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diff --git a/old/69302-0.txt b/old/69302-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 505325e..0000000 --- a/old/69302-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5512 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Land of play, by Sara Tawney Lefferts - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Land of play - Verses, rhymes, stories - -Editor: Sara Tawney Lefferts - -Illustrators: M. L. Kirk - Florence England Nosworthy - -Release Date: November 6, 2022 [eBook #69302] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LAND OF PLAY *** - - - - - - -[Illustration: THEIR FIRST KISS] - - - - - Land _of_ Play - - Verses—Rhymes—Stories - - _Selected by_ - Sara Tawney Lefferts - - _Illustrated by_ - M. L. Kirk & Florence England Nosworthy - - [Illustration] - - New York - Cupples & Leon Company - - Copyright, 1911, by - CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY - - Printed in U.S.A. - - - - -ACKNOWLEDGMENTS - - -Acknowledgment is due the following publishers and authors, for their -courteous permission to use material on which they hold copyright: - -Houghton, Mifflin & Co., for permission to use “Hiawatha’s Childhood,” -“The Heights by Great Men Reached,” by Henry W. Longfellow; “Barefoot -Boy,” by John G. Whittier; “Chippy Chirio,” by John Burroughs; “What the -Winds Bring,” by Edmund Clarence Stedman; “Fable,” “Duty,” by Emerson; -“The Brown Thrush,” by Lucy Larcom; “April,” by Alice Cary. - -The Century Co., for permission to use “The Little Elf,” by John Kendrick -Bangs. - -Small, Maynard & Co., for permission to use “The Tax Gatherer,” by John -B. Tabb. - -Harper & Brothers, for permission to use “A Child’s Laughter,” from The -Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne. - -Little, Brown & Co., for permission to use “The Swallow,” “There’s -Nothing Like the Rose,” by Christina G. Rossetti; “Boys and Girls,” by -Louisa M. Alcott. - -Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., for permission to use “Follow Me,” by Eliza -Lee Follen. - -New England Publishing Co., for permission to use “Our Mother,” from The -American Primary Teacher. - -The Reilly & Britton Co., for permission to use “The Christmas Stocking,” -by L. Frank Baum (copy. 1905). - -Sarah J. Day, for permission to use “Buttercups,” from “Mayflowers to -Mistletoe” (G. P. Putnam’s Sons). - -Kate Upson Clark, for permission to use “Charlie’s Story,” “Marjorie’s -Bath,” “Good Listening.” - -Good Housekeeping Magazine, for permission to use “A Dutch Lullaby,” “A -Dutch Winter,” by Ella Broes van Heekeren. - -Newson & Co., for permission to reprint “A Story of Washington.” - -Charles Scribner’s Sons, for permission to use “Extremes,” by James -Whitcomb Riley, from “The Book of Joyous Children”; “My Ship and I,” -“The Little Land,” from “A Child’s Garden of Verses,” by Robert Louis -Stevenson, and “The Duel,” by Eugene Field. - - - - - I have just to shut my eyes - To go sailing through the skies— - To go sailing far away - To the pleasant Land of Play. - - —_Robert Louis Stevenson._ - -Knowing how much good books are enjoyed by those who travel through what -Stevenson calls “The Land of Play,” it has been a pleasure to select -from the verse and prose of our best writers, old and new, the contents -of this pictured volume for “The Little People,” and perchance for some -older traveller who may wish to be,— - - “A sailor on the rain-pool sea, - A climber in the clover tree; - And just come back a sleepy-head, - Late at night to go to bed.” - - —_S. T. L._ - - - - -HIE AWAY. - - -[Illustration] - - Hie away, hie away! - Over bank and over brae, - Where the copsewood is the greenest, - Where the fountains glisten sheenest, - Where the lady fern grows strongest, - Where the morning dew lies longest, - Over bank and over brae, - Hie away, hie away! - - —_Sir Walter Scott._ - - - - -CHARLIE’S STORY. - - - I was sitting in the twilight, - With my Charlie on my knee,— - Little two-year-old, forever - Teasing, “Talk a ’tory p’ease to me.” - “Now,” I said, “talk _me_ a ’tory.” - “Well,” all smiles,—“now, I will ’mence. - Mamma, I did see a kitty,— - Great—big—kitty,—on the fence.” - - Mamma smiles. Five little fingers - Cover up her laughing lips. - “Is ’oo laughing?” “Yes,” I tell him, - But I kiss the finger-tips; - And I beg him tell another. - “Well,” reflectively, “I’ll ’mence. - Mamma, I did see a doggie,— - Great—big—doggie,—on the fence.” - - “Rather similar,—your stories,— - Aren’t they, dear?” A sober look - Swept across the pretty forehead; - Then he sudden courage took. - “But I know a nice, new ’tory,— - ’Plendid mamma! Hear me ’mence. - Mamma, I did see a elfunt,— - Great—big—elfunt,—on a fence.” - - —_Kate Upson Clark._ - - - - -_Old King Cole._ - - -[Illustration] - - Old King Cole - Was a merry old soul, - And a merry old soul was he; - -[Illustration] - - He called for his pipe, - And he called for his bowl, - And he called for his fiddlers three. - - Every fiddler, he had a fiddle, - And a very fine fiddle had he; - Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers. - - Oh, there’s none so rare, - As can compare - With King Cole and his fiddlers three! - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Rub-a-Dub-Dub._ - - - Rub-a-dub-dub, - Three men in a tub, - And who do you think they be? - The butcher, the baker, - The candlestick-maker; - Turn ’em out, knaves all three! - - - - -_There Was a Little Man._ - - - There was a little man, and he had a little gun, - And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; - He went to the brook, and saw a little duck, - And shot it through the head, head, head. - - He carried it home to his old wife Joan, - And bade her a fire to make, make, make, - To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook, - And he’d go and fetch the drake, drake, drake. - - - - -_Fiddle-de-dee._ - - - Fiddle-de-dee, fiddle-de-dee, - The fly shall marry the humble-bee, - They went to the church, and married was she, - The fly has married the humble-bee. - - - - -SEVEN TIMES ONE. - - -[Illustration] - - There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover, - There’s no rain left in heaven; - I’ve said my “seven times” over and over— - Seven times one are seven. - - I am old! so old I can write a letter; - My birthday lessons are done; - The lambs play always, they know no better; - They are only one time one. - - Oh, moon! in the night I have seen you sailing, - And shining so round and low; - You were bright! Ah, bright! but your light is failing; - You are nothing now but a bow. - - You Moon! have you done something wrong in heaven, - That God has hidden your face? - I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven, - And shine again in your place. - - O, velvet Bee! you’re a dusty fellow, - You’ve powdered your legs with gold; - O, brave marsh Mary-buds, rich and yellow! - Give me your money to hold. - - O, Columbine! open your folded wrapper - Where two twin turtle-doves dwell; - O, Cuckoo-pint! toll me the purple clapper, - That hangs in your clear green bell. - - And show me your nest with the young ones in it— - I will not steal them away; - I am old! you must trust me, Linnet, Linnet— - I am seven times one to-day. - - —_Jean Ingelow._ - - - - -GOING INTO BREECHES. - - - Joy to Philip! he this day - Has his long coats cast away, - And (the childish season gone) - Put the manly breeches on. - - Sashes, frocks, to those that need ’em, - Philip’s limbs have got their freedom— - He can run, or he can ride, - And do twenty things beside. - Which his petticoats forbade; - Is he not a happy lad? - - Baste-the-bear he now may play at; - Leap-frog, foot-ball sport away at; - Show his skill and strength at cricket, - Mark his distance, pitch his wicket; - Run about in winter’s snow - Till his cheeks and fingers glow; - Climb a tree or scale a wall, - Without any fear to fall. - This and more must now be done, - Now the breeches are put on. - - —_Charles and Mary Lamb._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -MR. PEGGOTTY’S HOUSE. - - -I had known Mr. Peggotty’s quaint house very well in my childhood, and -I am sure I could not have been more charmed with it if it had been -Aladdin’s palace, roc’s egg and all. It was an old black barge or boat, -high and dry on Yarmouth sands, with an iron funnel sticking out of it -for a chimney. There was a delightful door cut in the side, and it was -roofed in, and there were little windows in it. It was beautifully clean, -and as tidy as possible. There were some lockers and boxes, and there was -a table, and there was a Dutch clock, and there was a chest of drawers, -and there was a tea-tray with a painting on it, and the tray was kept -from tumbling down by a Bible, and the tray if it _had_ tumbled down, -would have Smashed a quantity of cups and saucers and a tea-pot that were -grouped around the book. - -On the walls were colored pictures of Abraham in red going to sacrifice -Isaac in blue, and of Daniel in yellow being cast into a den of roaring -green lions. Over the little mantleshelf was a picture of the “Sarah -Jane” lugger, built at Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck -on it—a work of Art combining composition with carpentry, which I had -regarded in my childhood as one of the most enviable possessions the -world could afford. - - —_Charles Dickens._ - - _From the author’s condensation of David Copperfield._ - - - - -_Buff says Buff._ - - - Buff says Buff to all his men, - And I say Buff to you again; - Buff neither laughs nor smiles, - But carries his face - With a very good grace, - And passes the stick to the very next place! - - - - -_Hark, hark! the Dogs do Bark!_ - - -[Illustration] - - Hark, hark! - The dogs do bark, - The beggars are coming to town; - Some in rags, - Some in jags, - And some in velvet gowns. - - - - -APRIL. - - -[Illustration] - - The wild and windy March once more - Has closed his gates of sleep, - And given us back our April time, - So fickle and so sweet. - - Now blighting with our fears—our hopes, - Now kindling hopes with fears— - Now softly weeping through the smiles, - Now smiling through the tears. - - —_Alice Cary._ - - - - -THE TABLE AND THE CHAIR. - - - I. - - Said the Table to the Chair, - “You can hardly be aware, - How I suffer from the heat, - And from chilblains on my feet. - If we took a little walk, - We might have a little talk; - Pray let us take the air,” - Said the Table to the Chair. - - II. - - Said the Chair unto the Table, - “Now you _know_ we are not able: - How foolishly you talk, - When you know we _cannot_ walk!” - Said the Table with a sigh, - “It can do no harm to try. - I’ve as many legs as you: - Why can’t we walk on two?” - - III. - - So they both went slowly down, - And walked about the town, - With a cheerful bumpy sound, - As they toddled round and round; - And everybody cried, - As they hastened to their side, - “See! the Table and the Chair!” - - IV. - - But in going down an alley, - To a castle in a valley, - They completely lost their way, - And wandered all the day; - Till, to see them safely back, - They paid a Ducky-quack, - And a Beetle, and a Mouse, - Who took them to their house. - - V. - - Then they whispered to each other, - “O, delightful little brother, - What a lovely walk we’ve taken! - Let us dine on beans and bacon.” - So the Ducky and the leetle - Browny-Mousy and the Beetle - Dined, and danced upon their heads - Till they toddled to their beds. - - —_Edward Lear._ - - - - -_Tom, Tom._ - - -[Illustration] - - Tom, Tom, the piper’s son, - Stole a pig and away he run! - The pig was eat, and Tom was beat, - And Tom went roaring down the street. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Eye Winker, Tom Tinker._ - - - Eye winker, - Tom tinker, - Nose dropper, - Mouth eater, - Chin chopper, - Chin chopper. - - - - -THE BRAVE BROTHER. - - - I was scared almost to death - When I heard my sister Beth - Screeching loud and crying. - But I ran and took a stick, - And I tell you, pretty quick, - I had taught our goose a trick, - And had sent him flying. - - Girls are always frightened stiff, - Just as sister Beth was, if - That cross, ugly gander - Flies across the garden fence. - And they always will commence - Screaming,—’stead of having sense - And showing out some dander. - - I made believe, with all my might, - He was a dragon, dressed in white, - With his fiery red mouth grinning,— - Like that one mother read about, - That old St. George marched forth and fought, - And beat and killed him out and out - Almost in the beginning. - - And once I heard my father say, - “It’s pretty sure to be the way, - When you’re awful frightened, - If you fight till you’re ’most dead, - Bravely, you’ll come out ahead;” - But sister told me mother said, - “You might,—and then you mightn’t!” - - —_Lillian Howard Cort._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - You’d scarce expect one of my age - To speak in public or on the stage; - And if I chance to fall below - Demosthenes or Cicero, - Don’t view me with a critic’s eye, - But pass my imperfections by. - Large streams from little fountains flow, - Tall oaks from little acorns grow. - - —_David Everett._ - - - - -THERE’S NOTHING LIKE THE ROSE. - - -[Illustration] - - The lily has an air, - And the snowdrop a grace, - And the sweet-pea a way, - And the heart’s-ease a face— - Yet there’s nothing like the rose - When it blows. - - —_Christina G. Rossetti._ - - - - -A CONTEST BETWEEN NOSE AND EYES - - - Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose. - The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; - The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, - To which the sad spectacles ought to belong. - - So Tongue was the lawyer and argued the cause - With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; - While Chief-Baron Ear sat to balance the laws, - So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. - - “In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, - And your lordship,” he said, “will undoubtedly find - That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, - Which amounts to possession time out of mind.” - - Then holding the spectacles up to the Court— - “Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, - As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, - Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. - - “Again, would your lordship a moment suppose - (’Tis a case that has happened, and may be again), - That the visage or countenance had not a nose, - Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? - - “On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, - With a reasoning the Court will never condemn, - That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, - And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.” - - Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how), - He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; - But what were his arguments few people know, - For the Court did not think they were equally wise. - - So his lordship decreed with a brave solemn tone, - Decisive and clear, without one if or but— - “That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, - By daylight or candlelight—Eyes should be shut!” - - —_William Cowper._ - - - - -To err is human, to forgive divine. - - —_Alexander Pope._ - - - - - The man that hails you Tom or Jack, - And proves by thumping on your back, - His sense of your great merit, - Is such a friend that one had need - Be very much his friend, indeed, - To pardon or to bear it. - - —_William Cowper._ - - - - -[Illustration: Out in the Cold.] - - - - -_The Old Woman and Her Pig._ - - -[Illustration] - -An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked -sixpence. “What,” said she, “shall I do with this little sixpence? I will -go to market, and buy a little pig.” As she was coming home, she came to -a stile; the piggy would not go over the stile. - -She went a little farther, and she met a dog. So she said to the dog— - - “Dog, dog, bite pig; - Piggy won’t get over the stile; - And I shan’t get home to-night.” - -But the dog would not. - -She went a little farther, and she met a stick. So she said— - -[Illustration] - - “Stick, stick, beat dog; - Dog won’t bite pig; - Piggy won’t get over the stile; - And I shan’t get home to-night.” - -But the stick would not. She went a little farther, and she met a fire. -So she said— - - “Fire, fire, burn stick; - Stick won’t beat dog; - Dog won’t bite pig; - Piggy won’t get over the stile; - And I shan’t get home to-night.” - -But the fire would not. - -[Illustration] - -She went a little farther, and she met some water. So she said— - - “Water, water, quench fire; - Fire won’t burn stick;” etc. - -But the water would not. - -[Illustration] - -She went a little farther, and she met an ox. So she said— - - “Ox, ox, drink water; - Water won’t quench fire;” etc. - -But the ox would not. - -She went a little farther, and she met a butcher. So she said— - - “Butcher, butcher, kill ox; - Ox won’t drink water;” etc. - -But the butcher would not. She went a little farther, and she met a rope. -So she said— - - “Rope, rope, hang butcher; - Butcher won’t kill ox;” etc. - -But the rope would not. She went a little farther, and she met a rat. So -she said— - - “Rat, rat, gnaw rope; - Rope won’t hang butcher;” etc. - -But the rat would not. - -[Illustration] - -She went a little farther, and she met a cat. So she said— - - “Cat, cat, kill rat; - Rat won’t gnaw rope;” etc. - -But the cat said to her, “If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a -saucer of milk, I will kill the rat.” So away went the old woman to the -cow, and said— - - “Cow, cow, give me a saucer of milk; - Cat won’t kill rat;” etc. - -But the cow said to her, “If you will go to yonder haymakers, and fetch -me a wisp of hay, I’ll give you the milk.” So away went the old woman to -the haymakers, and said— - - “Haymakers, give me a wisp of hay; - Cow won’t give me milk;” etc. - -[Illustration] - -But the haymakers said to her, “If you will go to yonder stream, and -fetch us a bucket of water, we’ll give you the hay.” So away the old -woman went; but when she got to the stream, she found the bucket was full -of holes. So she covered the bottom with pebbles, and then filled the -bucket with water, and away she went back with it to the haymakers; and -they gave her a wisp of hay. As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she -gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with it in a saucer to the -cat. As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk— - - The cat began to kill the rat; - The rat began to gnaw the rope; - The rope began to hang the butcher; - The butcher began to kill the ox; - The ox began to drink the water; - The water began to quench the fire; - The fire began to burn the stick; - The stick began to beat the dog; - The dog began to bite the pig; - The little pig in a fright jumped over the stile; - And so the old woman got home that night. - - - - -_As Tommy Snooks._ - - - As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks - Were walking out one Sunday, - Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks, - “To-morrow will be Monday.” - - - - -_As Tittymouse sat._ - - - As Tittymouse sat in the witty to spin, - Pussy came to her and bid her good e’en. - “Oh, what are you doing, my little ’oman?” - “A-spinning a doublet for my gude man.” - “Then shall I come to thee and wind up thy thread?” - “Oh, no, Mr. Puss, you will bite off my head.” - - - - -THE BROWN THRUSH. - - -[Illustration] - - There’s a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree. - He’s singing to me! He’s singing to me! - And what does he say, little girl, little boy? - “Oh, the world’s running over with joy! - Don’t you hear? Don’t you see? - Hush! Look! In my tree - I’m as happy as happy can be!” - - And the brown thrush keeps singing, “A nest do you see - And five eggs, hid by me in the juniper? - Don’t meddle! Don’t touch! little girl, little boy, - Or the world will lose some of its joy! - Now I’m glad! Now I’m free! - And I always shall be, - If you never bring sorrow to me.” - - So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, - To you and to me, to you and to me; - And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, - “O, the world’s running over with joy!” - But long it won’t be, - Don’t you know? Don’t you see? - Unless we’re as good as can be. - - —_Lucy Larcom._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -The best doctors in the world are Doctor Diet, Doctor Quiet, and Doctor -Merryman. - - —_Dean Swift._ - - - - -OUR MOTHER. - - -[Illustration] - - Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky, - Hundreds of shells in the shore together, - Hundreds of birds that go singing by, - Hundreds of birds in the sunny weather. - - Hundreds of dew drops to greet the dawn, - Hundreds of bees in the purple clover, - Hundreds of butterflys on the lawn, - But only one mother the wide world over. - - —_Unknown._ - - - - -A LOBSTER QUADRILLE. - - - “Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, - “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.” - See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! - They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance? - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance? - - “You can really have no notion how delightful it will be - When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!” - But the snail replied, “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance— - Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. - Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. - Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. - - “What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied, - “There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.” - The further off from England, the nearer is to France— - Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance? - - —_Lewis Carroll._ - - - - -THE TAX-GATHERER. - - - “And pray, who are you?” - Said the violet blue - To the Bee, with surprise - At his wonderful size, - In her eye-glass of dew. - - “I, madam,” quoth he, - “Am a publican Bee, - Collecting the tax - Of honey and wax. - Have you nothing for me?” - - —_John B. Tabb._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE BAREFOOT BOY. - - -[Illustration] - - Blessings on thee, little man, - Barefoot boy with cheek of tan! - With thy turned-up pantaloons, - And thy merry whistled tunes; - With thy red lips, redder still - Kissed by strawberries on the hill; - With the sunshine on thy face, - Through thy torn brims jaunty grace: - From my heart I give thee joy— - I was once a barefoot boy! - Prince thou art—the grown-up man - Only is republican. - Let the million-dollared ride! - Barefoot, trudging at his side, - Thou hast more than he can buy - In the reach of ear and eye— - Outward sunshine, inward joy: - Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! - - O, for boyhood’s painless play, - Sleep that wakes in laughing day, - Health that mocks the doctor’s rules, - Knowledge never learned of schools, - Of the wild bees’ morning chase, - Of the wild-flower’s time and place, - Flight of fowl and habitude - Of the tenants of the wood; - How the tortoise bears his shell, - How the woodchuck digs his cell - And the ground-mole sinks his well; - How the robin feeds her young, - How the oriole’s nest is hung; - Where the whitest lilies blow, - Where the freshest berries grow, - Where the groundnut trails its vine, - Where the wood-grapes’ clusters shine; - Of the black wasp’s cunning way, - Mason of his walls of clay, - And the architectural plans - Of gray hornet artisans! - For eschewing books and tasks, - Nature answers all he asks; - Hand in hand with her he walks, - Face to face with her he talks, - Part and parcel of her joy— - Blessings on the barefoot boy. - - O, for boyhood’s time of June, - Crowding years in one brief moon, - When all things I heard or saw, - Me, their master, waited, for - I was rich in flowers and trees, - Humming birds and honey-bees; - For my sport the squirrel played, - Plied the snouted mole his spade; - For my taste the blackberry cone - Purpled over hedge and stone; - Laughed the brook for my delight, - Through the day and through the night, - Whispering at the garden wall, - Talked with me from fall to fall; - Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, - Mine the walnut slopes beyond, - Mine, on bending orchard trees, - Apples of Hesperides! - Still as my horizon grew, - Larger grew my riches, too; - All the world I saw and knew - Seemed a complex Chinese toy, - Fashioned for a barefoot boy! - - O, for festal dainties spread, - Like my bowl of milk and bread— - Pewter spoon and bowl of wood, - On the door-stone, gray and rude— - O’er me like a regal tent, - Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, - Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, - Looped in many a wind-swung fold; - While for music came the play - Of the pied frogs’ orchestra; - And, to light the noisy choir, - Lit the fly his lamps of fire. - I was monarch; pomp and joy - Waited on the barefoot boy! - - Cheerily, then, my little man, - Live and laugh, as boyhood can! - Though the flinty slopes be hard, - Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, - Every morn shall lead thee through - Fresh baptisms of the dew; - Every evening from thy feet - Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: - All too soon these feet must hide - In the prison cells of pride, - Lose the freedom of the sod, - Like a colt’s for work be shod, - Made to tread the mills of toil, - Up and down in ceaseless moil: - Happy if their track be found - Never on forbidden ground; - Happy if they sink not in - Quick and treacherous sands of sin: - Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy, - Ere it passes, barefoot boy! - - —_John Greenleaf Whittier._ - - - - -A STORY OF WASHINGTON. - - -[Illustration] - -During the Revolutionary War, the corporal of a little band of soldiers -was giving orders about a heavy beam which they were trying to raise to -the top of the wall. It was almost too heavy for them, and the voice of -the corporal was often heard shouting, “Heave away! There it goes! Heave -ho!” - -A man in citizen’s clothes was passing, and asked the corporal why he did -not help them. Very much astonished, the corporal replied, with the pomp -of an emperor, “Sir, I am a corporal!” - -“You are, are you?” replied the stranger; “I was not aware of that,” and -taking off his hat he bowed, saying, “I ask your pardon, Mr. Corporal.” - -Upon this he put his shoulder to the beam and pulled until the sweat -stood on his forehead. When the beam was right, he turned to the -corporal, saying, “Mr. Corporal, when you have another such job and have -not men enough, send for your commander-in-chief, and I shall gladly come -to help you a second time.” - -The corporal was thunderstruck. It was Washington. - - - - -_There Was a Fat Man of Bombay._ - - - There was a fat man of Bombay, - Who was smoking one sunshiny day, - When a bird, called a snipe, - Flew away with his pipe, - Which vexed the fat man of Bombay. - - - - -_Sing a Song of Sixpence._ - - - Sing a song of sixpence, - A pocket full of rye; - Four and twenty blackbirds - Baked in a pie; - - When the pie was opened, - The birds began to sing; - Was not that a dainty dish - To set before the king? - - The king was in the parlour - Counting, out his money; - The queen was in the kitchen, - Eating bread and honey; - - The maid was in the garden, - Hanging out the clothes; - There came a little blackbird, - And snipped off her nose. - -[Illustration] - - - - -EPITAPH ON A FREE BUT TAME REDBREAST. - - - These are not dewdrops, these are tears, - And tears by Sally shed, - For absent Robin, who she fears, - With too much cause, is dead. - - One morn he came not to her hand - As he was wont to come, - And, on her finger perch’d, to stand - Picking his breakfast crumb. - - Alarm’d, she called him, and perplex’d, - She sought him, but in vain; - That day he came not, nor the next, - Nor ever came again. - - She therefore raised him here a tomb, - Though where he fell, or how, - None knows, so secret was his doom, - Nor where he moulders now. - - Had half a score of coxcombs died - In social Robin’s stead, - Poor Sally’s tears had soon been dried - Or haply never shed. - - But Bob was neither rudely bold - Nor spiritlessly tame; - Nor was, like theirs, his bosom cold, - But always in a flame. - - —_William Cowper._ - - - - -SLOTH MAKES ALL THINGS DIFFICULT. - - -Sloth makes all things difficult; but Industry, all easy; and he that -rises late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at -night; while Laziness travels so slowly that Poverty soon overtakes him. - - —_Benjamin Franklin._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - The year’s at the Spring, - The day’s at the morn; - Morning’s at seven; - The hillside’s dew-pearled; - The lark’s on the wing; - The snail’s on the thorn; - God’s in His heaven— - All’s right with the world! - - —_Robert Browning._ - - - - -_Humpty Dumpty._ - - -[Illustration] - - Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. - Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; - Threescore men and threescore more - Cannot place Humpty Dumpty as he was before. - - - - -_Hot-Cross Buns!_ - - - Hot-cross buns! - Hot-cross buns! - One a penny, two a penny, - Hot-cross buns! - - Hot-cross buns! - Hot-cross buns! - If ye have no daughters, - Give them to your sons. - - - - -MY BLUE-EYED BABY BOY. - - - You ask me why I’m smiling so, - When every stock and bond is low; - Why my heart seems full, and running o’er with joy. - Can’t you guess the reason, say? - I am sure ’tis plain as day— - I’ve been romping with my blue-eyed baby boy. - - Though I faint beneath my cares, - And my wheat seems full of tares, - I can still have fullest peace without alloy; - For in the twilight gloam, - I shall hasten to my home, - And be greeted by my blue-eyed baby boy. - - Let the morbid fellow groan, - In a melancholy tone, - Seeing only thorns and thistles that annoy; - Missing all the roses nigh, - And not once suspecting why— - He has never had a blue-eyed baby boy. - - —_Ellen Brannan Tawney._ - - - - -[Illustration: The Nursery Express.] - - - - -PLAYING TABLEAUX. - - - Mother dressed us up for tableaux, - Little Cousin Lu and me; - And I heard the people saying, - We were cute as we could be! - Maybe Lu looked rather pretty, - But a boy dressed up like that, - With a great long coat around him, - And his Father’s new silk hat, - - Feels like running off and hiding; - And I would have done it, too, - If I hadn’t promised Mother, - I would be as good as Lu. - Lu was dressed in shining satin, - With a veil fixed on her head, - Just like Aunt Lucille last summer, - When she married Uncle Ned. - - But I mean to marry Mother, - When I’ve grown up big and strong; - I was six years old last Sunday, - So it won’t take very long. - When I told her all about it, - She just laughed and shook her head, - “When you’re quite grown up, my laddie, - You’ll ask someone else instead.” - - —_Lillian Howard Cork._ - - - - -_Old Mother Hubbard._ - - -[Illustration] - - Old Mother Hubbard - Went to the cupboard, - To get her poor dog a bone; - But when she came there, - The cupboard was bare, - And so the poor dog had none. - - She went to the baker’s - To buy him some bread; - But when she came back, - The poor dog was dead. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the joiner’s - To buy him a coffin; - But when she came back, - The poor dog was laughing. - -[Illustration] - - She took a clean dish - To get him some tripe; - But when she came back, - He was smoking his pipe. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the fishmonger’s - To buy him some fish; - And when she came back, - He was licking the dish. - - She went to the ale-house - To get him some beer; - But when she came back, - The dog sat in a chair. - - She went to the tavern - For white wine and red; - But when she came back, - The dog stood on his head. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the hatter’s - To buy him a hat; - But when she came back, - He was feeding the cat. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the barber’s - To buy him a wig; - But when she came back, - He was dancing a jig. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the fruiterer’s - To buy him some fruit; - But when she came back, - He was playing the flute. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the tailor’s - To buy him a coat; - But when she came back, - He was riding a goat. - -[Illustration] - - She went to the cobbler’s - To buy him some shoes; - But when she came back, - He was reading the news. - - She went to the seamstress - To buy him some linen; - But when she came back, - The dog was spinning. - - She went to the hosier’s - To buy him some hose; - But when she came back, - He was dressed in his clothes. - -[Illustration] - - The dame made a curtsey, - The dog made a bow; - The dame said, “Your servant,” - The dog said, “Bow, wow.” - - This wonderful Dog - Was Dame Hubbard’s delight; - He could sing, he could dance, - He could read, he could write. - - She gave him rich dainties - Whenever he fed, - And erected a monument - When he was dead. - - - - -_Here am I._ - - -[Illustration] - - Here am I, little jumping Joan. - When nobody’s with me, I’m always alone. - - - - -_Hurly, Burly._ - - - Hurly, burly, trumpet trase, - The cow was in the market-place. - Some goes far, and some goes near, - But where shall this poor henchman steer? - - - - -_I Went up One Pair of Stairs._ - - - 1. I went up one pair of stairs. Just like me. - 2. I went up two pair of stairs. Just like me. - 3. I went into a room. Just like me. - 4. I looked out of a window. Just like me. - 5. And there I saw a monkey. Just like me. - - - - -_Elsie Marley._ - - - Elsie Marley has grown so fine - She won’t get up to feed the swine; - She lies in bed till half-past nine— - Ay! truly she doth take her time. - - - - -WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY? - - - What does little birdie say, - In her nest at peep of day? - “Let me fly,” says little birdie, - “Mother, let me fly away.” - - Birdie, rest a little longer, - Till the little wings are stronger. - So she rests a little longer, - Then she flies away. - - What does little baby say, - In her bed at peep of day? - Baby says, like little birdie, - “Let me rise and fly away.” - - Baby, sleep a little longer, - Till the little limbs are stronger. - If she sleeps a little longer, - Baby, too shall fly away. - - —_Alfred, Lord Tennyson._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. - - —_Lord Chesterfield._ - - - - -THE RAINBOW. - - -[Illustration] - - My heart leaps up when I behold - A rainbow in the sky; - So was it when my life began, - So is it now I am a man, - So be it when I shall grow old, - Or let me die! - The child is father of the man; - And I could wish my days to be - Bound each to each by natural piety. - - —_William Wordsworth._ - - - - -_Hey! Diddle, Diddle._ - - - Hey! diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, - The cow jumped over the moon; - The little dog laughed to see such sport, - And the dish ran away with the spoon. - - - - -_Little Jack Jingle._ - - - Little Jack Jingle, - He used to live single; - But when he got tired of this kind of life, - He left off being single, and lived with his wife. - - - - -_Cock Robin Got Up Early._ - - - Cock Robin got up early - At the break of day, - And went to Jenny’s window, - To sing a roundelay. - - He sang Cock Robin’s Love - To the pretty Jenny Wren, - And when he got unto the end, - Then he began again. - - - - -_Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat._ - - - Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been? - “I’ve been up to London to look at the Queen.” - Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there? - “I frightened a little mouse under the chair.” - - - - -SPRING SONG. - - - Spring comes hither, - Buds the rose; - Roses wither, - Sweet Spring goes. - - Summer soars,— - Wide-winged day; - White light pours, - Flies away. - - Soft winds blow, - Westward born; - Onward go, - Toward the morn. - - —_George Eliot._ - - - - -Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute. - - —_C. C. Pinckney._ - - - - -DUTY. - - - So nigh is grandeur to our dust, - So near is God to man; - When Duty whispers low, “Thou Must,” - The youth replies, “I can.” - - —_Ralph Waldo Emerson._ - - - - -_Dickory, Dickory, Dock._ - - -[Illustration] - - Dickory, dickory, dock, - The mouse ran up the clock, - The clock struck one, - The mouse ran down; - Hickory, dickory, dock. - - - - -_There Was an Old Man._ - - - There was an old man, - And he had a calf, - And that’s half; - He took him out of the stall, - And put him on the wall, - And that’s all. - - - - -PLAYING MOTHER—A MONOLOGUE. - - -[Illustration] - - Now, dollie, dear, you have been here - For a long time, almost a year, - And we have played with one another— - That you were baby, I was mother. - Now let us change about, I pray, - And you be mother for to-day. - - Now you must go to town, you say! - Then tell me, ’fore you go away, - A lot of things I must not do, - And point your finger at me, too, - This way: Now don’t climb up on chairs, - And don’t go tumblin’ down the stairs; - Don’t tease your little sister, dear, - And don’t do anything that’s queer. - - Don’t say “I won’t” to Auntie Bee— - What is it you are telling me? - You won’t say “Don’t” to me to-day? - Well, then, how can I disobey? - I wish my truly mother could - Make it so easy to be good! - - —_Sara Tawney Lefferts._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - The heights by great men reached and kept - Were not attained by sudden flight, - But they while their companions slept - Were toiling upward in the night. - - —_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow._ - - - - -_There Was a Little Girl._ - - - There was a little girl who wore a little hood, - And a curl down the middle of her forehead; - When she was good, she was very, very good, - But when she was bad, she was horrid. - - - - -_Ladybird, Ladybird, Fly Away Home._ - - - Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, - Thy house is on fire, thy children all gone, - All but one, and her name is Ann, - And she crept under the pudding-pan. - - - - -_Curly Locks! Curly Locks!_ - - - Curly locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine? - Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine; - But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, - And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream! - - - - -_Little Bob Snooks._ - - - Little Bob Snooks was fond of his books, - And loved by his usher and master; - But naughty Jack Spry, he got a black eye, - And carries his nose in a plaster. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -FOLLOW ME. - - - Children go - To and fro, - In a merry, pretty row, - Footsteps light, - Faces bright; - ’Tis a happy sight. - Swiftly turning round and round, - Never look upon the ground; - Follow me, - Full of glee, - Singing merrily. - - Work is done, - Play’s begun; - Now we have our laugh and fun; - Happy days, - Pretty plays, - And no naughty ways. - Holding fast each other’s hand, - We’re a happy little band; - Follow me, - Full of glee, - Singing merrily. - - Birds are free, - So are we; - And we live as happily. - Work we do, - Study too, - For we learn “Twice two;” - Then we laugh, and dance, and sing, - Gay as larks upon the wing; - Follow me, - Full of glee, - Singing merrily. - - —_Eliza Lee Follen._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -_To Make Your Candles Last._ - - - To make your candles last for aye, - You wives and maids give ear-o! - To put ’em out’s the only way, - Says honest John Boldero. - - - - -_Tommy Trot._ - - - Tommy Trot, a man of law, - Sold his bed and lay upon straw; - Sold the straw and slept on grass; - To buy his wife a looking-glass. - - - - -_There Were Two Blackbirds._ - - - There were two blackbirds - Sitting on a hill, - The one named Jack, - She other named Jill; - Fly away, Jack! - Fly away, Jill! - Come again, Jack! - Come again, Jill! - - - - -_There Was an Old Man._ - - - There was an old man of Tobago, - Who lived on rice gruel and sago; - Till much to his bliss, - His physician said this,— - “To a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.” - - - - -_Mary Had a Little Lamb._ - - -[Illustration] - - Mary had a little lamb, - Its fleece was white as snow; - And everywhere that Mary went, - The lamb was sure to go. - - He followed her to school one day; - That was against the rule; - It made the children laugh and play - To see a lamb at school. - - And so the teacher turned him out, - But still he lingered near, - And waited patiently about - Till Mary did appear. - - Then he ran to her, and laid - His head upon her arm, - As if he said, “I’m not afraid— - You’ll keep me from all harm.” - - “What makes the lamb love Mary so?” - The eager children cry. - “Oh, Mary loves the lamb, you know,” - The teacher did reply. - - And you each gentle animal - In confidence may bind, - And make them follow at your will, - If you are only kind. - -[Illustration] - - - - -A MODEST WIT. - - - A supercilious nabob of the East— - Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich— - A governor, or general, at the least, - I have forgotten which— - Had in his family a humble youth, - Who went from England in his patron’s suit, - An unassuming boy, in truth - A lad of decent parts, and good repute. - - This youth had sense and spirit; - But yet with all his sense, - Excessive diffidence - Obscured his merit. - - One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine, - His Honor, proudly free, severely merry, - Conceived it would be vastly fine - To crack a joke upon his secretary. - - “Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade, - Did your good father gain a livelihood?”— - “He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said, - “And in his time was reckon’d good.” - - “A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek, - Instead of teaching you to sew! - Pray why did not your father make - A saddler, sir, of you?” - - Each parasite, then, as in duty bound, - The joke applauded, and the laugh went round. - At length Modestus, bowing low, - Said (craving pardon, if too free he made), - “Sir, by your leave, I fain would know - _Your_ father’s trade!” - - “My father’s _trade_! by heaven that’s too bad! - My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad? - My father, sir, did never stoop so low— - He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.” - - “Excuse the liberty I take,” - Modestus said, with archness on his brow, - “Pray, why did not your father make - A gentleman of you?” - - —_Selleck Osborne._ - - - - -Truth is the highest thing that man may keep. - - —_Geoffrey Chaucer._ - - - - -LITTLE THINGS. - - -[Illustration] - - Little drops of water, - Little grains of sand, - Make the mighty ocean - And the pleasant land. - - Thus the little minutes, - Humble though they be, - Make the mighty ages - Of eternity. - - —_Ebenezer Cobham Brewer._ - - - - -THE BOY WHO NEVER TOLD A LIE. - - -[Illustration] - - Once there was a little boy, - With curly hair and pleasant eye— - A boy who always told the truth, - And never, never told a lie. - - And when he trotted off to school, - The children all about would cry, - “There goes the curly-headed boy— - The boy that never tells a lie.” - - And everybody loved him so, - Because he always told the truth, - That every day, as he grew up, - ’Twas said, “There goes the honest youth.” - - —_Anonymous._ - - - - -_Saw, Sacradown._ - - - See, saw, sacradown, - Which is the way to London town? - One foot up, the other foot down, - And that is the way to London town. - - - - -_Little Boy Blue._ - - - Little Boy Blue, come blow up your horn, - The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn; - - Where’s the little boy that tends the sheep? - He’s under the haycock, fast asleep. - - Go wake him, go wake him. Oh! no, not I; - For if I wake him, he’ll certainly cry. - - - - -_Once I Saw a Little Bird._ - - - Once I saw a little bird - Come hop, hop, hop; - So I cried, “Little bird, - Will you stop, stop, stop?” - And was going to the window - To say, “How do you do?” - But he shook his little tail, - And far away he flew. - -[Illustration] - - - - - See, see, what shall I see? - A horse’s head where his tail should be? - - - - -_Jack and Jill._ - - - Jack and Jill went up the hill, - To fetch a pail of water; - Jack fell down, and broke his crown, - And Jill came tumbling after. - - - - -_Dame, Get Up, and Bake Your Pies._ - - - Dame, get up and bake your pies, - Bake your pies, bake your pies, - Dame, get up and bake your pies, - On Christmas-day in the morning. - - Dame, what makes your maidens lie, - Maidens lie, maidens lie; - Dame, what makes your maidens lie, - On Christmas-day in the morning? - - Dame, what makes your ducks to die, - Ducks to die, ducks to die; - Dame, what makes your ducks to die, - On Christmas-day in the morning? - - Their wings are cut, and they cannot fly, - Cannot fly, cannot fly; - Their wings are cut, and they cannot fly, - On Christmas-day in the morning. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Willy, Willy Wilkin._ - - - Willy, Willy Wilkin - Kissed the maids a-milking, - Fa, la, la! - And with his merry daffing, - He set them all a-laughing, - Ha, ha, ha! - - - - -_Thirty Days Hath September._ - - - Thirty days hath September, - April, June, and November; - February has twenty-eight alone, - All the rest have thirty-one, - Excepting leap-year—that’s the time - When February’s days are twenty-nine. - - - - -_Come, Dance a Jig._ - - - Come, dance a jig - To my granny’s pig, - With a raudy, rowdy, dowdy; - Come, dance a jig - To my granny’s pig, - And pussy-cat shall crowdy. - - - - -_March Winds._ - - - March winds and April showers - Bring forth many flowers. - - - - -[Illustration: IT TAKES TWO TO MAKE A QUARREL] - - - - -THE FROG AND THE OX. - - -“Oh, father,” said a little frog to a big frog, sitting by the side of a -pool, “I have seen such a terrible monster! It was as big as a mountain, -with horns on its head. It had a long tail, and hoofs divided in two.” - -“Tush, child, tush,” said the old frog, “that was only Farmer White’s ox. -I can easily make myself as big; just you see.” And he blew himself out. -“Was he as big as that?” he asked. - -“Oh, much bigger than that,” said the young frog. - -Again the old frog blew himself out, and asked the young one if the ox -was as big. - -“Bigger, father,” was the reply, “much bigger.” - -Then the old frog took a very deep breath, and blew and swelled, and -swelled and blew—until he burst! - -[Illustration] - - - - - Chippy, chippy, chirio, - Chippy, chippy, chirio, - Not a man in Dario, - Can catch a chippy, chippy chirio. - - —_John Burroughs._ - - - - -A CHILD’S LAUGHTER. - - -[Illustration] - - All the bells of heaven may ring, - All the birds of heaven may sing, - All the wells on earth may spring, - All the winds on earth may bring - All sweet sounds together; - Sweeter far than all things heard, - Hand of harper, tone of bird, - Sound of woods at sundown stirred, - Welling water’s winsome word, - Wind in warm, wan weather. - - One thing yet there is that none - Hearing, ere its chime be done, - Knows not well the sweetest one - Heard of man beneath the sun, - Hoped in heaven hereafter; - Soft and strong and loud and light, - Very sound of very light, - Heard from morning’s rosiest height, - When the soul of all delight - Fills a child’s clear laughter. - - Golden bells of welcome rolled - Never forth such note, nor told - Hours so blithe in tones so bold, - As the radiant month of gold - Here that rings forth heaven. - If the golden-crested wren - Were a nightingale—why, then - Something seen and heard of men - Might be half as sweet as when - Laughs a child of seven. - - —_Algernon Charles Swinburne._ - - - - -THE BOY AND THE SHEEP. - - - “Lazy sheep, pray tell me why - In the pleasant field you lie, - Eating grass and daisies white, - From the morning till the night: - Everything can something do; - But what kind of use are you?” - - “Nay, my little master, nay; - Do not serve me so, I pray! - Don’t you see the wool that grows - On my back to make you clothes? - Cold, ah, very cold you’d be, - If you had not wool from me. - - “True, it seems a pleasant thing - Nipping daisies in the spring; - But what chilly nights I pass - On the cold and dewy grass, - Or pick my scanty dinner where - All the ground is brown and bare! - - “Then the farmer comes at last, - When the merry spring is past; - Cuts my wooly fleece away, - For your coat in wintry day. - Little master, this is why - In the pleasant fields I lie.” - - —_Ann Taylor._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -_There Was an Old Woman._ - - - There was an old woman she lived in a shoe, - She had so many children she didn’t know what to do; - She gave them some broth without any bread; - She whipped them all soundly, and put them to bed. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Oh, the Little Rusty, Dusty, Rusty Miller._ - - - Oh, the little rusty, dusty, rusty miller! - I’ll not change my wife for either gold or siller. - - - - -_Four-and-Twenty Tailors._ - - - Four-and-twenty tailors went to kill a snail, - The best man among them durst not touch her tail; - She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow— - Run, tailors, run, or she’ll kill you all e’en now. - - - - -_When I Was a Little Girl._ - - - When I was a little girl, I washed my mammy’s dishes; - Now I am a great girl, I roll in golden riches. - - - - -_Three Little Kittens._ - - - Three little kittens lost their mittens, - And they began to cry: - “O mother dear we very much fear - That we have lost our mittens.” - “Lost your mittens, you naughty kittens! - Then you shall have no pie.” - “Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow, - And we can have no pie, - Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow!” - - - - -_Little Tommy Tucker._ - - - Little Tommy Tucker - Sings for his supper; - What shall he eat? - White bread and butter, - How shall he cut it - Without e’er a knife? - How will he be married - Without e’er a wife? - - - - -DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARS? - - - Do you know how many stars - There are shining in the sky? - Do you know how many clouds - Ev’ry day go floating by? - God in heaven has counted all, - He would miss one should it fall. - - Do you know how many children - Go to little beds at night, - And without a care or sorrow, - Wake up in the morning light? - God in heaven each name can tell, - Loves you too and loves you well. - - —_From the German._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -A VIOLET BANK. - - - I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, - Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows; - Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, - With sweet musk roses and with eglantine. - - —_William Shakespeare._ - - - - -A BLADE OF GRASS. - - -Gather a single blade of grass, and examine for a minute its narrow -sword-shaped strip of fluted green. Nothing, as it seems, is there of -notable goodness or beauty. A very little strength, and a very little -tallness, and a few delicate long lines meeting in a point—not a perfect -point, either, but blunt and unfinished—by no means a creditable or -apparently much-cared-for example of Nature’s workmanship, made only -to be trodden on to-day, and to-morrow to be cast into the oven; and a -little pale hollow stalk, feeble and flaccid, leading down to the dull -brown fibers of roots. - -And yet think of it well, and judge whether of all the gorgeous flowers -that beam in summer air, and of all the strong and goodly trees, pleasant -to the eyes or good for food—stately palm and pine, strong ash and oak, -scented citron, burdened vine—there be any by man so deeply loved, by God -so highly graced, as that narrow point of feeble green. - - —_John Ruskin_ (_Modern Painters_). - -[Illustration] - - - - - ’Tis education forms the common mind - Just as the twig is bent, the tree’s inclined. - - —_Alexander Pope._ - - - - -GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD-MORNING. - - -[Illustration] - - A fair little girl sat under the tree - Sewing as long as her eyes could see; - Then smoothed her work and folded it right, - And said, “Dear work, good-night, good-night!” - - Such a number of rooks came over her head - Crying, “Caw, caw!” on their way to bed; - She said as she watched their curious flight, - “Little black things, good-night, good-night!” - - The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed; - The sheep’s “Bleat, bleat!” came over the road, - All seeming to say with a quiet delight, - “Good little girl, good-night, good-night!” - - She did not say to the sun, “Good-night!” - Though she saw him there like a ball of light; - For she knew he had God’s own time to keep - All over the world, and never could sleep. - - The tall, pink Fox-glove bowed his head— - The violets curtesied, and went to bed; - And good little Lucy tied up her hair - And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer. - - And while on her pillow she softly lay, - She knew nothing more till again it was day, - And all things said to the beautiful sun, - “Good-morning, good-morning! our work is begun.” - - —_Lord Houghton._ - - - - -_Sing, Sing! What Shall I Sing?_ - - - Sing, sing! what shall I sing? - The cat has eat the pudding-string! - Do, do! what shall I do? - The cat has bit it quite in two. - - - - -_Pease-Pudding Hot._ - - - Pease-pudding hot, - Pease-pudding cold, - Pease-pudding in the pot, - Nine days old. - - Some like it hot, - Some like it cold, - Some like it in the pot, - Nine days old. - - - - -_Peter, Peter, Pumpkin-eater._ - - - Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater, - Had a wife, and couldn’t keep her; - He put her in a pumpkin-shell, - And there he kept her very well. - - Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater, - Had another and didn’t love her; - Peter learned to read and spell, - And then he loved her very well. - - - - -[Illustration: The Farmyard.] - -[Illustration: Waiting to be Hired.] - - - - -_Little Miss Muffet._ - - - Little Miss Muffet - Sat on a tuffet, - Eating of curds and whey; - There came a spider, - And sat down beside her, - And frightened Miss Muffet away. - - - - -_My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind._ - - - My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, - Went round about the house to find - A chink to get her foot in. - She tried the key-hole in the door, - She tried the crevice in the floor, - And drove the chimney soot in. - - And then one night when it was dark - She blew up such a tiny spark, - That all the house was bothered: - From it she raised up such a flame, - As flamed away to Belting Lane, - And White Cross folks were smothered. - - And thus when once, my little dears, - A whisper reaches itching ears, - The same will come, you’ll find: - Take my advice, restrain the tongue, - Remember what old Nurse has sung - Of busy Lady Wind! - - - - -_What is the Rhyme for Porringer?_ - - - What is the rhyme for _porringer_? - The king he had a daughter fair, - And gave the Prince of Orange her. - - - - -_The Queen of Hearts._ - - - The queen of hearts - She made some tarts, - All on a summer’s day; - The knave of hearts - He stole those tarts, - And with them ran away. - - The king of hearts - Called for those tarts, - And beat the knave full sore; - The knave of hearts - Brought back those tarts, - And said he’d ne’er steal more. - - - - -_Where Are You Going, My Pretty Maid?_ - - - “Where are you going, my pretty maid?” - “I’m going a-milking, sir,” she said. - - “May I go with you, my pretty maid?” - “You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said. - - “What is your father, my pretty maid?” - “My father’s a farmer, sir,” she said. - - “What is your fortune, my pretty maid?” - “My face is my fortune, sir,” she said. - - “Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid!” - “Nobody asked you, sir,” she said. - - - - -_Here We Go Up, Up, Up._ - - - Here we go up, up, up, - And here we go down, down, downy, - And here we go backwards and forwards, - And here we go round, round, roundy. - - - - -_Oh, Dear! What Can the Matter Be?_ - - - Oh, dear! what can the matter be? - Two old women got up an apple-tree; - One came down, - And the other stayed till Saturday. - - - - -_For Every Evil Under the Sun._ - - - For every evil under the sun, - There is a remedy, or there is none. - If there be one, try and find it, - If there be none, never mind it. - - - - -MY FATHER WAS A FARMER. - - -[Illustration] - - My father was a farmer, upon the Garrick border, O, - And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O; - He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O— - For without an honest, manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O. - - —_Robert Burns._ - - - - -HIAWATHA’S CHILDHOOD. - -From “The Song of Hiawatha.” - - - At the door on summer evenings - Sat the little Hiawatha; - Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, - Heard the lapping of the water, - Sounds of music, words of wonder; - “Minne-wawa!” said the pine trees, - “Mudway-aushka!” said the water. - Saw the firefly, Wah-wah-taysee, - Flitting through the dusk of evening - With the twinkle of his candle - Lighting up the brakes and bushes, - And he sang the song of children, - Sang the song Nokomis taught him: - “Wah-wah-taysee, little firefly. - Little, flitting, white-fire insect, - Little, dancing, white-fire creature, - Light me with your little candle, - Ere upon my bed I lay me, - Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!” - Forth into the forest straightway - All alone walked Hiawatha - Proudly, with his bow and arrows; - And the birds sang round him, o’er him, - “Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!” - Sang the robin, the Opechee, - Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, - “Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!” - Up the oak-tree, close beside him, - Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, - In and out among the branches, - Coughed, and chattered from the oak-tree, - Laughed, and said between his laughing, - “Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!” - But he heeded not, nor heard them, - For his thoughts were with the red deer; - On their tracks his eyes were fastened, - Leading downward to the river, - To the ford across the river, - And as one in slumber walked he. - - —_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -They are never alone that are accompanied with noblest thoughts. - - —_Sir Philip Sidney._ - - - - -_As I was Going to St. Ives._ - - - As I was going to St. Ives, - I met a man with seven wives, - Every wife had seven sacks, - Every sack had seven cats, - Every cat had seven kits— - Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, - How many were there going to St. Ives? - - (_One._) - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Merry are the Bells._ - - - Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring, - Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; - With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, - And a merry sing-song, happy let us be! - - Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose, - Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose; - Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free, - With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be! - - Merry have we met, and merry have we been, - Merry let us part, and merry meet again; - With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, - And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be! - - - - -AMERICA. - - - My country, ’tis of thee, - Sweet land of liberty, - Of thee I sing; - Land where my fathers died, - Land of the Pilgrim’s pride; - From every mountain side, - Let freedom ring. - - My native country, thee— - Land of the noble free— - Thy name I love; - I love thy rocks and rills, - Thy woods and templed hills; - My heart with rapture thrills, - Like that above. - - Let music swell the breeze, - And ring from all the trees - Sweet freedom’s song; - Let mortal tongues awake; - Let all that breathe partake; - Let rocks their silence break— - The sound prolong. - - Our father’s God, to Thee, - Author of liberty, - To Thee we sing; - Long may our land be bright - With freedom’s holy light: - Protect us by Thy might, - Great God, our King. - - —_Samuel Francis Smith._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE NATIONAL FLAG. - - -There is the national flag! He must be cold, indeed, who can look upon -its folds rippling in the breeze without pride of country. If he be in a -foreign land the flag is companionship and country itself, with all its -endearments. It has been called “a floating piece of poetry,” and yet I -know not if it have greater beauty than other ensigns. Its highest beauty -is in what it symbolizes. It is because it represents all, that all gaze -at it with delight and reverence. It is a piece of bunting lifted in the -air, but it speaks sublimely, and every part has a voice. Its stripes of -alternate red and white proclaim the original union of thirteen states -to maintain the Declaration of Independence. Its stars of white in a -field of blue proclaim that union of States constituting our national -constellation, which receives a new star with every state. The two -together signify union, past and present. The very colors have a language -which was officially recognized by our fathers. White is for purity, red -for valor, blue for justice; and all together, bunting, stars, stripes, -and colors, blazing in the sky, make the flag of our country—to be -cherished by all our hearts, to be upheld by all our hands. - - —_Charles Sumner._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -MARJORIE’S BATH. - - - (Marjorie) - - The water is cold, it makes me cry. - - (Mother) - - It will be warmer by and by. - - (Marjorie) - - A crab is hid deep in the sand below! - - (Mother) - - Then he cannot bite you dear, I know. - - (Marjorie) - - If you will let me paddle and play - I’ll try and swim some other day. - - (Mother) - - But the sea will be cold to-morrow, too,— - And the crab will be always biting you. - - (Marjorie) - - The big waves scare me, mother dear, - And make me feel so cold and queer. - If you’ll let me run on the sand and play, - I’ll find pretty shells for you, to-day. - - —_Helen Lee Sargent._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -BLIND MAN’S BUFF. - - - Harry, Charlie, Grace and May, - Playing Blind-man’s-buff one day, - Running here and running there, - Falling over stool and chair. - - Strange how Charlie right away - Caught them, ’till his cousin May - Saw him peek, and cried, “No fair, - Charlie boy, how do you dare.” - - Charlie hung his head in shame, - Ran and left them to their game, - Hid himself behind the door - For at least an hour or more. - - So I’m sure it did not pay - Charlie boy to peek that way, - In playing games of any kind - Honesty is best you’ll find. - - —_Ella Broes van Heekeren._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - The noblest mind the best contentment has. - - —_Edmund Spenser._ - - - - -_The Death and Burial of Cock Robin._ - - -[Illustration] - - Who killed Cock Robin? - “I,” said the Sparrow, - “With my bow and arrow - I killed Cock Robin.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Sparrow, - With his bow and arrow.] - - Who saw him die? - “I,” said the Fly, - “With my little eye, - And I saw him die.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the little Fly, - Who saw Cock Robin die.] - - Who caught his blood? - “I,” said the Fish, - “With my little dish, - And I caught his blood.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Fish - That held the dish.] - - Who made his shroud? - “I,” said the Beetle, - “With my little needle, - And I made his shroud.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Beetle, - With his thread and needle.] - - Who shall dig his grave? - “I,” said the Owl, - “With my spade and show’l, - And I’ll dig his grave.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Owl, - With his spade and show’l.] - - Who’ll be the parson? - “I,” said the Rook, - “With my little book, - And I’ll be the parson.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Rook, - Reading the book.] - - Who’ll be the clerk? - “I,” said the Lark, - “If it’s not in the dark, - And I’ll be the clerk.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Lark, - Saying “Amen” like a clerk.] - - Who’ll carry him to the grave? - “I,” said the Kite, - “If ’tis not in the night, - And I’ll carry him to his grave.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Kite, - About to take flight.] - - Who’ll carry the link? - “I,” said the Linnet, - “I’ll fetch it in a minute, - And I’ll carry the link.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Linnet, - And a link with fire in it.] - - Who’ll be the chief mourner? - “I,” said the Dove, - “I mourn for my love, - And I’ll be chief mourner.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Dove, - Who Cock Robin did love.] - - Who’ll sing a psalm? - “I,” said the Thrush, - As she sat in a bush, - “And I’ll sing a psalm.” - -[Illustration: - - This is the Thrush, - Singing psalms from a bush.] - - And who’ll toll the bell? - “I,” said the Bull, - “Because I can pull;” - And so, Cock Robin, farewell. - -[Illustration] - - - - -LONDON BRIDGE. - - - How many a bridge in London-Town, - In by-gone years has fallen down! - And little children every day - Are building bridges the self-same way. - They may use wrought iron and steel and try - To make them strong, but by and by - You’ll hear the wild alarming cry: - - “London bridge is falling down, - Falling down, falling down! - London bridge is falling down, - My fair lady!” - - —_Sara Tawney Lefferts._ - - - - -Truth is the highest thing that man can keep. - - —_Geoffrey Chaucer._ - - - - -THE SWALLOW. - - - Fly away, fly away over the sea, - Sun-loving swallow, for summer is done; - Come again, come again, come back to me, - Bringing the Summer and bringing the sun. - - —_Christina G. Rossetti._ - - - - -BUTTERCUPS. - - -[Illustration] - - The buttercups with shining face - Smile upward as I pass. - They seem to lighten all the place - Like sunshine in the grass. - - And though not glad nor gay was I - When first they came in view; - I find when I have passed them by, - That I am smiling, too. - - —_Sarah F. Day._ - - - - -_As I Was Going o’er Westminster Bridge._ - - - As I was going o’er Westminster Bridge, - I met with a Westminster scholar; - He pulled off his cap _an’ drew_ off his glove, - And wished me a very good morrow. - What is his name? - - - - -_Margery Mutton-pie._ - - - Margery Mutton-pie and Johnny Bo-peep, - They met together in Gracechurch-street; - In and out, in and out, over the way, - Oh! says Johnny, ’tis chop-nose day. - - - - -_Simple Simon Met a Pieman._ - - - Simple Simon met a pieman - Going to the fair; - Says Simple Simon to the pieman, - “Let me taste your ware.” - - Says the pieman to Simple Simon, - “Show me first your penny;” - Says Simple Simon to the pieman, - “Indeed, I have not any.” - - Simple Simon went a-fishing - For to catch a whale; - All the water he had got - Was in his mother’s pail. - - Simple Simon went to look - If plums grew on a thistle; - He pricked his fingers very much, - Which made poor Simon whistle. - -[Illustration] - - - - -FABLE. - - - The mountain and the squirrel - Had a quarrel, - And the former called the latter “Little Prig.” - Bun replied: - “You are doubtless very big; - But all sorts of things and weather - Must be taken in together - To make up a year - And a sphere; - And I think it no disgrace - To occupy my place. - If I am not so large as you, - You are not so small as I, - And not half so spry. - I’ll not deny you make - A very pretty squirrel track; - Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; - If I cannot carry forests on my back - Neither can you crack a nut!” - - —_Ralph Waldo Emerson._ - - - - -_Solomon Grundy._ - - -[Illustration] - - Solomon Grundy, - Born on a Monday, - Christened on Tuesday, - Married on Wednesday, - Took ill on Thursday, - Worse on Friday, - Died on Saturday, - Buried on Sunday. - This is the end - Of Solomon Grundy. - - - - -_Baa, Baa, Black Sheep._ - - -[Illustration] - - Baa, baa, black sheep, - Have you any wool? - Yes, marry, have I, - Three bags full; - One for my master, - And one for my dame, - But none for the little boy - Who cries in the lane. - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Bell-Horses, Bell-Horses._ - - - Bell-Horses, bell-horses, - What time of day? - One o’clock, two o’clock, - Off and away. - - - - -THE FIELD MOUSE AND THE TOWN MOUSE. - - -A Field Mouse had a friend who lived in a house in town. Now the Town -Mouse was asked by the Field Mouse to dine with him, and out he went and -sat down to a meal of corn and wheat. - -“Do you know, my friend,” said he, “that you live a mere ant’s life out -here? Why, I have all kinds of things at home; come and enjoy them.” - -So the two set off for town, and there the Town Mouse showed his beans -and meal, his dates, too; his cheese and fruit and honey. And as the -Field Mouse ate, drank, and was merry, he thought how rich his friend was -and how poor he was. - -But as they ate, a man all at once opened the door, and the mice were in -such fear that they ran into a crack. - -Then when they would eat some nice figs, in came a maid to get a pot of -honey or a bit of cheese; and when they saw her, they hid in a hole. - -Then the Field Mouse would eat no more, but said to the Town Mouse: “Do -as you like, my good friend; eat all you want, have your fill of good -things, but you are always in fear of your life. As for me, poor Mouse, -who have only corn and wheat, I will live on at home, in no fear of any -one.” - - —_Aesop._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -A DUTCH WINTER. - - -[Illustration] - - The windmills of Holland are silent and stilled, - Their whirling has ceased, for their long arms are chilled. - The ice-prisoned boats are hung with a lace - Of Flemish design of most delicate grace. - While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell, - The time by the tower, and adds, “All is well.” - - The tulips are hid ’neath a rug of soft white, - They’re dreaming of spring, and the sun warm and bright. - The rollicking lads, with the lassies in wake, - Sweep by on their ice skates of old Friesian make, - While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell, - The time by the tower, and adds, “All is well.” - - In the land of the windmills, the stars one by one - Slowly people the heavens, for night has begun. - The rosy-cheeked babies, in nightcap and gown, - Are asleep in their cradles with curtains hung down, - While the watchman calls out with a voice like a bell, - The time by the tower, and adds, “All is well.” - - —_Ella Broes van Heekeren._ - - - - - He that complies against his will - Is of the same opinion still. - - —_Samuel Butler._ - - - - -IF I WERE A COBBLER. - - - If I were a cobbler, I would make it my pride - The best of all cobblers to be; - If I were a tinker, no tinker beside - Should mend an old kettle like me. - - - - -THANKSGIVING DAY. - - -[Illustration] - - Over the river and through the wood, - To grandfather’s house we go; - The horse knows the way - To carry the sleigh - Through the white and drifted snow. - Over the river and through the wood— - Oh, how the wind does blow! - It stings the toes - And bites the nose, - As over the ground we go. - - Over the river and through the wood, - To have a first-rate play. - Hear the bells ring, - “Ting-a-ling-ding!” - Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day! - Over the river and through the wood, - Trot fast, my dapple-gray! - Spring over the ground, - Like a hunting hound! - For this is Thanksgiving Day. - - Over the river and through the wood, - And straight through the barn-yard gate. - We seem to go - Extremely slow— - It is so hard to wait! - Over the river and through the wood— - Now grandmother’s cap I spy! - Hurrah for the fun! - Is the pudding done? - Hurrah for the pumpkin pie! - - —_Lydia Maria Child._ - - - - -HALLUCINATIONS. - - - He thought he saw an Elephant, - That practiced on a fife. - He looked again, and found it was - A letter from his wife. - “At length I realize,” he said, - “The bitterness of life!” - - He thought he saw a Buffalo, - Upon the chimney piece. - He looked again, and found it was - His sister’s husband’s niece. - “Unless you leave this house,” he said, - “I’ll send for the police!” - - He thought he saw a Rattlesnake, - That questioned him in Greek. - He looked again, and found it was - The middle of next week. - “The one thing I regret,” he said, - “Is that it cannot speak!” - - He thought he saw a Banker’s Clerk, - Descending from the ’bus. - He looked again, and found it was - A hippopotamus. - “If this should stay to dine,” he said, - “There won’t be much for us.” - - —_Lewis Carroll._ - - - - -LET US HAVE FAITH. - - -Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith let us to the -end dare to do our duty as we understand it. - - —_Abraham Lincoln._ - - - - -LUCY’S BALLOON. - - -Little Donald was one day taken by his father to see the circus -procession. His little sister Lucy was obliged to stay at home. While -they were standing on the sidewalk, the father bought two balloons, -saying, “One of these is for you, Donald, and the other we will take home -to Lucy.” On account of the dense crowd, the father was carrying the -balloons, holding them high above his head, when suddenly one of them -exploded. Donald looked at it in dismay for a moment. Then his little -face brightened, and he said cheerfully, “It’s too bad that _Lucy’s_ -balloon is spoiled, but I will let her play with mine sometimes.” - - —_Kate Upson Clark._ - - - - -_London Bridge is Broken Down._ - - - London Bridge is broken down, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - London Bridge is broken down, - With a gay lady. - - How shall we build it up again? - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - How shall we build it up again? - With a gay lady. - - Silver and gold will be stole away, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Silver and gold will be stole away, - With a gay lady. - - Build it up again with iron and steel, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Build it up with iron and steel, - With a gay lady. - - Iron and steel will bend and bow, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Iron and steel will bend and bow, - With a gay lady. - - Build it up with wood and clay, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Build it up with wood and clay, - With a gay lady. - - Wood and clay will wash away, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Wood and clay will wash away, - With a gay lady. - - Build it up with stone so strong, - Dance o’er my lady Lee; - Huzza! ’twill last for ages long, - With a gay lady. - - - - -_See a Pin and Pick It Up._ - - - See a pin and pick up, - All the day you’ll have good luck; - See a pin and let it lay, - Bad luck you’ll have all the day! - - - - -_Pussy-Cat, Wussy-Cat._ - - - Pussy-cat, wussy-cat, with a white foot, - When is your wedding? for I’ll come to ’t. - The beer’s to brew, the bread’s to bake. - Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, don’t be too late. - - - - -_The Man in the Wilderness._ - - - The man in the wilderness asked me, - How many strawberries grew in the sea. - I answered him, as I thought good, - As many red herrings as grew in the wood. - - - - -_Poor Dog Bright._ - - - Poor Dog Bright - Ran off with all his might, - Because the cat was after him— - Poor Dog Bright! - - Poor Cat Fright - Ran off with all her might, - Because the dog was after her— - Poor Cat Fright! - - - - -_Johnny Shall Have a New Bonnet._ - - -[Illustration] - - Johnny shall have a new bonnet, - And Johnny shall go to the fair, - And Johnny shall have a blue ribbon - To tie up his bonny brown hair. - - And why may not I love Johnny? - And why may not Johnny love me? - And why may not I love Johnny - As well as another body? - - And here’s a leg for a stocking, - And here’s a leg for a shoe; - And he has a kiss for his daddy, - And two for his mammy, I trow. - - And why may not I love Johnny? - And why may not Johnny love me? - And why may not I love Johnny - As well as another body? - - - - -CHOOSING A NAME. - - - I have got a new-born sister; - I was nigh the first that kissed her. - When the nursing woman brought her - To papa, his infant daughter, - How papa’s dear eyes did glisten!— - She will shortly be to christen: - And papa has made the offer, - I shall have the naming of her. - - Now, I wonder what would please her— - Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa? - Ann and Mary, they’re too common; - Joan’s too formal for a woman; - Jane’s a prettier name beside; - But we had a Jane that died. - They would say, if ’twas Rebecca, - That she was a little Quaker. - Edith’s pretty, but that looks - Better in old English books; - Ellen’s left off long ago; - Blanche is out of fashion now. - - None that I have named as yet - Are so good as Margaret. - Emily is neat and fine. - What do you think of Caroline? - How I’m puzzled and perplext - What to choose or think of next! - I am in a little fever - Lest the name that I should give her - Should disgrace her or defame her. - I will leave papa to name her. - - —_Charles Lamb._ - - - - - Do all the good you can, - By all the means you can, - In all the ways you can, - In all the places you can, - At all the times you can, - To all the people you can, - As long as ever you can. - - —_John Wesley._ - - - - -A LITTLE NEGLECT MAY BREED MISCHIEF. - - -A little neglect may breed mischief: For want of a nail the shoe was -lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost; and for want of a horse the -rider was lost. - - —_Benjamin Franklin._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -RULES OF BEHAVIOR. - - -Every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those -present. - -Think before you speak, pronounce not imperfectly, nor bring your words -too hastily, but orderly and distinctly. - -Associate yourself with men of good quality, if you esteem your own -reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company. - - —_George Washington._ - - - - -When we are alone, we have our thoughts to watch, in the family our -tempers, in company our tongues. - - —_Hannah More._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE LOST DOLL. - - - I once had a sweet little doll, dears, - The prettiest doll in the world; - Her cheeks were so red and white, dears, - And her hair was so charmingly curled. - But I lost my poor little doll, dears, - As I played on the heath one day; - And I cried for her more than a week, dears, - But I never could find where she lay. - - I found my poor little doll, dears, - As I played on the heath one day; - Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, - For her paint is all washed away, - And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears, - And her hair not the least bit curled; - Yet for old sake’s sake, she is still, dears, - The prettiest doll in the world. - - —_Charles Kingsley._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -OLD SANTA CLAUS. - - - Old Santa Claus sat alone in his den, - With his leg crossed over his knee; - While a comical look peeped out of his eyes, - For a funny old fellow was he. - - His queer little cap was tumbled and torn, - And his wig it was all awry; - But he sat and mused the whole day long, - While the hours went flying by. - - He had been as busy as busy could be, - In filling his pack with toys; - He had gathered his nuts and baked his pies, - To give to the girls and boys. - - There were dolls for the girls, and whips for the boys, - With wheelbarrows, horses and drays, - And bureaus and trunks for Dolly’s new clothes; - All these in his pack he displays. - - Of candy, too, both twisted and striped, - He had furnished a plentiful store; - While raisins and figs, and prunes and grapes, - Hung up on a peg by the door. - - “I’m almost ready,” quoth he, quoth he, - “And Christmas is almost here; - But one thing more—I must write a book, - And give to each one this year.” - - So he clapped his specks on his little round nose, - And seizing the stump of a pen, - He wrote more lines in one little hour - Than you ever could read in ten. - - He told them stories all pretty and new, - And wrote them all out in rhyme; - Then packed them away with his box of toys - To distribute one at a time. - - And Christmas Eve when all were in bed, - Right down the chimney he flew; - And stretching the stocking leg out at the top, - He clapped in a book for you. - - —_Unknown._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - Such is the patriot’s boast where’er we roam. - His first, best country ever is at home. - - —_Oliver Goldsmith._ - - - - -A RIDDLE. - -(A book.) - - -[Illustration] - - I’m a strange contradiction; I’m new, and I’m old, - I’m often in tatters and oft decked with gold. - Though I never could read, yet lettered I’m found; - Though blind, I enlighten; though loose, I am bound; - I’m always in black, and I’m always in white; - I’m grave and I’m gay, I am heavy and light— - In form, too, I differ—I’m thick and I’m thin, - - I’ve no flesh and no bones, yet I’m covered with skin; - I’ve more points than the compass, more stops than the flute; - I sing without voice, without speaking confute. - I’m English, I’m German, I’m French, and I’m Dutch; - Some love me too fondly, some slight me too much; - I often die soon, though I sometimes live ages, - And no monarch alive has so many pages. - - —_Hannah More._ - - - - -A BOY’S SONG. - - - Where the pools are bright and deep, - Where the gray trout lies asleep, - Up the river and o’er the lea, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the blackbird sings the latest, - Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, - Where the nestlings chirp and flee, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the mowers mow the cleanest, - Where the hay lies thick and greenest, - There to trace the homeward bee, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the hazel bank is steepest, - Where the shadow falls the deepest, - Where the clustering nuts fall free, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Why the boys should drive away, - Little sweet maidens from the play, - Or love to banter and fight so well, - That’s the thing I never could tell. - - But this I know, I love to play, - Through the meadow, among the hay, - Up the water and o’er the lea, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - —_James Hogg._ - - - - -LET DOGS DELIGHT TO BARK AND BITE. - - - Let dogs delight to bark and bite, - For God hath made them so; - Let bears and lions growl and fight, - For ’tis their nature to. - - But, little children, you should never let - Such angry passions rise; - Your little hands were never made - To tear each other’s eyes. - - —_Isaac Watts._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -_Bless You, Bless You._ - - - Bless you, bless you, burnie bee; - Say, when will your wedding be? - If it be to-morrow day, - Take your wings and fly away. - - - - -_Ding Dong Bell._ - - - Ding dong bell, pussy’s in the well! - Who put her in?—Little Johnny Green. - Who pulled her out?—Big Johnny Stout. - What a naughty boy was that - To drown poor pussy cat, - Who never did him any harm, - But killed the mice in his father’s barn! - - - - -_Leg Over Leg._ - - - Leg over leg, as the dog went to Dover, - When he came to a stile, hop he went over. - - - - -_A Little Cock-Sparrow._ - - - A little cock-sparrow sat on a tree, - Looking as happy as happy could be, - Till a boy came by, with his bow and arrow. - Says he, “I will shoot the little cock-sparrow. - His body will make me a nice little stew, - And his giblets will make me a little pie, too.” - Says the little cock-sparrow, “I’ll be shot if I stay,” - So he clapped his wings, and flew away. - - - - -MY SHIP AND I. - - -[Illustration] - - O it’s I that am the captain of a tidy little ship, - Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond; - And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about; - But when I’m a little older, I shall find the secret out - How to send my vessel sailing on beyond. - - For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the helm, - And the dolly I intend to come alive; - And with him beside to help me, it’s a-sailing I shall go, - It’s a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow - And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive. - - O it’s then you’ll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds, - And you’ll hear the water singing at the prow; - For beside the dolly sailor, I’m to voyage and explore, - To land upon the island where no dolly was before, - And to fire the penny cannon in the bow. - - —_Robert Louis Stevenson._ - - - - -Never leave that till tomorrow which you can do today. - - —_Benjamin Franklin._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE PUSSY WILLOWS. - - -[Illustration] - - The Pussy Willows, far and near, - Give warning when the spring is here; - And every little child I know - Can tell where Pussy Willows grow. - - While winter snows are whirling ’round - No Pussy Willows can be found; - But, dreaming in their beds, they hear - The first awakening of the year. - - Then soon through frosty windows peep - The downy Pussies, roused from sleep. - “The spring is here!” they softly purr— - And out they pop to welcome her. - - —_Sara Tawney Lefferts._ - - - - -_The Babes in the Wood._ - - - My dear, do you know, - How a long time ago, - Two poor little children, - Whose names I don’t know, - Were stolen away, - On a fine summer’s day, - And left in the wood, - As I’ve heard people say. - - And when it was night, - So sad was their plight, - The sun it went down, - And the moon gave no light! - They sobbed, and they sighed - And they bitterly cried, - And the poor little things, - They lay down and died. - - And when they were dead, - The Robins so red - Brought strawberry leaves, - And over them spread; - And all the day long, - They sung them this song: - “Poor babes in the wood! poor babes in the wood! - And don’t you remember the babes in the wood?” - - - - -A DUTCH LULLABY. - - -[Illustration] - - Far over the water so blue and so deep, - The little Dutch babies are going to sleep; - Bright yellow tulips are nodding their heads - And fluffy young ducks are safe in their beds, - While slowly the windmills go whirling around— - Go whirling around—go whirling around. - - Far over the water the sails are furled - And the stars peep out on a sleepy world; - The moo cows moo softly beneath the trees - And the white sheep drowse in the evening breeze, - While slowly the windmills go whirling around— - Go whirling around—go whirling around. - - Far over the water comes down the night, - Fading and fading the silvery light, - While storks on their nests stand white and tall, - And over the tree-tops the shadows fall. - While slowly the windmills go whirling around— - Go whirling around—go whirling around. - - —_Ella Broes van Heekeren._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -IF WE WORK UPON MARBLE. - - -If we work upon marble, it will perish; if we work upon brass, time will -efface it; if we rear temples, they will crumble into dust! but if we -work upon our immortal minds, if we imbue them with principles—with the -just fear of God and our fellowmen—we engrave on those tablets something -which will brighten to all eternity. - - —_Daniel Webster._ - - - - -THE DUEL. - - -[Illustration] - - The gingham dog and the calico cat - Side by side on the table sat; - ’Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!) - Not one nor t’other had slept a wink! - The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate - Appeared to know as sure as fate - There was going to be a terrible spat - (_I wasn’t there; I simply state_ - _What was told to me by the Chinese plate!_) - - The gingham dog went “bow-wow-wow!” - And the calico cat replied “mee-ow!” - The air was littered an hour or so, - With bits of gingham and calico; - While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place, - Up with its hands before its face, - For it always dreaded a family row! - (_Now mind: I’m only telling you_ - _What the old Dutch clock declares is true!_) - - The Chinese plate looked very blue, - And wailed, “Oh, dear! what shall we do!” - But the gingham dog and the calico cat - Wallowed this way and tumbled that, - Employing every tooth and claw - In the awfullest way you ever saw— - And, Oh! how the gingham and calico flew! - (_Don’t fancy I exaggerate!_ - _I got my views from the Chinese plate!_) - - Next morning where the two had sat - They found no trace of dog or cat; - And some folks think unto this day - That burglars stole that pair away! - But the truth about that cat and pup - Is this: They ate each other up! - Now what do you really think of that! - (_The old Dutch clock it told me so,_ - _And that is how I came to know._) - - —_Eugene Field._ - - - - - O wad some power the giftie gie us - To see ourselves as others see us, - It wad frae monie a blunder free us, - And foolish notion. - - —_Robert Burns._ - - - - -THE ANT AND THE CRICKET. - - -[Illustration] - - A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing - Through the warm sunny months of gay summer and spring, - Began to complain, when he found that at home - His cupboard was empty and winter was come. - Not a crumb to be found - On the snow-covered ground; - Not a flower could he see, - Not a leaf on a tree: - “Oh, what will come,” says the cricket, “of me?” - - At last by starvation and famine made bold, - All dripping with wet and all trembling with cold, - Away he set off to a miserly ant, - To see if, to keep him alive he would grant - Him a shelter from rain: - A mouthful of grain - He wished only to borrow, - He’d repay it to-morrow: - If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow. - - Says the ant to the cricket, “I’m your servant and friend, - But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend; - But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by - When the weather was warm?” Said the cricket, “Not I. - My heart was so light - That I sang day and night, - For all nature looked gay.” - “You _sang_, sir, you say? - Go then,” said the ant, “and _dance_ winter away.” - - Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket - And out of the door turned the poor little cricket. - Though this is a fable, the moral is good; - If you live without work, you must live without food. - - —_Unknown._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -A GOOD LISTENER. - - -It is the Listener who is just now in far greater demand than the Talker. - -Let us all learn the Fine Art of Good Listening. - - —_Kate Upson Clark._ - - - - -_There Was a Crooked Man._ - - - There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile - He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile: - He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, - And they all lived together in a little crooked house. - - - - -_Little Bo-Peep._ - - - Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, - And can’t tell where to find them; - Leave them alone, and they’ll come home, - And bring their tails behind them. - - Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, - And dreamed she heard them bleating; - But when she awoke, she found it a joke, - For they were still a-fleeting. - - Then up she took her little crook, - Determined for to find them; - She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, - For they’d left all their tails behind ’em. - - - - -_Peter Piper._ - - - Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers; - A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked; - If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, - Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked? - - - - -EMPLOYMENT. - - -[Illustration] - - Who’ll come and play with me here under the tree, - My sisters have left me alone; - My sweet little sparrow, come hither to me, - And play with me while they are gone. - - O no, little lady, I can’t come, indeed, - I’ve no time to idle away, - I’ve got all my dear little children to feed, - And my nest to new cover with hay. - - Pretty Bee, do not buzz about over the flower, - But come here and play with me, do: - The sparrow won’t come and stay with me an hour, - But stay, pretty Bee—will not you? - - O no, little lady, for do not you see - Those must work who would prosper and thrive, - If I play, they would call me a sad idle bee— - And perhaps turn me out of the hive. - - Stop! stop! little Ant—do not run off so fast, - Wait with me a little and play: - I hope I shall find a companion at last, - You are not so busy as they. - - O no, little lady, I can’t stay with you, - We’re not made to play, but to labor: - I always have something or other to do, - If not for myself, for my neighbor. - - Why then, have they all employment but me, - Who lie lounging here like a dunce? - O then, like the Ant, and the Sparrow, and Bee, - I’ll go to my lesson at once. - - —_Jane Taylor._ - - - - -_Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake._ - - -[Illustration] - - Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s man! - So I will, master, as fast as I can: - Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T, - Put it in the oven for Tommy and me. - -[Illustration] - - - - - Three straws on a staff, - Would make a baby cry and laugh. - - - - -_Great A, Little a._ - - - Great A, little a, - Bouncing B! - The cat’s in the cupboard, - And she can’t see. - - - - -_Jack Sprat._ - - - Jack Sprat could eat no fat, - His wife could eat no lean; - Betwixt them both, they cleared the plate, - And licked the platter clean. - - - - -_As I Went to Bonner._ - - - As I went to Bonner, - I met a pig - Without a wig, - Upon my word and honour. - - - - -_A Riddle, a Riddle._ - - - A riddle, a riddle, as I suppose, - A hundred eyes, and never a nose. - - (_A cinder-sifter._) - - - - -_Is John Smith Within?_ - - - Is John Smith within?— - Yes, that he is. - Can he set a shoe?— - Ay, marry, two; - Here a nail, and there a nail, - Tick, tack, too. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -A CHILD’S THOUGHT OF GOD. - - -[Illustration] - - They say that God lives very high! - But if you look above the pines - You cannot see our God. And why? - - And if you dig down in the mines - You never see him in the gold, - Though from him all that’s glory shines. - - God is so good, He wears a fold - Of heaven and earth across His face— - Like secrets kept, for love, untold. - - But still I feel that His embrace - Slides down by thrills, through all things made. - Through sight and sound of every place: - - As if my tender mother laid - On my shut lids, her kisses’ pressure, - Half-waking me at night, and said: - “Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?” - - —_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - - - -SONG. - - - Flower in the crannied wall, - I pluck you out of the crannies;— - Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, - Little flower—but if I could understand - What you are, root and all, and all in all, - I should know what God and man is. - - —_Alfred, Lord Tennyson._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - Dare to be true.... Nothing can need a lie; - A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby. - - —_George Herbert._ - - - - -LADY MOON. - - -[Illustration] - - Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? - “Over the sea.” - Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? - “All that love me.” - - Are you not tired with rolling, and never - Resting to sleep? - Why look so pale and so sad, as forever - Wishing to weep? - - “Ask me not this, little child, if you love me: - You are too bold: - I must obey my dear Father above me, - And do as I’m told.” - - Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? - “Over the sea.” - Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? - “All that love me.” - - —_Lord Houghton._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -IN A CHILD’S ALBUM. - - - Small service is true service while it lasts; - Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one; - The Daisy, by the shadow that it casts, - Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun. - - —_William Wordsworth._ - - - - -_Mistress Mary._ - - - Mistress Mary, quite contrary, - How does your garden grow? - With cockle-shells, and silver bells, - And pretty maids all in a row. - - - - -_Handy Spandy._ - - - Handy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy, - Loved plum cake and sugar candy; - He bought some at a grocer’s shop, - And out he came, hop, hop, hop. - - - - -_About the Bush, Willy._ - - - About the bush, Willy, - About the bee-hive, - About the bush, Willy, - I’ll meet thee alive. - Then to my ten shillings - Add you but a groat, - I’ll go to Newcastle, - And buy a new coat. - Five and five shillings - Five and a crown; - Five and five shillings, - Will buy a new gown. - Five and five shillings, - Five and a groat; - Five and five shillings - Will buy a new coat. - - - - -_Little Jack Horner._ - - - Little Jack Horner - Sat in the corner, - Eating a Christmas pie; - He put in his thumb, - And he took out a plum, - And said, “What a good boy am I!” - - - - -_If I’d as Much Money._ - - - If I’d as much money as I could spend, - I never would cry old chairs to mend; - Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend; - I never would cry old chairs to mend. - - If I’d as much money as I could tell, - I never would cry old clothes to sell; - Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell; - I never would cry old clothes to sell. - - - - -_Pretty John Watts._ - - - Pretty John Watts, - We are troubled with rats, - Will you drive them out of the house? - We have mice too, in plenty, - That feast in the pantry; - But let them stay - And nibble away - What harm in a little brown mouse? - - - - -_This Pig Went to Market._ - - -[Illustration] - - 1. This pig went to market; - 2. This pig stayed at home; - 3. This pig had a bit of meat; - 4. And this pig had none; - 5. This pig said, “Wee, wee, wee! - I can’t find my way home.” - - - - -_The Rose is Red._ - - - The rose is red, the grass is green; - And in this book my name is seen. - - - - -LOVE BETWEEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS - - - Whatever brawls disturb the street, - There should be peace at home. - Where sisters dwell and brothers meet, - Quarrels should never come. - - Birds in their little nests agree; - And ’tis a shameful sight, - When children of one family - Fall out and chide and fight. - - —_Isaac Watts._ - - - - -BE GOOD. - - - Little children, we must seek - Rather to be good than wise; - For the thoughts we do not speak, - Shine out in our cheeks and eyes. - - - - -OLD RHYME. - - - Whichever way the wind doth blow, - Some heart is glad to have it so; - Then blow it East or blow it West, - The wind that blows—that wind is best. - - - - -THE CHRISTMAS STOCKING. - - -An ancient Italian legend tells how Good St. Nicholas of Padua first gave -presents on Christmas Eve by throwing purses in at the open windows of -needy people. Purses in those days were knitted of yarn and tied with -strings at the open ends. They were not unlike stockings, except that -they had no feet. People began to hang these long empty purses of yarn on -their window-sills on Christmas Eve, so that St. Nicholas, as he passed -by, could put money into them. When money became scarce the long purses -were filled with presents instead—useful things for the big people, and -books and toys for the children. - -In cold countries, where the windows could not be left open, folks hung -their purses near the fireplace, believing that St. Nicholas would come -down the chimney and leave his presents for them. And after the knitted -purses went out of fashion they hung up their stockings, which closely -resembled the old-time purses, so that there would be plenty of room for -the Christmas presents, and old St. Nicholas (Santa Claus), who lived on -through all the ages, would know he had been expected. - -That is how the Christmas stocking came to be used, and why it will -be used for many generations to come in thousands of homes on each -succeeding Christmas Eve.... - - —_L. Frank Baum._ - - - - -_I’ll Tell You a Story._ - - - I’ll tell you a story - About Jack a Nory— - And now my story’s begun, - I’ll tell you another - About Jack, his brother, - And now my story’s done. - - - - -_One, Two, Buckle My Shoe._ - - - One, two, - Buckle my shoe; - Three, four, - Shut the door; - Five, six, - Pick up sticks; - Seven, eight, - Lay them straight; - Nine, ten, - A good fat hen; - Eleven, twelve, - Who will delve? - Thirteen, fourteen, - Maids a-courting; - Fifteen, sixteen, - Maids a-kissing; - Seventeen, eighteen, - Maids a-waiting; - Nineteen, twenty, - My stomach’s empty. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE EAGLE. - - - He clasps the crag with crooked hands; - Close to the sun in lonely lands, - Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. - - The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; - He watches from his mountain walls, - And like a thunderbolt he falls. - - —_Alfred, Lord Tennyson._ - - - - -THE BEE AND THE FLOWER. - - - The bee buzz’d up in the heat. - “I am faint for your honey, my sweet.” - The flower said, “Take it, my dear; - For now is the spring of the year. - So come, come!” - “Hum!” - And the bee buzz’d down from the heat. - - And the bee buzz’d up in the cold - When the flower was withered and old. - “Have you still any honey, my dear?” - She said, “It’s the fall of the year, - But come, come!” - “Hum!” - And the bee buzzed off in the cold. - - —_Alfred, Lord Tennyson._ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT. - - The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea - In a beautiful pea-green boat; - They took some honey, and plenty of money - Wrapped in a five pound note. - The Owl looked up to the moon above, - And sang to a small guitar, - “O lovely pussy! O Pussy, my love, - What a beautiful Pussy you are,— - You are, - What a beautiful Pussy you are!” - - Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl! - How wonderful sweet you sing! - O let us be married,—too long we have tarried,— - But what shall we do for a ring?” - They sailed away for a year and a day - To the land where the Bong tree grows - And there in a wood, a piggy-wig stood - With a ring at the end of his nose,— - His nose, - With a ring at the end of his nose. - - “Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for a shilling - Your ring?” Said the piggy, “I will.” - So they took it away and were married next day - By the turkey who lives on the hill. - They dined upon mince and slices of quince, - Which they ate with a runcible spoon, - And hand in hand on the edge of the sand - They danced by the light of the moon,— - The moon, - They danced by the light of the moon. - - —_Edward Lear._ - - - - - I would not enter on my list of friends, - Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, - Yet wanting sensibility, the man - Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. - - —_William Cowper._ - - - - -MAKING EXCUSES. - - -A young American who had broken an appointment with Dr. Franklin, came to -him the following day prepared to make his peace with an apology. He was -making a tiresome excuse when Dr. Franklin stopped him, saying, “My dear -boy, say no more. You have, indeed, said too much already. For he who is -good at making an excuse, is seldom good at anything else.” - - —_Benjamin Franklin._ - - - - -EXTREMES. - - - I. - - A little boy once played so loud - That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud, - Said, “Since _I_ can’t be heard, why then, - I’ll never, never thunder again!” - - II. - - And a little girl once kept so still - That she heard a fly on the window-sill - Whisper and say to a lady-bird,— - “She’s the stillest child I ever heard!” - - —_James Whitcomb Riley._ - - - - -THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. - - - How pleasant it is at the end of the day, - No follies to have to repent; - But reflect on the past and be able to say, - That my time has been properly spent. - - When I’ve done all my work with patience and care, - And been good and obliging and kind, - I lay on my pillow and sleep away care, - With a happy and peaceable mind. - - But instead of all this, if it must be confessed, - That I careless and idle have been, - I lay down as usual and go to my rest, - But full discontented within. - - Then, as I don’t like all the trouble I’ve had, - In future I’ll try to prevent it, - For I never am naughty without being sad, - Or good—without being contented. - - —_Jane and Ann Taylor._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. - - - Buttercups and daisies, - Oh, the pretty flowers— - Coming ere the spring time, - To tell of sunny hours. - While the trees are leafless, - While the fields are bare, - Buttercups and daisies - Spring up here and there. - - Ere the snowdrop peepeth, - Ere the crocus bold, - Ere the early primrose - Opes its paly gold, - Somewhere on the sunny bank - Buttercups are bright; - Somewhere ’mong the frozen grass - Peeps the daisy white. - - Little hardy flowers, - Like to children poor, - Playing in their sturdy health - By their mother’s door, - Purple with the north wind, - Yet alert and bold; - Fearing not, and caring not, - Though they be a-cold! - - What to them is Winter! - What are stormy showers! - Buttercups and daisies - Are these human flowers! - He who gave them hardships - And a life of care, - Gave them likewise hardy strength - And patient hearts to bear. - - —_Mary Howitt._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -_A Farmer Went Trotting._ - - - A farmer went trotting - Upon his grey mare, - Bumpety, bumpety, bump! - With his daughter behind him, - So rosy and fair, - Lumpety, lumpety, lump! - - A raven cried “Croak!” - And they all tumbled down, - Bumpety, bumpety, bump! - The mare broke her knees, - And the farmer his crown, - Lumpety, lumpety, lump! - - The mischievous raven - Flew laughing away, - Bumpety, bumpety, bump! - And vowed he would serve them - The same next day, - Lumpety, lumpety, lump! - - - - -_Black We Are._ - - - Black we are, but much admired; - Men seek for us till they are tired; - We tire the horse, but comfort man; - Tell me this riddle if you can. - - (_Coals._) - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE LITTLE ELF. - - - I met a little Elf-man, once, - Down where the lilies blow. - I asked him why he was so small - And why he didn’t grow. - - He slightly frowned, and with his eye - He looked me through and through. - “I’m quite as big for me,” said he, - “As you are big for you.” - - —_John Kendrick Bangs._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE. - - - How doth the little busy bee - Improve each shining hour, - And gather honey all the day - From every opening flow’r! - - How skilfully she builds her cell! - How neat she spreads the wax! - And labors hard to store it well - With the sweet food she makes. - - In works of labor or of skill, - I would be busy, too; - For Satan finds some mischief still - For idle hands to do. - - In books, or work, or healthful play, - Let my first years be past, - That I may give for ev’ry day - Some good account at last. - - —_Isaac Watts._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -_The House that Jack Built._ - - -[Illustration] - - This is the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - - This is the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the maiden all forlorn, - That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - - This is the man all tattered and torn, - That kissed the maiden all forlorn, - That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the priest all shaven and shorn, - That married the man all tattered and torn, - That kissed the maiden all forlorn, - That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - - This is the cock that crowed in the morn, - That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, - That married the man all tattered and torn, - That kissed the maiden all forlorn, - That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - This is the farmer sowing his corn, - That kept the cock that crowed in the morn, - That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, - That married the man all tattered and torn, - That kissed the maiden all forlorn, - That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, - That tossed the dog, - That worried the cat, - That killed the rat, - That ate the malt - That lay in the house that Jack built. - - - - -A FAREWELL. - - -[Illustration] - - My fairest child, I have no song to give you; - No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray; - Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you - For every day. - - Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; - Do noble things, not dream them all day long - And so make life, death, and that vast forever, - One grand, sweet song. - - —_Charles Kingsley._ - - - - -THE LANGUAGE OF THE BIRDS. - - - Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove, - The Linnet and Thrush say, “I love and I love!” - In the winter they’re silent—the wind is so strong; - What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song. - But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, - And singing and loving all come back together. - - “I love, and I love,” almost all the birds say, - From sunrise to star-rise, so gladsome are they! - But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love, - The green fields below him, the blue sky above, - That he sings, and he sings; and forever sings he— - “I love my Love, and my Love loves me!” - - —_Samuel Taylor Coleridge._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -REMEDY FOR EVIL. - - - For every evil under the sun, - There is a remedy, or there is none. - If there be one, try and find it. - If there be none, never mind it. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -MEDDLESOME MATTY. - - - One ugly trick has often spoiled - The sweetest and the best; - Matilda, though a pleasant child, - One ugly trick possessed, - Which, like a cloud before the skies - Hid all her better qualities. - - Sometimes she’d lift the tea-pot lid, - To peep at what was in it; - Or tilt the kettle, if you did - But turn your back a minute. - In vain you told her not to touch, - Her trick of meddling grew so much. - - Her grandmamma went out one day, - And by mistake she laid - Her spectacles, and snuff-box gay - Too near the little maid; - “Ah! well,” thought she, “I’ll try them on, - As soon as grandmamma is gone.” - - Forthwith she placed upon her nose - The glasses large and wide; - And looking round, as I suppose, - The snuff-box, too, she spied: - “Oh! what a pretty box is that; - I’ll open it,” said little Matt. - - “I know that grandmamma would say, - ‘Don’t meddle with it, dear;’ - But, then, she’s far enough away, - And no one else is near: - Besides, what can there be amiss - In opening such a box as this?” - - So thumb and finger went to work - To move the stubborn lid, - And presently a mighty jerk - The mighty mischief did; - For all at once, ah! woeful case, - The snuff came puffing in her face. - - Poor eyes and nose, and mouth beside, - A dismal sight presented; - In vain, as bitterly she cried, - Her folly she repented. - In vain she ran about for ease; - She could do nothing now but sneeze. - - She dashed the spectacles away, - To wipe her tingling eyes, - And as in twenty bits they lay, - Her grandmamma she spies. - “Hey-day! and what’s the matter now?” - Says grandmamma, with lifted brow. - - Matilda, smarting with the pain, - And tingling still, and sore, - Made many a promise to refrain, - From meddling any more. - And ’tis a fact, as I have heard, - She ever since has kept her word. - - —_Ann Taylor._ - -[Illustration] - - - - -TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR. - - -[Illustration] - - Twinkle, twinkle, little star! - How I wonder what you are, - Up above the world so high, - Like a diamond in the sky. - - When the glorious sun is set, - When the grass with dew is wet, - Then you show your little light, - Twinkle, twinkle all the night. - - In the dark-blue sky you keep, - And often through thy curtains peep, - For you never shut your eye, - Till the sun is in the sky. - - As your bright and tiny spark - Guides the traveler in the dark, - Though I know not what you are, - Twinkle, twinkle, little star! - - —_Jane Taylor._ - - - - -THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOWWORM. - - - A nightingale that all day long - Had cheer’d the village with his song, - Nor yet at eve his note suspended, - Nor yet when eventide was ended, - Began to feel, as well he might, - The keen demands of appetite; - When looking eagerly around, - He spied far off, upon the ground, - A something shining in the dark, - And knew the glowworm by his spark; - So stooping down from hawthorn top, - He thought to put him in his crop. - The worm, aware of his intent, - Harangued him thus, right eloquent: - “Did _you_ admire my lamp,” quoth he, - “As much as I your minstrelsy, - You would _abhor_ to do me wrong, - As much as I to spoil your song; - For ’twas the self same power Divine - Taught _you_ to sing and _me_ to shine; - That you with music, I with light, - Might beautify and cheer the night.” - The songster heard his short oration, - And, warbling out his approbation, - Released him, as my story tells, - And found a supper somewhere else. - - —_William Cowper._ - -[Illustration] - - - - - If all the year were playing holidays, - To sport would be as tedious as to work. - - —_William Shakespeare._ - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LAND OF PLAY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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