of silver and gold,
And fill it with fine things
As full as 't will hold;
The poor and the wretched,
I '11 give to them all.
O, how much I '11 do
When I am so tall.



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OW many babies are there here?
One, two, three, four, five, my dear.
One is like a rosebud sweet,
Soft, pink hands and rosy feet;
One is like a daisy white,
Golden hair, and eyes so bright;
One is like a violet,
Such a dark-eyed little pet;
One is like a lovely pink,
Just as fair as you can think;
One is like a singing-bird,
Sweetest voice you ever heard.

What do these babies do, my man
I will tell you if I can.
All these little babies coo,
Just the way that you used to;
And these little babies smile,
You do, too, once in a while;
Then these little babies cry.
Would you like to hear them try ?
And these little babies play
In a funny, aimless way;
Then to sleep these babies go,
That is just what you must do.




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]LL the winter long, without dance or song,
Stand the empty fields, till the sun
Bids the ice and snow to the brooks to go,
And the sweet spring days have begun,
Then, from far and near, those who can may hear
How the fairies troop and come-
Come from here, from there, come from everywhere
Each one to her flower 'home.
The violets shy, hide so modestly,
And the buttercups laugh outright,
While the daisies white, with their eyes so bright,
Seem to have come in a night.
Clover, white or red, now pokes up a head
From the grass, in its sweet-breathed way.
In her gown of pink, fair as you can think,
Near by does the wild rose sway.
O, they all are there, and they fill the air
With the scent of their perfumed gowns,
From their little feet, dainty, fine and neat,
To the top of their fairy crowns.
In the midnight hush, up from leaf and bush
They start from their sleep and play.
And the mice and moles creep out from their holes
To be as light-footed as they.
Round and round they dance, they trip and they prance,
To the music, sweet and gay,
Which the pop-eyed frogs, from the ponds and bogs,
On their instruments will play.
While the beetle's drum, and the locust's hum
Resound from every tree,
And the grey mice squeak till they scarce can speak,
For they grow so hoarse with glee.
"Encore! encore! we want to hear more;
Go on with your music, please;
We will join in your fun, for the spring has begun,
No nights are such nights as these."
O, they all are there, each one, each pair,
Though you never can find them out.
When the morning comes they are safe in their homes,
Not one is lurking about.




LITTLE Colty, eating hay,
Tell me little colty, say,
Don't you think you'd rather be
A nice little boy like me?

You could make a jolly racket,
Have a fine new little jacket,
And a pair of first rate trousers,
'Stead of hair on you like Towser's.
You could have good bread and pie,
In a clean white bed you'd lie.
Have a little cart, your own,
A real carriage when you're grown.

Be a boy No sir, I thank you,
With all silly things I rank you.
I don't want your pie and stuff,
Give me hay, that's good enough.

Carriages I'll soon have plenty,
You'll not get yours till you're twenty;
All my life my coat lasts through,
That is more than yours will do.
No, you foolish little dolt,
I would rather be a colt.


BLY, little pigeons, from dovecote and roof,
Do not be frightened, and hold you aloof;
Strut with red feet, and flutter with wing,
Here is a supper that's fit for a king.

Sleek little pigeons, the ground I will strew
With full golden grains, such morsels for you.
Fantail and pouter, white, brown, blue and grey,
Nothing shall hurt you, or drive you away.

Coo, coo, my pigeons, when sleep my eyes leaves
I hear your soft murmurings under the eaves;
And I'm not afraid in the darkness to be,
For I think that my pigeons are cooing to me.

GREEN APPLES.-Continued.

Papa said they must be big as a fist-
We 've watched to see them grow."
"He thought of his fist, not yours," said mamma;
There is some difference, you know.

Apples to roast, apples to stew,
Apples for turnover pies,
Dumplings, perhaps, will take a few,
But eat none green, if you 're wise.

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OiT in the garden an old apple tree Alas! alas' they were sour and green-
Sto:d,. with its L.:.ughs wide-spread, Indeed, not fit to eat.
Covered, in spring, '\ith a delicate bloom, I thought," said Robin, when apples were ripe

In autumn, with apples red. They would be good and sweet."

ApplesI to r.:ast. apples to Stew

Apples for turnover pies,

Dumplings, perhaps, will take a few,

But eat none green, if you 're wise.

Ellette and Robin played under the tree,

Watching the apples grow.
"Whin they are big as my fit:." said Ellette,

" Then we can eat them, you know.

For I asked papa, and he told me so:

As big as a ist," said he.

I really think that in one more week

They 'II be large enough. maybe.

They gathered a few and carried them in,

"'Mamma, what does it mean'

These apples are surely quite large enough,

But yet they are suur and green

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LITTLE birds are flying home;
Winds are softly blowing;
All along the evening sky
Rosy lights are glowing.

Standing in the stable yard,
Quiet cows are lowing;
Now, "Good-night" a rooster says,
With a lusty crowing.

There 's a scent of fresh-cut hay
Mowers leave their mowing,
While the cheerful supper horn
Tells where they are going.

Nannie stands and sounds the horn;
Toot-a-toot! she's blowing.
Come to supper, men and boys.
Look, how late 't is growing.

Come to supper. Come! Come! Come!
See what mother's doing-
Baking cakes and making tea,
While the horn is blowing.


GOoD-nIGHr, DoLmY.

qOW, you dearest little doll,
We must say good-night;
We will tuck you safely in,
Under covers white.

We will sit and sing to you
Some sweet little song,
So you'll sleep, and never know
That the nights are long.

-. ;

If you hear a noise at night,
You must never cry.
It will only be a bird
Flying through the sky.

If a little, white-winged moth
Flutters near your bed,
It has only lost its way;
Do not hide you head.

If you hear a patt'ring sound
Overhead so plain,
Do not think 't is anything
But the dripping rain.

In the morning you must lie
Quietly and still
Till we come to take you up,
For you know we will.


- 30 "

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- -

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IT was on: a rainy morning"
That the trouble came about.
For mamma said, "Little children,
'T is too wet to send you out."

Then the restless little children
Stood by the window pane
Until they both were tired
Of the dripping, dropping rain.

So they played awhile with kitty,
And they looked at picture-books.
Next, they hid themselves in corners,
And the oddest sorts of nooks.

Still the rain came, patter, patter.
And the sky was dull and grey.
Said Lee, "I hate this weather;
I want a sunny day."

But Mabel took her dolly,
And laid it in her lap,
Saying, "Lee, be quiet
While dolly takes a nap."

But Lee picked up the dolly,
SAnd threw it on the floor,
And said, "You sha'n't have dolly,
You shall play with me some more."

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(1)AXE UP.

AND then d1o\wn fell the tear-drops
From Mabel's big, blue eyes;
And there was rain within doors,
As well as in the skies.

Then mamma said, "Little children,
This is very, very sad;
Go, Lee, and kiss your sister,
Like a manly little lad.

And tell her you are sorry.
It is bad enough, my dears,
To have the raindrops falling;
So we'll try to dry the tears."

Such a very funny story
Then mamma began to tell,
That soon you would have wondered
How a tear-drop ever fell.

And when the tale was finished
There peeped into the room
A little, happy sunbeam,
That drove away the gloom.

Then ev'ry one was happy--
The birdies in the trees,
The little children in the room,
The flowers and the bees.

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LITTLE, curly dog,
Who thought him very wise,
Went to find some feathers
To brush away the flies.

His hair was very long;
His eyes were very bright;
His tail was very short,
Though it wagged with all its might.

His little nose was black;
His little tongue was red ;
And as he trotted off
This little doggie said:

I'm such a knowing dog;
At least they tell me so.
Whichever way I start
I '11 not have far to go.

He travelled up the road,
Then trotted down the lane,
And when he reached the end
He turned him back again.

Then down he sat and sighed,
"I can't be very wise,
For never once a feather
Has dropped before my eyes.

With tail between his legs,
And feeling much to blame,
He went back to his friends
The very way he came.

Of all these little dogs
You see here in a row,
Which is the one I mean?
I wonder if you know.

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" OWN in the grass we are, dolly and I;
Over our heads is the blue summer sky,

Daisies and clover are growing about,
Gay little butterflies dance in and out;
Nobody knows all we dream of down here,
Or who are our visitors, quaint and queer.
But we know about it-my dolly and I.

Sometimes a grasshopper, hoppity-hop.
Right at my elbow will make a short stop;
Sometimes a birdie forgets to be shy
Sometimes a cricket, that's chirping hard by,
Will sit on a stone and so merrily sing;
Sometimes a butterfly rests on its wing.
We know them all well-my dolly and I.

Once a wee toady got lost; by a stone
It sat so forlornly, -the poor little one,
And then a big toady, so droll and so fat,
Came hopping along to where wee toady sat.
Then off they both went, in the funniest way -
I shall never forget how they looked that day.
How we both laughed at them-dolly and I.

Sometimes we hear, in the great, big green trees,
A whispering sound, then we know that the breeze
Has brought from far off some message to all
Who live in the woods, with the trees so tall;
We almost can hear what the breezes say,
We think we shall learn what it means, some day.
For we try very hard--my dolly and I.


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P-A, ba, and b-e, be,
Tell me, what does that spell ?
D-a, da, and d-e, de,
How do you spell hat, Nell?

Class in spelling take their seats,
Now, I'll hear your tables?
And the very first that cheats
Takes that seat of Mabel's.

'Tis recess. Where is the bell?
Look at Baby Benny;
He's eating all the luncheon, Nell,
He'll not leave us any.

Ting-a-ling! Now school is out,
Baby, what's the matter?
Goodness! Johnnie, how you shout,
What a noise and clatter.

-. .. .1 .X I

Bounce a ball! Bounce see how high it can go;
Now overhead, and now down below,
Catch, catch who can, before it shall fall.
Bounce a ball !

Catch, catch who can, take care; 0, take care,
It will not always stay up in the air,
And there are pictures and shelves in the hall.
Bounce a ball!

Yes, there are pictures and shelves, wouldd be sad,
If you should break something, my little lad,
It would be better to go by the wall
To bounce a ball.

It would be better, my dears, for out there
There will be nothing to break anywhere,
The grass is too short, the trees are too tall,
Bounce a ball!






ENEATH the tree, the leafy tree,
A sad, neglected dolly sat;
Her little mother, lost in thought,
Forgot her child, forgot her cat,
Thought only of her fine, new hat.

Poor, little dolly, she was sad,
Although a friendly cricket came
And chirped beside her in the grass.
A little bird, too, grew so tame,
He whistled loud, and told his name.

And then a busy, buzzing bee
Stopped for a moment on its way,
And asked the dolly where she lived,
And why she did not go and play;
Then flew off with a kind "Good day."

Around her, dandelions grew,
And daisies smiled and nodded near;
Sweet clover, too, showed white and red,
And all of them said "Dolly, dear,
How very lonely you appear."

But they stood rooted to thb ground,
So not one footstep could they stir;
The bees and birdies could not stay,
And there were none to talk to her,
Until she heard a gentle purr.

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OU scarce would think that we could be
All children of one family.
We're quite unlike, as you may see,
Yet all belong to Margery.

Here's Genevieve, and Wah-Sam-Sim,
Wee "Dotty Dimple" next in line;
Then, in the middle, Limber Tim,
Then Belle and Flora, dressed so fine.

The last is Rose, her eyes will shut-
She's been a bride so very long
We'd wonder at her patience, but
To Margery we all belong.


Then something rubbed against her side,
It was the little kitty-cat
That came to keep her company.
She gave the doll a little pat,
And said, "See, I have come to chat.

I know how lonely you must be;
Minnie does not see us, at all.
We will not care; you talk to me,
And let' her lean against the wall;
What matters it if we are small?

So are the bees, and birds, and buds;
We all can have a good time, too.
Some day, when Minnie is alone,
And wants to play, or talk to you,
We '11 go and hide, that's what we'll do."


M A E- S P 7, S F r.I II.,','

",JUHO will live in this great high house?"
"I cannot tell you: perhaps a mouse.
We'll say a mouse, and a baby one
Will come and live here, when it is done."

"What will they do in this house so high?"
"They'll think it reaches up to the sky;
They '11 run about, with their long, slim tails,
And hide away from the cat's sharp nails."

"Will they live here only in the night?"
"They would not dare to when it is light.
The mother mouse will say, 'Squeaky-squeak.'
Hush, little baby, you must not speak."

" What will they do when they get
" The mother mousey will say, 'My
This is a house that was built for
So that we might hide away from

in here?"

" What will they do for something to eat?"
We will put on the floor some bread and meat.
The mother will say, "Just see how nice
Is the supper left for us poor mice."

"Sister, I wish I could see it all."
" You cannot; the mice are very small,
And you will not hear a bit of noise,
For they will not come where there are boys."

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fLESS it! bless it! bless it !
How does mother dress it?
In little white frocks,
Little shoes and socks,
And a little cap.
Kiss it kiss it kiss it!
How mamma will miss it
When the baby grows
Too big for all those,
And for mamma's warm lap.

Hold it, hold it, hold it,
In mamma's arms fold it.
Soon he 'll run about,
Talk, and laugh, and shout.
Hold him while she can.
Love it, love it, love it,
Roses grow above it.
When my baby grows
Tall as yonder rose,
He 'll be his mother's man.

"COCK-A-DOODLEDOO! "Then I will go and call
Good morning, how are you?" The other hens, for all
Said Mr. Buff to Mrs. Buff, one morning in Must have a good breakfast to-day," said Mr.
the spring. Buff.
'T is a very fine day; Mrs. Brownie, Mrs. White,
So please to walk this way, Mrs. Snowflake, Mrs. Bright,
And you'll see how nice a breakfast that little Mrs. Speckle, Mrs. Top-knot, and that pretty
girl will bring. Mrs. Ruff.

Cut-a-caw-caw-caw !" Mr. Brigham I '11 not tell,
Said Mrs. Buff; "I saw For I know very well
The little girl go get some corn from out of He. will try to pick a fight with me the minute
the bin; that he can;
So let us run quick, If any one prefers
And be the first to pick, Such very long spurs,
For it will all be gone if we do not soon Why, let him do the fighting, I will choose
begin, some other plan."

You know that greedy duck
Is always in such luck,
And gobbles up so fast with that spoon-like They
We will never get enough
If we linger, Mr. Buff,
So we must go as fast as we can travel up the Then

So each modest little hen
Followed Mr. Buff, and then
all fell to eating just as quickly as they
And they all ate so fast
Scarce a moment did it last;
they all walked away, saying, "0, but
that was good!"




S HE thunder clouds gather,
We '11 have some wet weather
To freshen the flowers and grain.
So come, Alice, hurry,
Or mother will worry
To know you are out in the rain.

There! Hark to the thunder!
The tall trees bend under,
When the stiff breezes rush up the plain.
Now Alice must scamper,
Or she will be damper
Than she should be, out in the rain.

S. o

Quite soon, and you see, dear,
T Y ou s oon will be in it-.
Don't stop for a minute,
But take the near way up the lane.
The raindrops will be here
Quite soon, and you see, dear,
They'll dash you and splash you with rain.

There, see how they patter,
But hurry, no matter;
Good-bye, little girl, come again.
The grass is not cut yet,
So don't get your feet wet;
Run home, Alice, dear, from the rain.

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-J HAT I; -s- ..c-i a the n.: -. ron r, hi,
And what is more fun than to roll and play
Down in the hay-field, some July day'
To watch the men pile the hay-mows high :
To watch the clouds drift over the sky,
And hear the birds in the woods hard by.
To see in the pond, the cows. knee-deep,
Switching their tails, and half asleep,
While up on the hillside feed nimble sheep.

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While you watch the shadows dance in the pool.
Where trees bend over to keep it cool.
To make you nests in the hay so sweet,
And cover you up from head to feet,
Or lie in the shade, away from the heat.
And then, at last, when the first stars peep,
To clamber up, sinking in so deep,
And go riding home on the last big heap.


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DOWN in a grass-grown meadow,
Where crimson clover grows,
Where, in a corner, clambers
A fragrant, fair wild rose.

There, through the summer hours,
Some pretty, woolly sheep
Feed on the tender grasses,
Or 'mid the clover sleep.

Often, in dusky evening,
When dark is earth and sky,
They hear the sheep-bells tinkle
In the cottage home, hard by.

And when the dew lies thickly
On stone, and bush, and weed,
From the cottage doorway Arthur
Watches the white sheep feed.

And when the sun has clambered
Higher over his head,
Arthur goes to the pasture
Between the clover red.

For in the grassy meadow
Is Arthur's own pet lamb,
Frisking among the clover,
Or lying close by its dam.

It is so tame and gentle
'T will eat from Arthur's hand,
And in his arms 't will nestle,
Or by his shoulder stand.

While Arthur sits and wonders
How many years will creep
Before he's grown to be a man,
And the lamb has grown a sheep.

-- .


IF you were a little baby,
Sitting upon the floor,
Having had a hearty breakfast,
Not wanting any more;
And if a sleek, little kitty
Came purring up to you,
Rubbing her head against you,
I wonder what you would do.
I wonder if you would give her
The crust you could not eat,
Inviting the little kitty
Politely to take a seat.

I wonder if you would tease her,
Or tickle her furry ear,
Until your mamma said to you,
" Do not hurt kitty, dear."
I wonder if you would wonder
Why kitty refused to stay,
Not meaning, at all, to hurt her,
But only a bit of play.
And I wonder if you'd toddle
To catch her, at such a pace
That you'd trip upon the carpet,
And fall on your darling face.

For, if all of this should happen,
Though I do not know your name,
To this pretty, little baby
It happened, just the same.


_ __ __

S7 .



ITTLE yellow chickens,

Just like balls of down,

Lulu, Bertha, Frank and Will

Have them for their own.

First, their hen, Rosetta,

Laid an egg, and then,

Next day, laid another-

Such a busy hen.

Kept on 'till they numbered
Thirteen. Think of it!

Then, no doubt, Rosetta thought,
I'll begin to sit.

Carefully she covered

All her eggs so warm;

Watched them, scarcely leaving,

Lest they'd come to harm.


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Finally, one morning, All these dear, wee chickens
" Hear that clucking sound," In Rosetta's nest;
Frank said. "Do come, Bertha, You, and Will, and I'11 have two:

See what I have found! Lu can have the rest."

Ev'ry day they fed them,
And they grew so fast:
Soon big cocks and hens were they,
Baby-time was past.

4 ," -"., -... .- ..
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PIGGY-WIGGY-WIG, You are not a pretty beast,
You 're very fat and big, And I would not like to feast
And you spend all your time at your meals, On the apple cores and watermelon rinds you
they say use,
If I were you, I think Upon sour milk and sops,
I would not eat and drink And ev'ry sort of slops.
So much that they 'd turn me into pork But pigs, I suppose, like beggars, cannot
some day. choose.

What funny little eyes
For a creature of your size;
And your nose is as long as your tail, you But

Do you always grunt and squeal
At your buttermilk and meal?
And when you see a pail nearly dance a And


Piggy-wig, fare you well.
This truth is sad to tell,
I fear the next time I meet you, my
That you '11 be feeding me,
For sausage meat you '11 be,
that is the way our acquaintance will


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" ND what, Master George, are you trying to draw?"
The prettiest picture that ever you saw.
It's all plain enough in my mind, but, oh, dear!
When I try to do it, it does look so queer.
I thought I would make, first, a lovely, soft sky,
And then some tall trees, with the tops up so high;
A dear, little brook, all so shady and clear,
And then a nice meadow, with cows grazing near.
But just look at this; it is nothing, at all;
The sky only seems like the side of a wall.
The trees are like broom straws; the brook -who could drink it?
And as for the cows- they 're like mules. Do n't you think it?
It's all so discouraging, and I'll not try
To paint any more, but will be, by and bye,
A blacksmith, or milkman, because I do n't find
That pictures will ever come out of my mind."
" My dear, little boy, you are not the first one
Who has talked of his work in that pitiful tone.
I think there's been many and many a painter
Who found courage failing, and hope growing fainter.
What, then? Did success come because all complained ?
No, no! 't was by trying successes were gained.
Though the loveliest pictures of all, I 'm afraid,
Are the pictures, my darling, that never are made."



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IHEN the light is fading
From the western sky,
And the calm stars glisten
In the heavens high,

Then good-nights are spoken,
Toys are laid away,
And the little children,
Kneeling, softly pray.

Dearest Lord, we thank Thee
For Thy care to-day;
Make us good and gentle,
Take our faults away.

Bless the friends who love us,
From us evil keep,
Let Thy holy angels
Watch us while we sleep.

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