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diff --git a/76071-0.txt b/76071-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d880df --- /dev/null +++ b/76071-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1640 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76071 *** + + + + + +[Illustration: + + Bow, wow, wow, whose dog art thou? + Little Tom Tinker’s dog, bow, wow, wow!] + + + + + Bed-Time Stories + + A COLLECTION + In Verse and In Prose + + [Illustration] + + ILLUSTRATED + + THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY + CHICAGO :: AKRON, OHIO :: NEW YORK + + MADE IN U. S. A. + + COPYRIGHT 1914 + BY + THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. + + + + +[Illustration: The Froggie who would sing] + + +“Croak! Croak! Croak!” sang the frog one fine summer evening. + +“Really,” he thought, “I have a very fine voice,” and the fishes putting +their heads out of the water thought so too. But fishes have no voice +at all, so perhaps that was why they thought the singing of the frog so +wonderful. Then, too, he was their next-door neighbor, and the doings of +next-door neighbors are sometimes thought more wonderful than the doings +of persons at a distance—though at other times it may be just the other +way about. + +Froggie was very proud of his voice, and as he knew the fishes were +proud of it too, he thought he would be sure to charm the world with +his singing. So he set off across the fields and sang to the little +field-mouse and the mole. + +[Illustration] + +But the field-mouse thought her own shrill note far finer than Froggie’s +coarse croaking, and did not pay much attention to him—in fact her +attention was very much taken up with a beautiful nest she had made of +grass, to keep her little ones warm and dry; while blind mole did not +even put his head above the ground to hear the singing, he was so busy +burrowing tunnels and making his wonderful fortress. + +Froggie left them in disgust, and journeyed on till he came to a garden. + +“Surely,” he thought, “in this beautiful place my singing will be +welcome.” + +But no one paid any attention to Froggie there; the bees were too busy +gathering nectar and pollen from the flowers to make honey and bee bread, +to feed the young bees at home in the hive. + +The summer was going fast and they knew they had also to get in store +for the winter, so they had no time to pay attention even to the finest +singing; while the bumble bee was buzzing away as fast as he could to get +back to his nest on some mossy bank. + +The butterflies had only a little while to live; and perhaps the only +thing they were thinking about, besides sipping some sweet juices from +the flowers, was where to find a nice leaf on which to lay some eggs, so +that when the little caterpillars were hatched they should have something +to eat. The caterpillar was just spending his life eating as much as he +could, so that he could turn into a beautiful moth by and by, and fly +about in the evening. + +[Illustration] + +The snail was going along very slowly, it is true, but as quickly as he +could, only thinking of finding some safe spot where a thrush could not +find him and break open his shell and eat him up. As for the spider, his +one care was to catch a passing fly or daddy-long-legs and make a good +meal. + +Even the flowers themselves did not pay any attention to poor Froggie. +Their own bright colors, they thought, were finer than any singing. +Besides, they were wondering whether the sunshine would last long enough +to ripen their seeds, so that they could come up again as flowers next +year. + +So in the evening Froggie hopped all the way back to his native pond, +where he found a brown bird singing a most beautiful song. It was the +nightingale. + +“Really,” thought Froggie, “I am no singer after all!” + +But one of the little fishes who saw his disappointment still thinks he +has a wonderful voice. + + + + +IT’S RAINING, IT’S POURING + + + It’s raining, it’s pouring; + I can’t go outdoors; + But I don’t mind so much for, you see, + Up here in the window + It’s comfy and warm, + And the rain sprites call greetings to me. + +[Illustration: The Rain Sprites Call Greetings to Me] + + + + +THE WIND’S FROLIC + + +[Illustration] + + “Now for a frolic, a jolly good frolic,” + The mischievous wind said in play, + “I’m tired of staying at home in the clouds, + I’m out for a frolic to-day. + ”Ah! There are some girls and some boys on their way + To school at the end of the lane, + I’ll just give a puff, send their hats all astray, + Then be off round the corner again. + + “Now, wasn’t that fun! How they laughed to be sure! + Do you see those fine apples up there? + I’ll shake them all down, + Then when school time is o’er + They’ll be plenty for all, and to spare. + + “Hurrah! Hip! Hurrah! Now for mother at home, + She’s been washing all day, so I’ll see + If I can dry her clothes with a few lively puffs, + Then I’m sure very happy she’ll be. + + “Now, I’ll just give a blow through the wood over there, + Fill the sails of the ship on the sea, + And with just one big puff, make it all a bit rough, + Then at home in two seconds I’ll be.” + + Marie L. Johnson. + +[Illustration] + + + + +PIP, POP, AND PEPPER + + +Pip, Pop, and Pepper were three little roly-poly pups. One morning Bruno, +their mother, left them fast asleep in her snug, warm kennel and went for +a walk. + +Presently little Maggie came tripping along all ready for fun and +mischief, and when she reached the kennel she stooped down and peeped +inside. + +“Oh, you darlings!” she cried when she saw the puppies. “Come along with +me and we’ll have some fun!” + +She dragged poor Pip, Pop, and Pepper out of the kennel and put them in +her apron. The puppies didn’t like it at all. They blinked their sleepy +eyes and gave little frightened squeaks, and wondered wherever in the +world they could be going. + +“Now, I think you shall walk,” said Maggie. And she sat down, and the +puppies rolled out of her apron on to the ground. + +They picked themselves up, so glad to be free, and before Maggie could +stop them off they ran, each a different way! + +“Come back, come back!” she cried, and raced after Pip. + +But Pip didn’t mean to be caught again just yet! He scampered in amongst +some bushes, and dodged Maggie in and out for a long, long time, until at +last he was so tired that he allowed her to pick him up. + +“And now, where are the other two?” said Maggie. Oh, where indeed! + +Pop ran into a chicken coop. And when Mrs. Hen came up with her fluffy +babes she found a funny little furry creature fast asleep in her house. + +She was very angry. She clucked, and flapped her wings, and was just +beginning to peck poor Pop when Maggie ran up and pulled him out. + +Then Maggie heard a terrible noise. And looking round she saw poor Pepper +surrounded by Puss and her three little kits with their backs up, hissing +and miaouing with all their might. + +“Bow-wow-wow-wow!” Off flew Puss and her kits, and scrambled up a tree. +The next moment Bruno came bounding up, and oh, wasn’t Maggie glad to +give Pip, Pop, and Pepper back into their mother’s charge! + + + + +THE SNOW MAN + + + On a winter’s night, when the moon was bright, + And the snow lay thick on the ground, + A little snow-elf came out by himself, + And took a good look around. + + And next, we made a large round ball + And fixed for it a head, + We gave him stones for eyes, and made + His mouth with paper, red. + + A piece of wood did for a nose, + We stuck it in all right; + Then placed the old hat on his head, + Oh dear! He was a sight! + + What fun we had that day! We boys + With holly trimmed his hat, + And then with snow we pelted him, + Until he grew quite fat. + + We called him “Punch,” and laughed until + It made the teardrops start. + What games we had! Alas, next day, + He died of “Melted Heart.” + + Marie L. Johnson. + +[Illustration] + + + + +WHEN THE OLD WOMAN MOVED FROM THE SHOE + + +[Illustration] + +There was once a little goblin woman who had six sons. They were very +ugly little boys with brown, wizened faces, and eyes as black as sloes. +They had very big heads, and though they were so fat, their legs were so +thin you wouldn’t believe! + +Now, the little goblin woman thought the world of her six little sons, +and she had given them all pretty flower names—Clover, Buttercup, Sorrel, +Bluebell, Cowslip, and Dandelion. + +The little goblin woman was very poor, but the way she managed was +something wonderful! She and her little family lived in a hollow tree, +with a little garden round it. There were three floors inside and a +little string ladder connected the rooms. The first floor was a kitchen. +It was ever so clean and cosy, and it was here that the family had meals, +and sat in the cold winter evenings round the little twig fire, listening +to the wind and rain outside. + +The next floor was a bedroom, and the top floor was the drawing-room. Its +walls were decorated with colored leaves, and it was here that visitors +were received. + +Well, one cold, rainy evening the whole family was sitting round +the kitchen fire drinking broth, when the little goblin woman said, +“Dandelion, it’s your turn to fetch the water to-night, dearie.” + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +“Yes, Mum,” said Dandelion; and taking his last drink of broth he ran to +wash his acorn cup and put it away. + +“You do make lovely broth, Mum,” said Clover, smacking his lips. + +“Not half!” cried the other five little goblins all together. + +“That’s right,” said the little goblin woman. “Good-bye, Dandelion lovie; +don’t be gone all night.” + +“Good-bye, Mum,” cried Dandelion, nearly hugging the little woman’s head +off; and away he ran with the wooden bucket over his head. + +He had not gone far through the forest when he heard a sound of crying. +So he took the bucket from over his head and looked about. Then it was +that he saw a great big shoe standing in a puddle, and it was from this +shoe that the sound of crying came. Dandelion crept nearer, and, looking +through a little hole in the heel, was just in time to see an old woman +smacking a wee girl about his own size. + +[Illustration] + +“Hi!” cried Dandelion, “stop that!” + +In her astonishment the old woman stopped, and the little girl scuttled +into the toe of the shoe. + +“May I come in?” said Dandelion, and without waiting for an answer he +scrambled through the hole and dropped into the shoe. The old woman +looked at him for a minute very angrily, then burst into tears. + +“Oh, the little wretches!” she cried; “they do lead me a life! Oh dear! +Oh dear! Oh dear! I’ve got so many children I don’t know what to do!” + +“How many?” asked Dandelion. + +“FIVE, if you’ll believe me!” cried the little dame; “and them always +getting into mischief.” + +[Illustration] + +“There’s six of us,” said Dandelion. + +“Oh, your poor ma!” cried the old woman with uplifted hands and upturned +eyes. + +“She likes it,” said Dandelion. + +“Don’t tell me!” cried the old woman. “I know what children are—always +disobedient. Why this very night E. and D. walked through the puddle +a-purpose.” + +“Who did?” asked Dandelion, thinking he had not heard aright. + +“E. and D., my dear,” answered the little woman. “I calls ’em by the +letters of the alphabet. It saves the trouble of thinking o’ names. I +called my eldest Arabella—Aida—Alice; but when they come so quick letters +was good enough. + +“Now, C.,” she broke off, “back to bed at once with you or I’ll whip you +again and you shan’t have any broth to-morrow.” + +[Illustration] + +Dandelion turned quickly and saw five little tear-stained faces peeping +at him from the toe of the shoe. + +“Perhaps,” he said softly, “if you didn’t whip ’em, they’d do as they +were told.” + +The old dame looked at him in astonishment. + +“And perhaps the broth isn’t so nice as what Mum makes,” added Dandelion. +“They couldn’t cry if they had a cup of her broth.” + +“Dear me!” cried the old woman; “what next!” + +“You come and see my Mum,” said Dandelion, “and have a talk to her. I’ll +call for you when I’ve fetched the water.” + +“Well, now,” said the old dame, “it ain’t often I goes on a little +visit. It’ll be a change.” And she put on her bonnet. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +That night the old woman woke the children up and gave them each a kiss, +which surprised them very much; but they were still more astonished when +she gave them each some broth with bread. + +“My dears,” she said, “you’re going to have bread in your broth every +night. And I’ve got a new soup recipe in my pocket. What’s more, we’ve +all been asked out to tea to-morrow, so I’m going to put your hair in +curl-papers.” + +“Oh, no, no!” screamed the children; “you’ll pull, and then we shall cry +and you’ll beat us!” + +“I ain’t going to beat you no more, my dears,” said the old woman, +kissing them all again. “I’ve learnt a lesson.” + + * * * * * + +“Come in, my dear, come in!” cried Mrs. Goblin. “I’ve lit a fire in the +drawing-room, so we can have a little talk while the children play in the +kitchen. And now, my dear,” she added, when they were alone, “now you are +here what’s to hinder you from stopping?” + +The old woman was crying for joy. “But so many children!” she said +presently. + +“The more the merrier! We’ll all live together and be as happy as the +night is short!” + +And so they did. + + + + +A SONG OF SPRING + + + The sun’s shining bright, + And the sky is blue, + The birds are singing, + And we sing too. + + The primroses bloom, + And the lambkins play; + Oh! sing for the joy + Of a glad spring day. + + + + +JOHNNY AND THE APPLES + + +[Illustration] + + As Johnny was going to school one fine day, + Some rosy-cheeked apples he saw o’er the way. + Inviting they looked, so he climbed up the tree, + And filled all his pockets. How naughty was he. + + He ate and he ate, till he felt a bad pain, + Then said he would never steal apples again. + The farmer came by with a stick in his hand, + And said, “Master Johnny, do you understand + + Those apples are mine? You are stealing them, so + I must punish you for it ere I let you go.” + So he whipped him and whipped him. Poor Johnny felt sore. + Sighed he, “Oh, I never will steal apples more!” + + That night, when the children came home from the school, + They said, because Johnny had broken the rule + By staying away without leave, he’d to stay + At the foot of the class through the whole next day. + + M. K. + + + + +MY KITTEN + + + Oh, my kitten, my kitten, + And oh, my puppy, my dearie, + I could play with you all day long + And not be the least bit weary. + My parasol keeps off the sun, + The flowers are sweet on the air; + There’s no other child in Japan + So happy and free from care. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN APRIL SHOWER + + +[Illustration] + +One day, little Simon Brownie said to his brothers, Joe and Sam, “I +would give the world if I could grow. I wish I was a giant instead of a +Brownie.” + +“Ha! Ha!” laughed Joe. + +“Ha! Ha!” laughed Sam. They thought it a fine joke. + +“If you want to grow so much,” said Joe, “you must eat plenty of +porridge.” + +Next morning at breakfast, Simon, to his mother’s surprise, asked for a +second helping of porridge. (As a rule he scarcely finished his first.) +For a whole week he did this, but not a tiny, wee bit did he grow. + +“Porridge is no use,” said Simon to Joe and Sam, “Can’t you think of +something else?” + +But his brothers shook their heads. Next day however they thought of +“something else.” + +Simon, tired out with play, had flung himself under a toad-stool for a +nap. + +“Let’s water him,” whispered naughty Joe to Sam, “the same as mother does +the flowers—that will make him grow.” + +And without wasting any more words, he ran home for his watering-can. +Presently Simon awoke all in a hurry, thinking that an April shower was +pouring down upon him. When he found out it was Joe who was watering him +with his can, he was at first quite angry. + +“Don’t be cross, Simon,” laughed Joe. “I only did it to make you grow!” + +And Simon who knew how to take a joke, laughed too. + +Since that day he has grown, not much bigger perhaps, but certainly +wiser. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + My maid Mary minds the dairy, + Makes the butter and cheese, + Spins the linen, tends the garden, + And keeps a hive of bees. + You wonder why she works so much? + She can’t be idle—Mary’s Dutch. + + + + +A BESIEGED BROWNIE + + +[Illustration] + +“I’m going on a voyage of discovery,” said Mr. Brownie to his wife, one +morning at breakfast. “You might pack me up a few sandwiches, my dear.” + +Of course Mrs. Brownie, being a kind wife, said, “Yes, with pleasure.” + +“Where are you going to, Daddy?” asked Bobby Brownie, who was rather a +pert little fellow. + +“I am going,” said his father in a very grand tone, “to discover the West +Pole.” + +“The West Pole!—Never heard of such a place! Where is it?” said Bobby. + +“It is close to where the sun sets,” was the reply. “The exact spot is +left for me to find out.” + +And shortly after breakfast Mr. Brownie started forth. + +He tramped a long, long distance until at last he came to a meadow near +a farm-house. Here he saw—not the West Pole but a toad-stool which had +sprung up in the night. + +“Dear me,” said he, looking at it all round, “this seems very ancient.” + +When he got on the top and was looking at it in wonder, the farmer’s +geese came and had something to say to him. + +“Who are you, when you’re at home?” they cried in goose language. “You +think yourself a very fine fellow, no doubt!” + +And there he sat, shaking like a leaf, besieged by the geese. + +When at last he did reach home in safety—after the geese had been called +to dinner—he had a wonderful story to tell. + +“So you never discovered the West Pole, after all,” said Bobby. + +“No,” replied Mr. Brownie, with great dignity, “but I discovered a +toad-stool and that was better than nothing.” + +And to this they all agreed. + + + + +THIS IS THE WAY THE FAIRIES RIDE + + + This is the way the fairies ride, + In taxicabs with wings, + In among the garden flowers, + Sailing ’round in rings; + And every one so happy that + Each cab and driver sings. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE BROWNIES’ CHRISTMAS PUDDING + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + Two Brownie men were Jack and Jock, + Said one, “When Christmas comes, + We’ll make a pudding for ourselves, + And stuff it full of plums.” + + And so they did—they mixed it well, + ’Twas quite a bit of fun! + They stirred it with a long, long pole, + And soon their task was done. + + They tied the pudding in a cloth, + These little Brownie men, + And then they put it in a pot, + To boil till nearly ten. + + But later on, I grieve to say, + They both received a shock, + They looked but found no pudding there + Alas, for Jack and Jock! + + ’Twas gone, but where, they never knew, + (And ne’er a Brownie knows,) + It vanished like a lovely dream, + As here the picture shows. + + Two little lads, brimful of fun, + With mischief in their eyes, + Went fishing from a chimney top + And stole away the prize. + + + + +MOON BABIES + + +[Illustration] + +How it happened little Evie could not quite make out, but one minute she +was lying in bed with her eyes wide open, and the next, she thought she +was high up in the sky, sitting in the moon, with brother Robbie by her +side. + +“Pleased to see you, my little dears,” said the Lady Moon, “but how did +you manage to get up so high?” + +“I don’t know,” replied Evie. “I expect we climbed up on a moonbeam.” + +“Well, now that you are here, I hope you will enjoy yourselves,” said the +Lady Moon, next. + +“We mean to,” answered Evie, and so said Robbie. He always agreed with +his sister. + +“Would you like to know our names, Lady Moon?” Evie put the question with +the sweetest little smile. + +“No,” said the Moon, “it doesn’t matter in the least to me what your +names are. I shall call you Moon Babies.” + +The sky now began to grow darker, and presently a bright, silvery star +peeped out and shone right over the little ones’ heads. It was just after +this that the moon babies grew sleepy. + +“Those chicks will soon be in Dreamland,” said the Moon to the Star. + +“No, we shan’t,” said Evie; “we are only making believe.” + +But the Lady Moon knew better. + +The next voice that little Evie heard in her ears was not that of either +the Moon or the Star. It was Nursie’s good-morning as she drew up the +blind to let in the sunshine. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE RUNAWAYS + + +[Illustration] + + The Walnut and the Cobnut run + As hard as they can go; + But Mr. Cracker’s legs are long, + And nuts are rather slow. + He’ll catch and crack them very soon, + But cracking doesn’t hurt; + So p’raps we’ll eat their kernels, + With an orange, for dessert. + + F. L. + + + + +THE PRINCESS AND THE FAIRY + + +Once upon a time a little girl was standing at the window of a large and +beautiful room. She was a Princess; she had a crown on her head, and she +was dressed in the grandest clothes that could be bought, but she looked +very cross. + +Presently a Fairy flew in at the window, and sat down on the ledge. The +Princess was not at all surprised, as there were a good many fairies +about in those days, and she had seen several before. + +“A penny for your thoughts,” said the Fairy. + +“If you mean that you will give me a penny if I tell you what I am +thinking about,” said the Princess, “I don’t want it. I have a purse full +of sovereigns in the ivory cabinet where I keep my toys.” + +“Oh, that must be nice,” said the Fairy; “how glad that child would be +who lives in the cottage over the road if she had some of your money.” + +The Princess looked quite interested at this. “How funny that you should +say that,” she said; “I was just thinking about her when you came in. I +do so wish that I were she.” + +“Indeed!” said the Fairy. + +“Yes,” said the Princess, “I watch her every day, and you can’t think +what a fine time she has. She can run out to play in the street whenever +she likes, and there is a dear baby for her to have games with. I mayn’t +run about out of doors for fear of spoiling my clothes, and I have no one +but grown-up people to keep me company. Then she sits on the door-step to +eat her dinner, while I have to sit on a chair covered with red velvet, +and have to be so careful not to spill anything, because the tablecloth +is made of the finest damask. And nobody scolds her when she gets dirty, +and she may kiss her mother whenever she likes. My mother says, ‘Don’t +touch me now, Josephine; can’t you see that I have just been powdered?’ +And there are lots and lots of other things that make me wish that I were +that little girl. Couldn’t you make us change places?” + +The Fairy looked rather grave, and said: + +“Yes, my little Princess, I could make you change places, but I am not +going to do so. I quite see that your life is not so pleasant as it might +be, but I happen to know that little girl very well, and I am afraid +that you would be no happier if you were in her place.” + +“Why?” asked the Princess. + +“Well,” said the Fairy, “for one thing, she hardly ever gets enough to +eat, and even the little she does have, is nothing like the dainty food +that is given you every day. In the winter the wind blows right through +her poor thin clothes; she has no bed, but has to lie on the bare floor +with a few old shawls and rags to cover her, and it is very cold and +damp, as there are holes in the roof through which the rain comes. Her +only toys are those that she picked up in the gutter. I could tell you +more things about her, but I mustn’t stop any longer, as I have to go +and amuse a child who has hurt its back and has to lie still all day. +Good-bye!” + +And then the Fairy spread her wings and flew away over the roofs and +chimney-pots. + +Though at first the Princess was disappointed that the Fairy would not +let her change places with the poor child whom she had envied so much, +she was very interested in what she had heard. As she grew older she +found out more about the poor folk who lived in that country, and when +she became Queen she did many things to help them. She never painted or +powdered her face, so that her own children could kiss her whenever they +liked. They only wore crowns on state occasions, and the clothes in which +they played, were ones which would not spoil easily. They had a garden +where they could dig and romp without being scolded; and when they in +turn grew up, they brought up their children in the same way. + +And perhaps that is why, now-a-days, the children of Kings and Queens +look just like ordinary boys and girls, and not like the ones in +picture-books. + + + + +HE WOULD THRIVE + + + He that would thrive + Must rise at five; + He that hath thriven + May lie till seven; + And he that by the plough would thrive, + Himself must either hold or drive. + + + + +PATIENT NEDDY + + +[Illustration] + +When Bob and Tommy went to the sea-side last year they had a very happy +time. + +Perhaps the thing that they enjoyed most of all was a ride on Neddy’s +back. Dear old Neddy—he was most patient. He would carry Bob and Tommy +together all along the sands and think himself well paid if a carrot was +given him at the end of the journey. + +One day Bob and Tommy had a fright. They were playing on a little island +when the tide was coming in. Soon there was water all around them. + +When their big sister, who was reading a book on the sea-shore, saw what +had happened, she gave a loud cry of alarm. + +At this moment up came Neddy’s master, holding the donkey by the bridle. + +“I think I can help you, Miss,” said the man, quick to see what was +wrong. “I’ll lead Neddy through the water, and he’ll soon bring the young +masters safe to shore.” + +And true enough he did. + +Dear good Neddy! He was given that day a splendid feast of carrots, and I +think he deserved them, do not you? + +Father has promised that he will buy Bob and Tommy a donkey for their +very own, and they are more pleased than ever. + + + + +JACK’S CASTLE + + +Some children were building castles on the sands. Amongst the number was +a little boy called Jack, and his voice could almost always be heard +above the rest. + +“Oh, look!” he cried, “look, Mabel, you are doing it badly! Why, it’s all +crooked; you’ll have to begin again,” and leaving poor Mabel, whose face +clouded with disappointment, he turned to a boy called Cedric. + +“My word, Ceddie,” he said, “you don’t know how to build castles! why, +yours looks like a church with a spire—you ought to make a round tower. +And just look at stupid Ella! She’s hardly begun yet, and doesn’t know +a bit how to do it.” And all this time Jack’s castle was getting bigger +and bigger, and though he thought he was doing it very cleverly, really +it was not like a castle at all. He was so busy finding fault with his +playmates that he had no time to think how to do his own work properly. +At last the other children grew so tired of his grumbling that they took +no more notice of him, and he had to play alone until his nurse took him +in to dinner. As soon as he had gone they all ran to look at his castle. + +“Why, it isn’t any more right than ours,” they cried, and in two minutes +they knocked it all down. + +When Jack came out to play in the afternoon he cried because his castle +had been spoiled. + + + + +PUT OUT OF ACTION + + +[Illustration] + + My name is Captain Wooden-head; + Of nothing I’m afraid; + To many a gallant fight I’ve led + The Nursery Brigade. + One day amidst the din and strife + (My post was always there) + I nearly lost my precious life— + A ball whizzed through the air! + + It put me out of action quite, + And—hero though I be— + No longer do I wish to fight, + A peaceful life for me! + + + + +A Visit to Rose Cottage + + +[Illustration] + +“Children,” said Mother, one morning, “I want you to take a basket of +eggs to Mrs. Brown at Rose Cottage, with my love.” + +Tom and Effie were quite willing, for they were very fond of Mrs. Brown. +The walk there was lovely—the skies were blue and the birds were singing +their sweetest songs. + +At last they reached the garden gate. “Oh,” cried little Effie, who was +carrying the basket of eggs, “just look, Tom! There’s a Billy goat in +the garden! Let us go and make friends with him.” + +“So we will,” said Tom. + +They had a goat at home and so were not in the least afraid. + +But Billy looked very fierce as the children drew near, as much as to +say, “Who are you?” + +Then he made a sudden rush at them. Effie in her fright, nearly flew +towards the gate, dropping her eggs on the way. Poor Tom, however, did +not escape so easily. The goat butted him into the air and soon the poor +little fellow lay sprawling on the ground. + +Mrs. Brown, hearing their cries, quickly came to their help, and soothed +away their fears. + +“How dare you be so rude, naughty Billy?” she said to the goat. + +And Billy looked quite ashamed of himself, as well he might. + +Since that day, he has learnt better manners, and now he is very pleased +to see the little pair when they come to pay a visit to Rose Cottage. + + + + +[Illustration: The Story of the Three Bears] + + +Once upon a time there were three bears. They lived in a cottage by the +wood. + +First you saw a little green gate opening on to a garden path with a +box-border on either side. Behind the box-border were all sorts of sweet +flowers—pinks, gilly-flowers, and pansies, boy’s-love, rosemary, and +sweet lavender. Behind the flowers grew gooseberry and currant-bushes, +and behind the currant bushes cabbages, carrots and onions for dinner. + +The straight path led to the cottage door all covered with roses and +honeysuckle. Such pink roses and such sweet honeysuckle, just the sort +the bees love best, for bears like honey, and the bee-hives were behind. + +The door stood open to let in the air and the sunshine, and because doors +were made, in those days, to let people in, and not keep them out. + +[Illustration] + +Inside was the nicest, cleanest kitchen you ever saw, with a table in the +middle, as white as soap and scrubbing could make it. Against the wall +stood a tall dresser covered with bright pewter plates, hanging cups and +jugs, and all things such as bears might use. A pepper-pot, you may be +sure, and a tureen with string and odd things in it. + +The three chairs just suited, for there was a great, huge arm-chair for +Mr. Bear, who was big and heavy; a middling-sized chair for Mrs. Bear, +who was middling-sized; and a small, wee chair for little Master Bear, +who was small and wee. + +The fireplace, with its open chimney (it had a green frill on a string +under the mantle-shelf) was the cosiest in all the land, as Mr. Bear very +well knew when he smoked his pipe there on a winter night. + +In one corner of the kitchen was a door that opened on to the stairs, and +up the stairs they went to bed every night. The bedroom had three beds +in it that any one might like to see. A great, huge one for Mr. Bear, a +middling-sized one for Mrs. Bear, and a small, wee one for little Master +Bear. All was sweet and airy, and the window looked out into the garden, +and the roses looked in at the window, and the wind whispered in the +trees outside. + +[Illustration] + +Now it happened one summer morning that Mrs. Bear got up earlier than +usual to make the porridge for breakfast, and it happened, too, that +when she put it out to cool in three willow-pattern bowls on the table +(a great, huge bowl for Mr. Bear, who was so big; a middling-sized bowl +for Mrs. Bear, who was middling-sized; and a small, wee bowl for little +Master Bear, who was small and wee) that she went to the foot of the +stairs, and called aloud to Mr. Bear: “Make haste down, and we will go +for a walk in the wood while the porridge is cooling.” + +“Very well, my dear,” said Mr. Bear, in his great rough voice; and then +down he came, with little Master Bear scrambling down behind him. + +Now when great, huge Mr. Bear came down the stairs, you can be sure that +he caused every board in the cottage to creak, and the thud of each tread +was so very heavy that all the cups on the dresser shook. That tells you +how huge and big he was. + +Mrs. Bear heard him coming and took her bonnet from its peg, and when +the strings were tied beneath her chin, and Mr. Bear had taken his thorn +stick from the corner, and little Master Bear had found his butterfly +net, they all set off in the wood for a walk, clicking the gate behind +them. + +Such a lovely June morning for an early walk. The birds sang, the breeze +fluttered Mrs. Bear’s skirts and Master Bear’s butterfly net, and the dew +was on the grass and hung all shimmering in the cobwebs. + +As to the wood, it was cool and shady, and the three bears were soon out +of sight. + +[Illustration] + +Then there came to the gate a little girl named Silverhair. She was hot +and tired, and said to herself: “Here is a sweet cottage; perhaps the +good woman who lives here will give me some milk and a rest. I’ll knock +at the door and see.” + +So up the straight path she walked, with the box-border on either side. + +“Rat-a-tat,” she knocked. + +But nobody said “come in.” + +“Rat-a-tat-a-tat” once more, but nobody said “come in.” + +[Illustration] + +Then again louder than before, but all was still. So, being very hungry, +and not so shy as she ought to have been before such a sweet, open door, +in she peeped, and then in she went, and the very next minute she was +tasting Mr. Bear’s porridge. But it was too hot, and she let the spoon +fall with a clatter on the table. Then she tried Mrs. Bear’s porridge, +but that was too cold, and then she went to little Master Bear’s +porridge, and that was so nice, neither too hot nor too cold, that she +ate it all up till she could see the blue pattern at the bottom of the +bowl quite plain. + +That was sad, for it was not her porridge! Little Silverhair was quite +naughty now! + +[Illustration] + +After her breakfast she felt how tired she was, so she sat down in Mr. +Bear’s arm-chair, but that was too hard. Then she sat down in Mrs. Bear’s +chair, but that was too soft; she thought it quite stuffy for so warm +a morning, and she was now hard to please, for Mrs. Bear’s chair was +covered with pretty white chintz with rose-buds on it, and what more +could she want? + +But she was very naughty now! She sat down quite roughly in little Master +Bear’s chair, and sat the bottom out, and was not dismayed! No, up she +jumped, and looked about till she saw the door in the corner. Then she +tripped upstairs, and threw herself down on Mr. Bear’s bed. But that was +too hard. Then on Mrs. Bear’s bed, but that was too soft. And last of all +she tried little Master Bear’s little wee bed, and that was neither too +hard nor too soft, but just right. + +[Illustration] + +In two minutes she was fast asleep, with the breeze from the window +blowing on her soft silver hair. + +Now between conversation and butterflies the three Bears had let the time +pass, till suddenly Mrs. Bear saw by the shadows of the trees on the +grass that the porridge must be cool. + +“We must turn, and walk faster home,” she said. + +“Very well, my dear,” said Mr. Bear in his great, huge voice. But the +birds in the wood did not flutter, for they knew quite well what a kind +heart he had, and how he kept crumbs on his window-sill. + +When they got to the gate that they had clicked behind them, it was open, +and Mr. Bear hurried on to see who had come. He hurried on till, when +Mrs. Bear and the little one came in, he was standing before his porridge +bowl with a sad face, and his spectacles pushed on his forehead. + +“Someone has been at my porridge,” he said, very loud indeed. + +[Illustration] + +Poor Mrs. Bear! She looked at her own bowl, threw up her hands, and +said in her middling-sized way, “Oh, deary me, someone has been at my +porridge!” + +Then little Master Bear tossed his butterfly net into the corner and ran +to the table, but though he tipped up his bowl till the pattern was plain +to see on the bottom, not so much as one drop of milk could he get from +out of it, and he cried in his shrill little voice, “Someone has been at +my porridge, and has eaten it all up!” + +Then there was great uneasiness in the mind of Mr. Bear, and he turned to +his chair and saw how it was pulled from the wall in a very unusual way. +“Someone has been sitting in my chair,” he said. + +Mrs. Bear turned to hers, and saw that the cushions were all in disorder. +“Oh, deary me!” she said, “someone has been sitting in my chair.” + +[Illustration] + +Then Master Bear, leaving his empty bowl, hustled up to see; and now it +was “Oh, deary me,” and no mistake, for when he saw his little chair all +broken and spoiled he cried out at the top of his wee voice, “Someone has +been sitting in my chair, and has sat the bottom out!” + +No time was to be lost in such sad straits, and Mr. Bear had his foot on +the stairs before Mrs. Bear had so much as decided how the little chair +could be mended. She felt sorely puzzled, but, picking up her gown in +front, she followed Mr. Bear up the stairs, while little Master Bear +clambered, heavy-hearted, up behind her, holding on very tight to the +back breadth of her skirt, for who could tell what would happen next! + +[Illustration] + +Once in the room, they all went to the big bedstead that had been made so +strong for Mr. Bear by the village carpenter, who knew how to please his +customers. + +When they saw the clothes so tumbled, it was no wonder that Mr. Bear +should thunder out, “Someone has been sleeping on my bed!” + +Poor Mrs. Bear! she turned round to look at her own white bed, with its +pretty dimity curtains, and she called out in her middling-sized way, +“Oh, deary, deary, deary me, someone has been sleeping on my bed!” Her +feelings and the counterpane were sadly ruffled. + +Master Bear then left go of her gown, and crept away to his own little +corner. + +[Illustration] + +And what did he find? Fast asleep, with her hand tucked under her cheek, +and her hair all tossed about on the pillow, lay little Silverhair, +dreaming of porridge and broken chairs. How pleased the wee Bear was! He +piped out in his small, wee voice, “Someone has been sleeping on my bed, +and here she is fast asleep!” + +But the last word sounded so loud in Silverhair’s ear, that it woke her +with a start, and before the three Bears could tell what to do next, she +had jumped out of bed and then out through the window, brushing the dew +off the roses as she went; and those three Bears never, never, never saw +her any more. + +[Illustration] + + + + +BABY BLUE EYES + + +One night when the moon was big and round, Baby Blue-eyes was lost. Dear, +oh, dear, there was a terrible upset in Babyland! + +Said Chubby-face, the Infant Queen, “I’m not going to rest till Blue-eyes +is found.” + +And starting forth with Rosy-cheeks, her little maid-of-honor, she began +her search. + +At last—oh, what joy filled her heart!—she found little Blue-eyes fast +asleep near a toad-stool! + +“We won’t waken her, she is sleeping so sweetly,” she said. + +And so the pair of them, (Chubby-face perching herself on the roof of the +toad-stool,) kept guard till Blue-eyes awoke with a smile. + +[Illustration] + + + + +SWINGING + + + Watch us go, + —John and I— + Down so low, + Up so high! + All the Summer weather, + While the birds are singing, + John and I are swinging, + —John and I together! + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + This is the house that Jack built, + A bird house for the lawn. + It’s finished now—all but the paint— + Jack’s worked since early dawn. + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF KITTY + +Told by Herself—and Quite True + + +My name is Kitty. If you ask, “Who gave you that name?” I am sure I could +not tell you. + +I hardly know where I was born, but they told me that I first saw the +light in a wood-shed. I never remember my father, but I have very happy +memories of my kind, gentle, gracious, good mother. Her name was Fluffy. +There were four of us altogether—I mean four kitten-babies—and I was the +youngest—at least, so I was told. + +I was only about three weeks old when a great sorrow came into my +life. One morning a big, burly, but ever so kind gentleman came to the +wood-shed and said something about his pretty daughter, who had recently +“gone to housekeeping,” and that, being alone all day, she would dearly +love to have a bright little kitten for company. And I was chosen, so off +I had to go. + +I was taken gently by the neck and lifted into what looked like an +egg-basket, and in a few minutes I was brought to a sweet little home. +I fell in love with my new mistress at first sight, and as for my new +master, he treated me ever so kindly, and I learned to love him very +sincerely. + +I had never tasted milk—in fact, I didn’t know what it was, whether it +was blue, grey, white, brown, or red. + +Soon after my arrival my new mistress (who bore the sweet name of Lily) +brought me some white liquid in a saucer. I wondered what it was. As +she watched and waited, I did the same. At last she took my wee little +head in her long, thin, white hand and dipped it in the white liquid. +I thought it was rude. My mouth, nose, and lips being covered with the +white stuff, I quickly licked it off. What else could I do? + +[Illustration] + +When I tasted the fluid I found out how nice it was, and began to lap it +up at a great rate. Then it was I found out it was milk she had given me. +I got quite fond of it, and had a regular supply night and morning. And I +always said “Thank you, ma’am,” by giving a gentle purr. + +Then at dinner-time my young master, Mr. Fred, gave me some choice, +dainty bits off his plate, which I greatly enjoyed. + +When I arrived at this pretty cottage, I was so small, I looked just like +a bundle of grey worsted; but day by day I was getting bigger, fatter, +and nicer-looking—I was indeed. Don’t think I’m vain—I’m not; but when a +sweet young mistress says “Pretty Kitty” twenty-seven times every day, +what can I think but that I am a fascinating, good-looking little puss? + +[Illustration] + +Soon after my home-coming, another big sorrow came into my kitten life. +My dear young mistress was taken seriously ill, and had to go to bed—and +stay there. The doctor was called, and came nearly every day. I was +nearly broken-hearted, and every chance I got I rushed upstairs, so as to +tell, in my simple, loving way, how sorry I was for all the trouble that +had come to my dearest earthly friend. I sprang on to the bed, walked +over the counterpane, and reached the white pillow on which lay the head +of my sweet young mistress. I purred very gently, rubbed my nose against +her cheek, and said, in the best possible way (to a kitten), “How sorry I +am! Do make haste and get well again; I do miss you so!” + +Once or twice I’m afraid I woke her out of a sweet sleep, but how should +I know she was asleep? Nobody told me. So I was seized by my neck, and +put out of the room a good many times. But every time the kind nurse +opened the door, I rushed in again, sprang on the bed, and said, “I’m so +sorry,” ever so many times. And sometimes, in the dark night, or early +hours of the morning, I would creep up to the bedroom door, and cry as +loudly as I could. + +At last a crisis came, and to me it was a big crisis—my third trouble, +and I was only six weeks old! I was to be sent away, because I was so +troublesome. I thought it was very, very hard, and I cried about it for +three and three-quarter minutes, and thirteen long seconds after that. +Wherever was I to be sent? + +One evening a tall, kindly-looking gentleman came to our house, and my +young master said to him, “Father, can you take charge of Kitty for a +few days, until Lily gets better?” + +“All right, my boy,” was the cheery reply. I liked his voice and manner. +My fears were soon set at rest, for I felt sure he would make my short +visit as cosy and comfortable as he possibly could. A few minutes later +he took me up by my neck, laid me gently on his arm, and took me out into +the dark and stormy night. But I wasn’t afraid, not one little bit, for +all the way my new master kept saying, “Poor little Kitty.” But it was +the way he said it that made such an impression on me. + +We had not far to go—only about three minutes’ walk. My new home was, if +possible, even better than the one I’d left—so cosy-comfy like. Having +had my supper, I lay down on the hearthrug before a big fire, and was +soon fast asleep. But I got a rude awakening, and nine times as big a +fright! + +I had only been asleep about a quarter of an hour when I felt something +cold touching my nose. I wondered what on earth it was. Looking up, I +saw a big Tom-cat staring at me wildly and jealously. He seemed to say, +“What are you doing here? Don’t you know you’re sleeping in my place? +This is my home, not yours!” + +I sprang to my feet and faced Impy. He was a big, black fellow, eight or +ten times as big as I was, with eyes flashing like automobile lights. +And yet, strange to say, I wasn’t a bit afraid, that is, not after the +first startling. I stared at him, put my little back up, and spat at +him—real hard! Yes, and I frightened him too, for after a low growl he +turned away, scowling at me, and went off to the kitchen to tell Nellie, +the maid, all about me. So I lay down to sleep again, and enjoyed a good +night’s rest. + +[Illustration] + +The next day I had another fright. At my new home lived a big collie dog, +called Bunty, and the next morning I had to be introduced. Bunty and I +were soon fast friends. Instead of scowling at me as Impy had done, he +came and looked at me ever so kindly, and kissed me, as if to say, “I +like the looks of you; let’s be friends.” And we were, all the time I +stayed there. He often gave me warm kiss-licks, and loved to have me play +with his long, shaggy tail, climb over his back, and lie by his side and +purr. + +It was very nice, and I shall love Bunty all the days of my life. If ever +I get married—and I don’t see why I shouldn’t—I shall dearly love to have +Bunty come and stay with us, and make his visit as long as he possibly +can. He will always be a welcome guest. + +[Illustration] + +But one day I nearly lost his love and affection. It came about in this +way. Wandering in the kitchen one day, early after dinner, I saw Bunty +busy enjoying a mutton-bone feast. I did long for a bit. So I made a dash +for Bunty’s bone, yes, and I got it, too! Off I ran into the dining-room +with the bone in my mouth, the big collie chasing me. How I managed to +carry it I don’t know, for the bone was nearly as big as I was. I hid, +but Bunty found me, and got his bone; the wonder is, he didn’t bite me +for being so greedy. As it was, he only growled, and was ever so kind and +forgiving—later on. + +I soon found out that my new master was a big tease. He used to tumble me +over on my back and tickle me so earnestly, I had to scratch and bite him +real hard, so as to defend myself. But he did not seem to mind—not he! + +One night I got lost. When the front door was opened I ran out into the +road and had a merry scamper. I tried to find my way back, but couldn’t. +What was I to do? It was a cold, bitter night, and I was a stranger in +those parts. Still, I felt I ought to do my best. So I ran up to what I +thought was my new master’s front door and cried. A kind little girl let +me in, and I soon found I was in the wrong house. I did not mind that so +much, so long as I had got in somewhere. They were very kind to me, gave +me some milk, and said “Pretty Pussy” a good many times. + +[Illustration] + +The next morning Nellie, the maid, called over the garden wall, “Has a +stray kitten come to your house?” + +“Yes,” replied the little girl, Kathleen. “Do you want her?” + +Of course they did, and soon I was safely lodged at Jasmine Villa. But +when my dear young mistress got well, I joyfully went back, and said how +grateful I was to get home again. + + + + +A COMFORTER + + + Don’t cry, little brother; + I know that you fell, + But the place isn’t bleeding— + It soon will be well. + + Dry your eyes, little brother; + You’re growing so tall + And it’s only a baby + Who cries at a fall. + + But hark, little brother, + I hear the birds sing! + —We’ll play I’m a Duchess, + And you are a King! + + So come, little brother, + I’ll make you a crown + Of the pretty white daisies + That grow on the down. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration: A DUTCH VILLAGE.] + + +There is a little Dutch village called Volendam. Most of the men are +fishermen, and wear tight blouses of crimson or blue, and large, baggy +trousers coming down to their ankles. + +The little boys, even the tiniest ones, are dressed just like their +fathers and their big brothers. Sometimes they are to be seen walking +up and down the narrow streets of the village with their hands in their +pockets, trying to look like the men. + +The women and girls wear white lace caps and a great many woolen +skirts—sometimes as many as eight or ten; and the more they wear the more +they are admired by their neighbors. Even the tiny girls of two or three +years old are dressed just like their mothers. + +All the people wear wooden shoes, and as most of the streets are paved +with tiles the people make a great noise as they clatter up and down. +These wooden shoes look very big and clumsy, but the children manage to +run about in them just as easily as you do in yours. + +[Illustration] + +Nearly every woman and girl in Volendam wears a necklace of coral beads. +And nearly every man and boy wears two big silver buttons; the richer a +man is, the larger are his silver buttons. + +The Dutch people keep their houses and streets very clean. They are +always scrubbing their houses inside or out, and the little girls have to +help in this as well as their big sisters. + + + + +THE BIRTHDAY PARTY + + + “Will you please come to my party,” wrote Margaret to Nell, + To Dorothy and Frederick and Baby May as well. + Also to Jack and Marjory, to Barbara and Kate, + And many other friends besides whose names I won’t relate. + + “And as it is my birthday and at last I shall be six, + We are to have a conjurer to show us wondrous tricks. + Some games and dancing after that, so please do not forget + To come quite punctually at four—your loving Margaret.” + + The invitations were sent round, and as you well may guess, + The answers soon came pouring in, and every one said “Yes.” + The time seemed long to wait, and when the glad day came at last, + They all arrived at four o’clock and not a moment past. + + And everybody brought a gift to little Margaret, + Because it was her birthday, and because she was a pet. + Of dolls and toys and picture books she soon had quite a store + Piled up around her on the chairs, and some upon the floor. + + That was a splendid party, and the conjurer was grand, + I really think he must have come direct from Fairyland. + And how the children romped and played, with all their might and main, + Till it was time to go—then they wished they could begin again! + + + + +THE WANDERING DUCKLINGS + + +[Illustration] + + Six little Ducklings went waddling away + Over the common one fine summer day; + Six little Ducklings went plump in the pond, + For of the water you know they are fond. + + Six little Ducklings went swimming about, + Each with their yellow webbed feet turning out. + One little Duckling took fright at a cat, + Puss would not hurt him—he did not know that. + + One little Duckling went wand’ring away, + Nobody found him until the next day. + + Four little Ducklings were left then you know, + Home o’er the common deciding to go. + Two little Ducklings then found a big snail + Just by the well-side, at back of the pail, + + Catching and eating him took them some time, + They lost their way back, ’twas dusk and past nine. + One little Duckling was caught with great joy + Bobby Bright fancied that he was a toy. + + One little Duckling arrived home forlorn, + Poor old Duck mother was hunting ’till dawn; + Five little Ducklings were found the next day, + Never again will they wander away. + + Kate Ashley. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE DOLLIES’ REVENGE + + +Eveline, Arabella, and Peg were having a great discussion, seated on a +large cushion where their mistress had left them when she went to bed. + +“It isn’t fair!” exclaimed Arabella, shaking herself. “Here I can +scarcely bend because she has stuck a pin right through me. It goes in at +my waist and out at my back, and the bit that sticks out at my back, she +hung my sash on and thought it wonderful!” + +[Illustration] + +“Yes, she treats our nice, soft bodies just like pin-cushions,” agreed +Eveline. “And her mother has given her a nice work-basket with needles, +scissors, and a thimble in, and plenty of tapes and buttons, and she is +always trying to make her sew neatly, yet just look at us!” + +“But what about me?” chimed in wooden Peg. “My master hasn’t a +work-basket, and when he wanted to stick this piece of cloth on my head +for a cap, he just got a tack and hammered it in! And there it will +remain until he wants a tack again, and then he’ll know where to find it.” + +“Well, of course your feelings are not so keen as ours,” sniffed Eveline. +“I am not very big, but I have five pins in me, and one is to keep my +stocking up, and she has tied a piece of cotton so tightly round the +other that it’s cutting into my leg.” + +“Well,” said Arabella, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. To-morrow when she +picks us up we will make all these pins scratch her; we will scratch her +so much that she will be glad to take them all out and put buttons on.” + +The next day when Doris picked up Eveline she suddenly screamed, “Oh, +mother, see how I have pricked myself on this nasty pin! Oh, it does +hurt!” + +Mother looked grave. + +“If my little girl would try to sew as mother wants her to, there would +be no nasty pins, dear.” + +Doris thought a moment and then picked up Arabella. There was another +cry, and a scratch on her wrist. “Oh, mother,” sobbed Doris, “they have +hurt me all over. Now I won’t put any more pins in, I won’t really! I’ll +start now and learn to sew, mother.” + +So Doris put tapes on all her dollies’ clothes. Indeed, she even put +tapes on Peg’s hat and tied it under her chin for her, and Jim was very +glad, because he was wanting the tack. + + Isabel Rayfield. + + + + +A JOLLY FROG + + +[Illustration] + + A jolly little frog was he, + Whose heart was always gay, + He never looked the darkest side, + However dull the day. + + When other frogs in weary tones, + Declared the weather hot, + He croaked his happy little song, + And chose a shady spot. + + One day he nearly came to grief + When swimming in the pool, + A naughty, horrid little boy + Stood by the waters cool. + + At Master Frog he threw a stone, + “I’ll make you hop!” said he, + He missed his aim, and Froggie hopped + In safety home to tea. + + If any harm had come to him, + I think I should have cried, + For he was quite his mother’s pet, + His daddy’s joy and pride. + + He never once forgot to do + The thing that he was bid, + Did e’er you meet such little frog? + I’m sure you never did! + + + + +WAS EVER HEARD SUCH NOISE? + + + Was ever heard such noise and clatter? + Billy’s got a drum. + Guess we’ll have to leave this flat or + Bribe him to keep “mum.” + +[Illustration: BILLY’S GOT A DRUM] + + + + +THE MAN IN THE MOON + + +[Illustration] + + The Man in the Moon looked down at the earth, + With a smile that was gay but pensive; + “I’d like to visit that place,” he said, + “But traveling’s so very expensive.” + + + + +THE GRASSHOPPER + + + Old Daddy Grasshopper’s keeping a school, + Funniest ever was seen; + All the wee grasshoppers stand, as a rule, + Dressed in their jackets of green. + + No little grasshopper’s ever a dunce, + Plenty of leisure for play. + Old Daddy Grasshopper shows him but once, + Then he goes hopping away. + + Learning to hop, hoppity hop! + Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity hop! + Out in the sun, isn’t it fun, + Learning to hoppity hop! + + Grasshoppers learn to sing as they go, + Clapping their green shiny wings; + Though it is funny, ’tis true, as you know, + That’s how the grasshopper sings. + + All in the summer-time, under the grass, + Or where the wild flowers grow, + If you but listen, you’ll hear as you pass, + Singing and hopping they go. + + Marie L. Johnson. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76071 *** |