• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Playing ball
 A neglected child
 Margery's family
 A queer house
 Bless it
 Breakfast
 Alige in the rain
 New-mown hay
 Arthur's lamb
 Feeding puss
 Little chicks
 Piggy
 The little artist
 Evening prayer
 Back Cover














Title: Bless it
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00078878/00001
 Material Information
Title: Bless it
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: Worthington Co.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1890
 Subjects
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
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: illustrated by Ida Waugh ; verses by Amy Ella Blanchard.
General Note: "Cosack & Co."--cover
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00078878
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002222849
notis - ALG3095
oclc - 181341535

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Playing ball
        Page 2
    A neglected child
        Page 3
    Margery's family
        Page 4
    A queer house
        Page 5
    Bless it
        Page 6
    Breakfast
        Page 7
    Alige in the rain
        Page 8
    New-mown hay
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Arthur's lamb
        Page 11
    Feeding puss
        Page 12
    Little chicks
        Page 13
        Page 14
    Piggy
        Page 15
    The little artist
        Page 16
    Evening prayer
        Page 17
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text












ILLVSR-AED By




VCRSCS By

Imy &la Ilane ar6

WORRTHIGTO\ (Co. NE.W/ORK-

(opyrig hr1890 by Woirl ingroo (o.
NEW YORK*


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IfE R LEGbEGIED GHILD.


PENEATH 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 the 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.




























XI-
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(DARGEIv'S .AFAMILY.


Y OU scarce would thlnk that ;\e .-I Jjuld l[.
All children of one family.
\\'e 're quite unlike, as you may see,
Vet all belojn to larger:' .


Here's Gcne vieve, and Wah-Sam.Sim,
\\'ee Dirt Dimple" next in ine;
Then, in the middle, Limber Tim
Then Bell.e inld Flora, dresetl > :- fine.


The iast is Rose, her eyes will shut-
She 's been a bride so very long
W'e 'd w\vnder at her patience, but
T:, Nlargery wre all L:,,l.:lng.



N i.,i... i ii [. i lll. '. ".''. ;,, ,'

Then .-.,metlitn. iuLibt':- ag.in!. h'-r -.dic.
It \\as the litthl- ki i rat
rhati an-tc t,. !eep her .: mpan.
,h.- gave the d.ll a laitl- [at,
And .d. I la.- .,m .: t ha


I knj\\w hi-w ,lonely \.',u must te:
Minnie d,.es not see us, at all.
\\e i\ ill not care, youI talk to: me,
And let her lean against the w\ ll;
\\'hat matter- ii if v.e are small


':, are the .ees and' birds, and biid:
\Ve all can hav'- a g.._d time, t:,.
c.i- delay when Mirnnie is alhne,
And '.wants t,.- la\i ...r talk to:' you.
\\'e ,.. .and hi.le, that 's ihat we'll dc."
















































' 'bHO 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 '11 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."


S"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?"
dear,
us,
puss.' "


"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."


fI E~I[~-:ET: ilrri~[SE.
































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Lh ESS IT.
ILESS 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 '11 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.


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BPEAKP.FASr.


OCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!
Good morning, how are you?"
Said Mr. Buff to Mrs. Buff, one morning in
the spring.
'T is a very fine day;
So please to walk this way,
And you 'll see how nice a breakfast that little
girl will bring.


Then I will go and call
The other hens, for all
Must have a good breakfast to-day," said Mr.
Buff.
Mrs. Brownie, Mrs. White,
Mrs. Snowflake, Mrs. Bright,
Mrs. Speckle, Mrs. Top-knot, and that pretty
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 So each modest little hen
Is always in such luck, Followed Mr. Buff, and then
And gobbles up so fast with that spoon-like They all fell to eating just as quickly as they
bill, could.
We will never get enough And they all ate so fast
If we linger, Mr. Buff, Scarce a moment did it last;
So we must go as fast as we can travel up the Then they all walked away, saying, "0, but
hill." that was good !"














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FIiIGIE II

HE thunder clouds gather,
We'll 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.


THE P'AlrJ.

You soon 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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ti HAT is as '%eL a- tht 11 i nir" n t.3,
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.


Ir : L 0. 3 l jl th a t t lli r e 4 n .. h ,. ,:.l
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.


YA ;.


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fRlITHUl'S LAMB.


]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.





























"4 .,

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FEEDING PUSS.


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.


Nr' -


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LcIrm-IuE GHIGKS.


IITTLE 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,

"Hear that clucking sound,"

Frank said. "Do come, Bertha,

See what I have found !


All Lhese dear, wee cuhckens

In Rosetta's nest;

You, and Will, and I'll have two:

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.


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EIGGY.


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 Piggy-wig, fare you well.
For a creature of your size; This truth is sad to tell,
And your nose is as long as your tail, you But I fear the next time I meet you, my

pig. friend,
Do you always grunt and squeal That you 'll be feeding me,
At your buttermilk and meal ? For sausage meat you '11 be,
And when you see a pail nearly dance a And that is the way our acquaintance will

jig? end.


















5 ..
lot

4.1J 1O1P%


ND what, Master George, are you trying to draw?"
S "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 '11 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
SWho 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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73"
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EvERNING i10_AYEI.


WHEN 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 hoty angels
Watch us while we sleep.




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