Citation
Wee tots

Material Information

Title:
Wee tots
Creator:
Blanchard, Amy Ella, 1856-1926
Waugh, Ida, d. 1919 ( Illustrator )
Worthington Company ( Publisher )
Cosack & Co
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
Worthington Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
48 p. : col. ill. ; 27 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
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
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
"Cosack & Co."--cover
Statement of Responsibility:
illustrations by Ida Waugh ; verses by Amy Ella Blanchard.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026608197 ( ALEPH )
ALG3089 ( NOTIS )
31826577 ( OCLC )

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Full Text
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(Copyright 1890 by Worthington (yy:





DEDIGAMION,

WHERE 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.





e

“SEE How Smrone I Am.”

O strong are you, my baby? Then you can mail her letters,
I see that very plain; And run her errands, too ;
For you can hold above your head There is no end of all the things
Papa's big, heavy cane. 5 My baby soon will do.

Why, soon you can be lifting, You soon will be quite manly,
For your mamma, the chairs ; Too soon, mamma thinks, dear ;

Or bringing heavy books to her, For she ’d like to keep her baby °
Or helping her up-stairs. i Many, many a year.





GARE.

Me has gone for a moment,
And all the world is awry,

For it takes so very little

To make this baby cry.









DON’ GARE.

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.



6wo RAMELESS KIMMENS.

WO little kittens, quite aristocratic, “ Well,” said their mother, “blood will tell, I’m
Lived in a rummagy, cobwebbed attic. sure ; j
They were no commonplace cats, if you Such ambitious kittens show Maltese, pure.
please, Let me think, my dears, of some right good
But sleek-coated, fine-furred, thorough Malt- plan ;
ese. Now, keep very still, for I must and can.”
Said one to the other, “‘It is a shame Then, softly licking one little, grey kit,
That we two kittens have never a name. By the nape of the neck she picked up it,
We belong to no one, none belongs to us, And marched off grandly, came back for
Though 1’ve heard some call our mother the other,
‘Ma’am Puss.’”’ And laid it down gently beside its brother,
“ Hark!” said the other, “here mother comes On the bed of her mistress, Florence Flippet,
now, One on her muff, and one on her tippet,
We'll both of us set up a dismal meow. Then sat down, placidly washing her face,
If she boxes our ears, or gives a cuff, Well pleased that her kits were in a good
Or asks if we have n’t had food enough, place.
We'll tell her our grief is deeper than that, ‘I declare!” said Florence, “what is on my
We think it a shame that so proud a cat bed? :
Should have two children’ with no names, at A tail—paws—claws—and a little grey head,
all. 3 Two new kittens, as I live. I declare!
And then we will mew and cat-er-waul, I wonder who on earth could put them there.
Till she tells us how she came to be named. Oh, they ’re yours, Ma’am Puss; well, they
We will let her know that we feel ashamed.” are too sweet.
With a waving tail, and a stately tread, I will keep them both; to make them com-
In camie the mother cat, stopped short, and plete
said, Each shall have a ribbon, one red, one blue.
“What has happened, children, since I went Indeed, Ma’am Puss, I’m much obliged to you.
out? They shall have milk whenever they can sip it,
What in the world is this fuss about?” I'll call one Muff, and the other one Tippet.”
“©, mother, mother! we cannot be blamed ; Ma’am Puss winked slyly, not saying a word,
Tell-us, dear mother, why we are not named; Rubbed against her mistress, and softly
We are so ashamed, oh, what shall we do! purred.
Meow, meow! O, dear mother! Meow, That is all about it, for so, you see, it came
meow! Mew, mew!” These aristocratic kittens each had a name.









IN MISGHIEF.

FLOUR 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,
O, 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,

O, 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'll be frightened

Nearly out of your wits.





GRANDMA’S BABY.

jale 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 le

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.
Docs she cry? You would, were you sick.
Spoiled, you say? You think so, maybe.

But, you see, she’s Grandma’s baby.







©00 PREGIOUS.

OU want my dolly, Baby?
I really must say, No.
I love it quite too much, you see,

To ever let it go.

12

For now ’tis fresh and lovely,
But I’m afraid, my dear,
If once I let you have it,

*T would soon look very queer.



















MAMMY’S BABY.

IS chile? Why, bless you, honey !
She sutt’nly is dat sweet
You wouldn’t need no sugar,
Ef she was made to eat.

An’ smart! de smartes’ baby
Dere is in all dis town;

She got her toofies long befo’
Dat no count Hay’et Brown.

An’ loves her mammy, don’ she?
Law, bless de honey chile !
She know ez well ez I do
What makes her mammy smile.

She this go tug at mammy,
And try to pull her hyar,

An’ try to poke out mammy’s eyes,
But mammy ain’ gwine cyar.

Now tell de lady what yo name,
An’ den how big you is;
Now kiss yo hand to lady,
So she know how you's riz.

Now come with old Betheuk,
She gwine to take you home,
An’ may be you learn howdy
De nex time dat you come.



OW 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
bush,

Close to the fence, where tall weeds

oi push,

Chrno \

rs : fee Crowd through the rails, and climb
about.

But birdie saw the hen come out.

Under the south porch steps were



two,
For out of there old Top-knot flew,

_ She fussed, and clucked, and cackled |
= 50; |

_ That Birdie knew just where to go.



nd one lay down in Billy’s stall
mong the corn, and that was all.
How many were there? Let us see;

I?ll count with you, you count with



me,

First, four will go into a cake :
That old Aunt Phoebe wants to bake. |
The coffee one will clear; you know.
HUNTING FOR €66Gs, For. grandma’s breakfast two must go.
: Three in the muffins, add to seven,

And one is left—that’s just eleven.



14







Se 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-
lite

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 RUDE RABBI.









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
ride,

And they ’d look at him most scornfully, be-
cause he had no pride.

And when this little rabbit a full-grown rabbit
was, 5

He had to live all by himself, quite unbeloved,
because

He was so rude nobody cared to have him
within sight—

To think of what a difference, had he but been

polite.













SNOWDRIFMS.

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 prime,
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.

16





Kimmy-Gam.

ITTY-CAT, kitty-cat,
What are you looking at?
“At this little girl, Iam looking,” said she ;

“At this little girl, who is looking at me.”

Pussy-kit, pussy-kit,
What do you think of it?
“T 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.”







HE snow had fallen sottly
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?

-GHRISTMAS MORNING.

18



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.






























WHEN I am so tall
I’ll travel all over
The whole great, wide world,
New lands to discover ;
I’ll find the North Pole
And the Fortunate Isles ;
Into Africa then

I will travel for miles.

I will dive in the sea;

Ill 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’ll go, and Ill ride

A fine, mettled steed,
Some Arabian’s pride;

I’ll hunt and I'll shoot
A tiger and bear,

And some mighty lion

I’ll drive from its lair.

I’ll build me a palace
Of silver and gold,

@®WHEN | GM SO OALL And fill it with fine things
As full as ’t will hold;

The poor and the wretched,



I’ll give to them all.
O, how much I’ll do
When I am so tall.



aD)



A Row or

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.

20



BABIES.

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.



@©HE BUNTERFLY.

[7LITTING and flying, dipping and dancing, ‘‘ Where the dewdrops sparkle, where green leaves swing,

Butterfly, why do you roam ? : And make a roof o’er my bed, |

1s it because you have nothing to do, Near the Cricket’s Inn, and Grasshopper’s Lodge, |
Or that you’ve never a home? Is where I shelter my head. |

I know where the birds and the squirrels live, Just around the corner the wise owl lives, |
And where the brown bees abide, And the bats with wide wings fan

But never once have I caught you at home, The very door of my dwelling place, |
Pray tell me, where do you-hide?” You may find it now—if you can.”









FAIRY-©IME.

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 ev’rywhere
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.

22









LImmLE Goumy.

[giTTLE Colty, eating hay,
Tell me little colty, sav,
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.

23

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.



IcouIs’ PIGEONS.

RLY, 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 Coo, coo, my pigeons, when sleep my eyes leaves
With full golden grains, such morsels for you. I hear your soft murmurings under the eaves;
Fantail and pouter, white, brown, blue and grey, ‘And I’m not afraid in the darkness to be,

Nothing shall hurt you, or drive you away. 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 diff’rence, 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.





iy

@UT in the garden an old apple tree Alas ! alas! they were sour and green—

Stood, with its boughs wide-spread, ’ Indeed, not fit to eat.
Covered, in spring, with a delicate bloom, “T thought,” said Robin, ‘‘ when apples were ripe

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

Apples to roast, apples to stew, For I asked papa, and he told me so;
Apples for turnover pies, As big as a fist,” said he.
Dumplings, perhaps, will take a few, I really think that in one more week

But eat none green, if you’re wise. They ll be large enough, maybe.

Ellette and Robin played under the tree, They gathered a few and carried them in;
Watching the apples grow. “Mamma, what does it mean?
‘When they are big as my fist,” said Ellette, These apples are surely quite large enough,

“Then we can eat them, you know. But yet they are sour and green.







GOME â„¢O SUPPER.

[gITTLE birds are flying home;
Winds are softly blowing ;

it aan To lei

All along the evening sky
Rosy lights are glowing.

Standing in the stable yard,
Quiet cows are lowing; 3
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.

26



GOOD-IIGHTN,

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

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.

DOLLY.

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 patt’ring sound
Overhead so plain,

Do not think ’tis 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,





T was on a rainy morning
That the trouble came about.
For mamma said, “Little children,
‘Tis 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.



Fl QUARREL. >
See SSG 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,
And threw it on the floor,

And said, “You sha’ n’t have dolly,
You shall play with me some more.”



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.”

| DAKE
AND then down fell the tear-drops .
From Mabel’s big, blue eyes ;

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.





ok 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'll 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,
“T 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.





ao 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 yer 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 1.

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 1.

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.







PLAYING SGHOOL.

-A, ba, and b-e, be, ’Tis recess. Where is the bell?

Tell me, what does that spell ? Look at Baby Benny;

D-a, da, and d-e, de, He’s eating all the luncheon, Nell,
How do you spell hat, Nell? He'll not leave us any.

Class in spelling take their seats, Ting-a-ling! Now school is out,
Now, I'll hear your tables? Baby, what’s the matter?

And the very first that cheats Goodness! Johnnie, how you shout,
Takes that seat of Mabel’s. What a noise and clatter.



PuUAYING BALL.

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; O, 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, ’twould 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!









ae



@ REGLEGMED GHILD.
[BENEATH the tree, the leafy tree, And then a busy, buzzing bee
A sad, neglected dolly sat; Stopped for a moment on its way,

Her little mother, lost in thought, And asked the dolly where she lived,

Forgot her child, forgot her cat, And why she did not go and play;

Thought only of her fine, new hat. Then flew off with a kind “Good day.”
Poor, little dolly, she was sad, Around her, dandelions grew,

Although a friendly cricket came And daisies smiled and nodded near;
And chirped beside her in the grass. Sweet clover, too, showed white and red,

A little bird, too, grew so tame, And all of them said ‘“ Dolly, dear,

He whistled loud, and told his name. 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.

34





VE scarce would think that we could be Here’s Genevieve, and Wah-Sam-Sim,
@

All children of one family. ; Wee “Dotty Dimple” next in line;
We’re quite unlike, as you may see, ~ Then, in the middle, Limber Tim,

Yet all belong to Margery. 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.

NEGLECTED CHILD.—Continued.

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; So are the bees, and birds, and buds;
Minnie does not see us, at all. We all can have a good time, too.
We will not care; you talk to me, Some day, when Minnie is alone,

And let her lean against the wall; And wants to play, or talk to you,

What matters it if we are small? : We’ll go and hide, that’s what we’ll do.”

35







a QUEER HOUSE.

a HO will live in this great high house?”’

“T 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 ’ll 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.’’

36

“What will they do when they get in here?”
“The mother mousey will say, ‘My dear,
This is a house that was built for us,
So that we might hide away from 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.”



BLESS IM.

LESS it) bless at -bless"1t! Hold it, hold it, hold it,
How does mother dress it? In mamma’s arms fold it.
In little white frocks, Soon he’ll run about,
Little shoes and socks, Talk, and laugh, and shout.
And a little cap. Hold him while she can.
Kiss it! kiss it! kiss it! Love it, love it, love it,
How mamma will miss it Roses grow above it.
When the baby grows When my baby grows
Too big for all those, Tall as yonder rose,
And for mamma’s warm lap. He’ll be his mother’s man.







sf (@OCK-A-DOODLE-DOO !
Good morning, how are you?”
Said Mr. Buff to Mrs. Buff, one morning in
the spring.
‘Tis a very fine day ;
So please to walk this way,
And you ’ll see how nice a breakfast that little

girl will bring.

“ Cut-a-caw-caw-caw !”
Said Mrs. Buff; “I saw
The little girl go get some corn from out of
the bin;
So let us run quick,
And be the first to pick,
For it will all be gone if we do not soon

begin.

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

38

“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.

Mr. Brigham I’ll not tell,
For I know very well
He. will try to pick a fight with me the minute
that he can;
If any one prefers
Such very long spurs,
Why, let him do the fighting, I will choose

some other plan.”

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



SPHE 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.

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.







‘as sweet as the new-mown hay ?
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.

40



To be so glad that there is no school,
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.









ARTHUR'S LAMB.

OWN 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, 4
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.





FEEDING Puss.

]F 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.





LIMMLE GHIGKS.

©

; [sITTLE yellow chickens, Kept on ’till they numbered
Just like balls of down, Thirteen. Think of it!
Lulu, Bertha, Frank and Will Then, no doubt, Rosetta thought,

Have them for their own. I’ll begin to sit.

First, their hen, Rosetta, Carefully she covered

Laid an egg, and then, All her eggs so warm;
Next day, laid another— Watched them, scarcely leaving,

Such a busy hen. Lest they ’d come to harm.





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’ll 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.







PIGGY.

@ PIGGY-WIGGY-WIG,
2 You ’re very fat and big,
And you spend all your time at your meals,
they say
If I were you, I think
I would not eat and drink
So much that they’d turn

me into pork

some day.

What funny little eyes
For a creature of your size;
And your nose is as long as your tail, you
pig.
Do you always grunt and squeal
At your buttermilk and meal?

And when you see a pail nearly dance a:

jig?

46

You are not a pretty beast,
And I would not like to feast
On the apple cores and watermelon rinds you
use,
Upon sour milk and sops,
And ev’ry sort of slops.
But pigs, I like cannot

suppose, beggars,

choose.

Piggy-wig, fare you well.
This truth is sad to tell,
But I fear the next time 1 meet you, my
friend,
That you ’ll be feeding me,
For sausage meat you'll be,
And that is the way our acquaintance will

end.





GHE LuMTLe ARTIS.

‘“ ZiND 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. Don't you think it?

It’s all so discouraging, and Ill not try

To paint any more, but will be, by and bye,

A blacksmith, or milkman, because I don’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 ail 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.”

47

~~



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EVENING

YJ HEN 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.

PRAYER.

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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VERSES B

flmy-Ella-Blanchard-

WorTuinclon ©> NEW YorRK »

(Copyright 1890 by Worthington (yy:


DEDIGAMION,

WHERE 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.


e

“SEE How Smrone I Am.”

O strong are you, my baby? Then you can mail her letters,
I see that very plain; And run her errands, too ;
For you can hold above your head There is no end of all the things
Papa's big, heavy cane. 5 My baby soon will do.

Why, soon you can be lifting, You soon will be quite manly,
For your mamma, the chairs ; Too soon, mamma thinks, dear ;

Or bringing heavy books to her, For she ’d like to keep her baby °
Or helping her up-stairs. i Many, many a year.


GARE.

Me has gone for a moment,
And all the world is awry,

For it takes so very little

To make this baby cry.






DON’ GARE.

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.
6wo RAMELESS KIMMENS.

WO little kittens, quite aristocratic, “ Well,” said their mother, “blood will tell, I’m
Lived in a rummagy, cobwebbed attic. sure ; j
They were no commonplace cats, if you Such ambitious kittens show Maltese, pure.
please, Let me think, my dears, of some right good
But sleek-coated, fine-furred, thorough Malt- plan ;
ese. Now, keep very still, for I must and can.”
Said one to the other, “‘It is a shame Then, softly licking one little, grey kit,
That we two kittens have never a name. By the nape of the neck she picked up it,
We belong to no one, none belongs to us, And marched off grandly, came back for
Though 1’ve heard some call our mother the other,
‘Ma’am Puss.’”’ And laid it down gently beside its brother,
“ Hark!” said the other, “here mother comes On the bed of her mistress, Florence Flippet,
now, One on her muff, and one on her tippet,
We'll both of us set up a dismal meow. Then sat down, placidly washing her face,
If she boxes our ears, or gives a cuff, Well pleased that her kits were in a good
Or asks if we have n’t had food enough, place.
We'll tell her our grief is deeper than that, ‘I declare!” said Florence, “what is on my
We think it a shame that so proud a cat bed? :
Should have two children’ with no names, at A tail—paws—claws—and a little grey head,
all. 3 Two new kittens, as I live. I declare!
And then we will mew and cat-er-waul, I wonder who on earth could put them there.
Till she tells us how she came to be named. Oh, they ’re yours, Ma’am Puss; well, they
We will let her know that we feel ashamed.” are too sweet.
With a waving tail, and a stately tread, I will keep them both; to make them com-
In camie the mother cat, stopped short, and plete
said, Each shall have a ribbon, one red, one blue.
“What has happened, children, since I went Indeed, Ma’am Puss, I’m much obliged to you.
out? They shall have milk whenever they can sip it,
What in the world is this fuss about?” I'll call one Muff, and the other one Tippet.”
“©, mother, mother! we cannot be blamed ; Ma’am Puss winked slyly, not saying a word,
Tell-us, dear mother, why we are not named; Rubbed against her mistress, and softly
We are so ashamed, oh, what shall we do! purred.
Meow, meow! O, dear mother! Meow, That is all about it, for so, you see, it came
meow! Mew, mew!” These aristocratic kittens each had a name.



IN MISGHIEF.

FLOUR 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,
O, 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,

O, 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'll be frightened

Nearly out of your wits.


GRANDMA’S BABY.

jale 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 le

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.
Docs she cry? You would, were you sick.
Spoiled, you say? You think so, maybe.

But, you see, she’s Grandma’s baby.




©00 PREGIOUS.

OU want my dolly, Baby?
I really must say, No.
I love it quite too much, you see,

To ever let it go.

12

For now ’tis fresh and lovely,
But I’m afraid, my dear,
If once I let you have it,

*T would soon look very queer.
















MAMMY’S BABY.

IS chile? Why, bless you, honey !
She sutt’nly is dat sweet
You wouldn’t need no sugar,
Ef she was made to eat.

An’ smart! de smartes’ baby
Dere is in all dis town;

She got her toofies long befo’
Dat no count Hay’et Brown.

An’ loves her mammy, don’ she?
Law, bless de honey chile !
She know ez well ez I do
What makes her mammy smile.

She this go tug at mammy,
And try to pull her hyar,

An’ try to poke out mammy’s eyes,
But mammy ain’ gwine cyar.

Now tell de lady what yo name,
An’ den how big you is;
Now kiss yo hand to lady,
So she know how you's riz.

Now come with old Betheuk,
She gwine to take you home,
An’ may be you learn howdy
De nex time dat you come.
OW 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
bush,

Close to the fence, where tall weeds

oi push,

Chrno \

rs : fee Crowd through the rails, and climb
about.

But birdie saw the hen come out.

Under the south porch steps were



two,
For out of there old Top-knot flew,

_ She fussed, and clucked, and cackled |
= 50; |

_ That Birdie knew just where to go.



nd one lay down in Billy’s stall
mong the corn, and that was all.
How many were there? Let us see;

I?ll count with you, you count with



me,

First, four will go into a cake :
That old Aunt Phoebe wants to bake. |
The coffee one will clear; you know.
HUNTING FOR €66Gs, For. grandma’s breakfast two must go.
: Three in the muffins, add to seven,

And one is left—that’s just eleven.



14




Se 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-
lite

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 RUDE RABBI.









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
ride,

And they ’d look at him most scornfully, be-
cause he had no pride.

And when this little rabbit a full-grown rabbit
was, 5

He had to live all by himself, quite unbeloved,
because

He was so rude nobody cared to have him
within sight—

To think of what a difference, had he but been

polite.










SNOWDRIFMS.

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 prime,
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.

16


Kimmy-Gam.

ITTY-CAT, kitty-cat,
What are you looking at?
“At this little girl, Iam looking,” said she ;

“At this little girl, who is looking at me.”

Pussy-kit, pussy-kit,
What do you think of it?
“T 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.”




HE snow had fallen sottly
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?

-GHRISTMAS MORNING.

18



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.



























WHEN I am so tall
I’ll travel all over
The whole great, wide world,
New lands to discover ;
I’ll find the North Pole
And the Fortunate Isles ;
Into Africa then

I will travel for miles.

I will dive in the sea;

Ill 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’ll go, and Ill ride

A fine, mettled steed,
Some Arabian’s pride;

I’ll hunt and I'll shoot
A tiger and bear,

And some mighty lion

I’ll drive from its lair.

I’ll build me a palace
Of silver and gold,

@®WHEN | GM SO OALL And fill it with fine things
As full as ’t will hold;

The poor and the wretched,



I’ll give to them all.
O, how much I’ll do
When I am so tall.



aD)
A Row or

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.

20



BABIES.

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.
@©HE BUNTERFLY.

[7LITTING and flying, dipping and dancing, ‘‘ Where the dewdrops sparkle, where green leaves swing,

Butterfly, why do you roam ? : And make a roof o’er my bed, |

1s it because you have nothing to do, Near the Cricket’s Inn, and Grasshopper’s Lodge, |
Or that you’ve never a home? Is where I shelter my head. |

I know where the birds and the squirrels live, Just around the corner the wise owl lives, |
And where the brown bees abide, And the bats with wide wings fan

But never once have I caught you at home, The very door of my dwelling place, |
Pray tell me, where do you-hide?” You may find it now—if you can.”






FAIRY-©IME.

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 ev’rywhere
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.

22






LImmLE Goumy.

[giTTLE Colty, eating hay,
Tell me little colty, sav,
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.

23

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.
IcouIs’ PIGEONS.

RLY, 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 Coo, coo, my pigeons, when sleep my eyes leaves
With full golden grains, such morsels for you. I hear your soft murmurings under the eaves;
Fantail and pouter, white, brown, blue and grey, ‘And I’m not afraid in the darkness to be,

Nothing shall hurt you, or drive you away. 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 diff’rence, 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.


iy

@UT in the garden an old apple tree Alas ! alas! they were sour and green—

Stood, with its boughs wide-spread, ’ Indeed, not fit to eat.
Covered, in spring, with a delicate bloom, “T thought,” said Robin, ‘‘ when apples were ripe

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

Apples to roast, apples to stew, For I asked papa, and he told me so;
Apples for turnover pies, As big as a fist,” said he.
Dumplings, perhaps, will take a few, I really think that in one more week

But eat none green, if you’re wise. They ll be large enough, maybe.

Ellette and Robin played under the tree, They gathered a few and carried them in;
Watching the apples grow. “Mamma, what does it mean?
‘When they are big as my fist,” said Ellette, These apples are surely quite large enough,

“Then we can eat them, you know. But yet they are sour and green.




GOME â„¢O SUPPER.

[gITTLE birds are flying home;
Winds are softly blowing ;

it aan To lei

All along the evening sky
Rosy lights are glowing.

Standing in the stable yard,
Quiet cows are lowing; 3
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.

26
GOOD-IIGHTN,

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

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.

DOLLY.

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 patt’ring sound
Overhead so plain,

Do not think ’tis 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,


T was on a rainy morning
That the trouble came about.
For mamma said, “Little children,
‘Tis 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.



Fl QUARREL. >
See SSG 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,
And threw it on the floor,

And said, “You sha’ n’t have dolly,
You shall play with me some more.”
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.”

| DAKE
AND then down fell the tear-drops .
From Mabel’s big, blue eyes ;

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.


ok 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'll 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,
“T 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.


ao 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 yer 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 1.

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 1.

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.




PLAYING SGHOOL.

-A, ba, and b-e, be, ’Tis recess. Where is the bell?

Tell me, what does that spell ? Look at Baby Benny;

D-a, da, and d-e, de, He’s eating all the luncheon, Nell,
How do you spell hat, Nell? He'll not leave us any.

Class in spelling take their seats, Ting-a-ling! Now school is out,
Now, I'll hear your tables? Baby, what’s the matter?

And the very first that cheats Goodness! Johnnie, how you shout,
Takes that seat of Mabel’s. What a noise and clatter.
PuUAYING BALL.

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; O, 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, ’twould 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!






ae



@ REGLEGMED GHILD.
[BENEATH the tree, the leafy tree, And then a busy, buzzing bee
A sad, neglected dolly sat; Stopped for a moment on its way,

Her little mother, lost in thought, And asked the dolly where she lived,

Forgot her child, forgot her cat, And why she did not go and play;

Thought only of her fine, new hat. Then flew off with a kind “Good day.”
Poor, little dolly, she was sad, Around her, dandelions grew,

Although a friendly cricket came And daisies smiled and nodded near;
And chirped beside her in the grass. Sweet clover, too, showed white and red,

A little bird, too, grew so tame, And all of them said ‘“ Dolly, dear,

He whistled loud, and told his name. 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.

34


VE scarce would think that we could be Here’s Genevieve, and Wah-Sam-Sim,
@

All children of one family. ; Wee “Dotty Dimple” next in line;
We’re quite unlike, as you may see, ~ Then, in the middle, Limber Tim,

Yet all belong to Margery. 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.

NEGLECTED CHILD.—Continued.

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; So are the bees, and birds, and buds;
Minnie does not see us, at all. We all can have a good time, too.
We will not care; you talk to me, Some day, when Minnie is alone,

And let her lean against the wall; And wants to play, or talk to you,

What matters it if we are small? : We’ll go and hide, that’s what we’ll do.”

35




a QUEER HOUSE.

a HO will live in this great high house?”’

“T 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 ’ll 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.’’

36

“What will they do when they get in here?”
“The mother mousey will say, ‘My dear,
This is a house that was built for us,
So that we might hide away from 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.”
BLESS IM.

LESS it) bless at -bless"1t! Hold it, hold it, hold it,
How does mother dress it? In mamma’s arms fold it.
In little white frocks, Soon he’ll run about,
Little shoes and socks, Talk, and laugh, and shout.
And a little cap. Hold him while she can.
Kiss it! kiss it! kiss it! Love it, love it, love it,
How mamma will miss it Roses grow above it.
When the baby grows When my baby grows
Too big for all those, Tall as yonder rose,
And for mamma’s warm lap. He’ll be his mother’s man.




sf (@OCK-A-DOODLE-DOO !
Good morning, how are you?”
Said Mr. Buff to Mrs. Buff, one morning in
the spring.
‘Tis a very fine day ;
So please to walk this way,
And you ’ll see how nice a breakfast that little

girl will bring.

“ Cut-a-caw-caw-caw !”
Said Mrs. Buff; “I saw
The little girl go get some corn from out of
the bin;
So let us run quick,
And be the first to pick,
For it will all be gone if we do not soon

begin.

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

38

“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.

Mr. Brigham I’ll not tell,
For I know very well
He. will try to pick a fight with me the minute
that he can;
If any one prefers
Such very long spurs,
Why, let him do the fighting, I will choose

some other plan.”

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

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.




‘as sweet as the new-mown hay ?
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.

40



To be so glad that there is no school,
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.



ARTHUR'S LAMB.

OWN 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, 4
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.


FEEDING Puss.

]F 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.


LIMMLE GHIGKS.

©

; [sITTLE yellow chickens, Kept on ’till they numbered
Just like balls of down, Thirteen. Think of it!
Lulu, Bertha, Frank and Will Then, no doubt, Rosetta thought,

Have them for their own. I’ll begin to sit.

First, their hen, Rosetta, Carefully she covered

Laid an egg, and then, All her eggs so warm;
Next day, laid another— Watched them, scarcely leaving,

Such a busy hen. Lest they ’d come to harm.


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’ll 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.




PIGGY.

@ PIGGY-WIGGY-WIG,
2 You ’re very fat and big,
And you spend all your time at your meals,
they say
If I were you, I think
I would not eat and drink
So much that they’d turn

me into pork

some day.

What funny little eyes
For a creature of your size;
And your nose is as long as your tail, you
pig.
Do you always grunt and squeal
At your buttermilk and meal?

And when you see a pail nearly dance a:

jig?

46

You are not a pretty beast,
And I would not like to feast
On the apple cores and watermelon rinds you
use,
Upon sour milk and sops,
And ev’ry sort of slops.
But pigs, I like cannot

suppose, beggars,

choose.

Piggy-wig, fare you well.
This truth is sad to tell,
But I fear the next time 1 meet you, my
friend,
That you ’ll be feeding me,
For sausage meat you'll be,
And that is the way our acquaintance will

end.


GHE LuMTLe ARTIS.

‘“ ZiND 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. Don't you think it?

It’s all so discouraging, and Ill not try

To paint any more, but will be, by and bye,

A blacksmith, or milkman, because I don’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 ail 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.”

47

~~
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1
f
fs

7

EVENING

YJ HEN 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.

PRAYER.

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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