But the big round eyes of the wise old cat
See what the five little mice are at.
Quickly she jumps!—but the mice run away,
And hide in their snug little holes all day.
“Feasting in pantries may be very nice;
But home is the best!” say the five little mice.
FIVE LITTLE MICE.
Emilie Poulsson. Cornelia C. Roeske.
|
1. Five little mice on the pantry floor, Seeking for bread crumbs or something more; Five little mice on the shelf up high, Feasting so daintily on a pie— But the big round eyes of the wise old cat See what the five little mice are at. Quickly she jumps! but the mice run away. And hide in their snug little holes all day. “Feasting in pantries may be very nice; But home is the best!” say the five little mice. |
X.—THE SQUIRREL
“Little squirrel, living there
In the hollow tree,
I’ve a pretty cage for you;
Come and live with me!
“You may turn the little wheel—
That will be great fun!
Slowly round, or very fast
If you faster run.
“Little squirrel, I will bring
In my basket here
Every day a feast of nuts!
Come, then, squirrel dear.”
But the little squirrel said
From his hollow tree:
“Oh! no, no! I’d rather far
Live here and be free!”
So my cage is empty yet,
And the wheel is still;
But my little basket here
Oft with nuts I fill.
If you like, I’ll crack the nuts,
Some for you and me,
For the squirrel has enough
In his hollow tree.
THE SQUIRREL.
Emilie Poulsson. Cornelia C. Roeske.
|
1. “Little Squirrel, living there In the hollow tree, I’ve a pretty cage for you; Come and live with me! You may turn the little wheel— That will be great fun! Slowly round, or very fast If you faster run.” 2. “Little Squirrel, I will bring In my basket here Every day a feast of nuts! Come then, squirrel dear.” But the little squirrel said From his hollow tree: “Oh! no, no! I’d rather far Live here and be free.” 3. So my cage is empty yet And the wheel is still; But my little basket here Oft with nuts I fill. If you like, I’ll crack the nuts, Some for you and me, For the squirrel has enough In his hollow tree. |
XI.—THE SPARROWS.
“Little brown sparrows,
Flying around,
Up in the tree-tops,
Down on the ground,
“Come to my window,
Dear sparrows, come!
See! I will give you
Many a crumb.
“Here is some water,
Sparkling and clear;
Come, little sparrows,
Drink without fear.
“If you are tired,
Here is a nest;
Wouldn’t you like to
Come here to rest?”
All the brown sparrows
Flutter away,
Chirping and singing,
“We cannot stay;
“For in the tree-tops,
’Mong the gray boughs,
There is the sparrows’
Snug little house.”
THE SPARROWS.
Emilie Poulsson. C.C. Roeske.
|
1. “Little brown sparrows, Flying around, Up in the tree-tops, Down on the ground, Come to my window, Dear sparrows, come! See! I will give you Many a crumb.” 2. “Here is some water, Sparkling and clear; Come, little sparrows, Drink without fear. If you are tired, Here is a nest; Wouldn’t you like to Come here and rest?” 3. All the brown sparrows Flutter away, Chirping and singing, “We cannot stay; For in the tree-tops, ’Mong the gray boughs, There is the sparrows’ Snug little house.” |
XII.—THE COUNTING LESSON.
| (Right hand.) Here is the beehive. Where are the bees? Hidden away where nobody sees. Soon they come creeping out of the hive— One!—two!—three! four! five! |
(Left hand.)
Once I saw an ant-hill
With no ants about;
So I said, “Dear little ants,
Won’t you please come out?”
Then as if the little ants
Had heard my call—
One! two! three! four! five came out!
And that was all!
THE COUNTING LESSON.
Emilie Poulsson. C.C. Roeske.
|
1st Verse. 1. Here is the beehive. Where are the bees? Hidden away where nobody sees. Soon they come creeping out of the hive— One!—two!—three! four! five! 2nd Verse. 2. Once I saw an ant hill With no ants about; So I said, “Dear little ants, Won’t you please come out?” Then as if the little ants Had heard my call— One! two! three! four! five came out! And that was all! |
XIII.—MRS. PUSSY’S DINNER.
Mrs. Pussy, sleek and fat,
With her kittens four,
Went to sleep upon the mat
By the kitchen door.
Mrs. Pussy heard a noise—
Up she jumped in glee:
“Kittens, maybe that’s a mouse!
Let us go and see!”
Creeping, creeping, creeping on,
Silently they stole;
But the little mouse had gone
Back within its hole.
“Well,” said Mrs. Pussy then,
“To the barn we’ll go;
We shall find the swallow there
Flying to and fro.”
So the cat and kittens four
Tried their very best;
But the swallows flying fast
Safely reached the nest!
Home went hungry Mrs. Puss
And her kittens four;
Found their dinner on a plate
By the kitchen door.
As they gathered round the plate,
They agreed ’twas nice
That it could not run away
Like the birds and mice!
MRS. PUSSY’S DINNER.
Emilie Poulsson. C.C. Roeske.
|
1. Mrs. Pussy, sleek and fat, With her kittens four, Went to sleep upon the mat By the kitchen door. |
|
2. Mrs. Pussy heard a noise— Up she jumped in glee: “Kittens, maybe that’s a mouse! Let us go and see!” |
3. Creeping, creeping, creeping on, Silently they stole; But the little mouse had gone Back within its hole. |
| 4. “Well,” said Mrs. Pussy then, “To the barn we’ll go; We shall find the swallows there Flying to and fro.” |
5. So the cat and kittens four Tried their very best; But the swallows flying fast Safely reached the nest! |
| 6. Home went hungry Mrs. Puss And her kittens four; Found their dinner on a plate By the kitchen door. |
7. As they gathered round the plate, They agreed ’twas nice That it could not run away Like the birds and mice! |
XIV.—HOW THE CORN GREW.
There was a field that waiting lay,
All hard and brown and bare;
There was a thrifty farmer came
And fenced it in with care.
Then came a plowman with his plow;
From early until late,
Across the field and back again,
He plowed the furrows straight.
The harrow then was brought to make
The ground more soft and loose;
And soon the farmer said with joy,
“My field is fit for use.”
For many days the farmer then
Was working with his hoe;
And little Johnny brought the corn
And dropped the kernels—so!
And there they lay, until awaked
By tapping rains that fell,
Then pushed their green plumes up to greet
The sun they loved so well.
Then flocks and flocks of hungry crows
Came down the corn to taste;
But ba-ang!—went the farmer’s gun
And off they flew in haste.
Then grew and grew the corn, until,
When autumn days had come,
With sickles keen they cut it down,
And sang the “Harvest Home.”
HOW THE CORN GREW.
Emilie Poulsson. Cornelia C. Roeske.
|
1. There was a field that waiting lay, All hard and brown and bare; There was a thrifty farmer came And fenced it in with care, There was a thrifty farmer came And fenced it in with care. |
|
2. Then came a ploughman with his plough; From early until late, Across the field and back again, He ploughed the furrows straight. |
3. The harrow then was brought to make The ground more soft and loose; And soon the farmer said with joy, “My field is fit for use.” |
| 4. For many days the farmer then Was working with his hoe; And little Johnny brought the corn And dropped the kernels—so! |
5. And there they lay, until awaked By tapping rains that fell, Then pushed their green plumes up to greet The sun they loved so well. |
| 6. Then flocks and flocks of hungry crows Came down the corn to taste; But ba-ang! went the farmer’s gun, And off they flew in haste. |
7. Then grew and grew the corn, until, When autumn days had come, With sickles keen they cut it down, And sang the “Harvest Home.” |
XV.—THE MILL.
A merry little river
Went singing day by day,
Until it reached a mill-dam
That stretched across its way.
And there it spread its waters,
A quiet pond, to wait
Until the busy miller
Should lift the water-gate.
Then, hurrying through the gateway,
The dashing waters found
A mighty millwheel waiting,
And turned it swiftly round.
But faster turned the millstones
Up in the dusty mill,
And quickly did the miller
With corn the hopper fill.
And faster yet and faster
The heavy stones went round,
Until the golden kernels
To golden meal were ground.
“Now fill the empty hopper
With wheat,” the miller said;
“We’ll grind this into flour
To make the children’s bread.”
And still, as flowed the water,
The mighty wheel went round;
And still, as turned the millstones,
The corn and grain were ground.
And busy was the miller
The livelong day, until
The water-gate he fastened,
And silent grew the mill.
THE MILL.
Emilie Poulsson. Cornelia C. Roeske.
|
1. A merry little river Went singing day by day, Until it reached a mill-dam That stretched across its way. And there it spread its waters, A quiet pond, to wait Until the busy miller Should lift the water gate. |
2. Then, hurrying through the gateway, The dashing waters found A mighty millwheel waiting— And turned it swiftly round. But faster turned the millstone Up in the dusty mill, And quickly did the miller With corn the hopper fill. |
| 3. And faster yet and faster The heavy stones went round, Until the golden kernels To golden meal were ground. “Now, fill the empty hopper With wheat,” the miller said; “We’ll grind this into flour To make the children’s bread.” |
4. And still, as flowed the water, The mighty wheel went round; And still, as turned the millstones, The corn and grain were ground. And busy was the miller The livelong day, until The water gate he fastened, And silent grew the mill. |
XVI.—MAKING BREAD.
“The farmer and the miller
Have worked,” the mother said,
“And got the flour ready,
So I will make the bread.”
She scooped from out the barrel
The flour white as snow,
And in her sieve she put it
And shook it to and fro.
Then in the pan of flour
A little salt she threw;
A cup of yeast she added,
And poured in water, too.
To mix them all together
She stirred with busy might,
Then covered it and left it
Until the bread was light.
More flour then she sifted
And kneaded well the dough,
And in the waiting oven
The loaves of bread did go.
The mother watched the baking,
And turned the loaves, each one,
Until at last, rejoicing,
She said, “My bread is done!”
MAKING BREAD.
Emilie Poulsson. C.C. Roeske.
|
1. “The farmer and the miller Have work’d,” the mother said, “And got the flour ready, So I will make the bread.” She scooped from out the barrel The flour white as snow, And in her sieve she put it And shook it to and fro. |
| 2. Then in the pan of flour A little salt she threw; A cup of yeast she added, And poured in water, too. To mix them all together She stirred with busy might, Then covered it and left it Until the bread was light. |
3. More flour then she sifted And kneaded well the dough, And in the waiting oven The loaves of bread did go. The mother watched the baking, And turned the loaves, each one, Until at last, rejoicing, She said, “My bread is done!” |
XVII.—MAKING BUTTER.
Skim, skim, skim,
With the skimmer bright;
Take the rich and yellow cream,
Leave the milk so white.
Churn, churn, churn,
Now ’tis churning day;
Till the cream to butter turn
Dasher must not stay.
Press, press, press;
All the milk must be
From the golden butter now
Pressed out carefully.
Pat, pat, pat;
Make it smooth and round.
See! the roll of butter’s done—
Won’t you buy a pound?
Taste, oh! taste,
This is very nice;
Spread it on the children’s bread,
Give them each a slice.
MAKING BUTTER.
Emilie Poulsson. C.C. Roeske.
|
1. Skim, skim, skim, With the skimmer bright; Take the rich and yellow cream, Leave the milk so white. |
|
| 2. Churn, churn, churn, Now ’tis churning day; Till the cream to butter turn Dasher must not stay. |
|
| 3. Press, press, press; All the milk must be From the golden butter now Pressed out carefully. |
|
| 4. Pat, pat, pat, Make it smooth and round. See! the roll of butter’s done— Won’t you buy a pound? |
|
| 5. Taste, oh! taste, This is very nice. Spread it on the children’s bread, Give them each a slice. |
XVIII.—SANTA CLAUS.
O, clap, clap the hands,
And sing out with glee
For Christmas is coming
And merry are we!
Now swift o’er the snow
The tiny reindeer
Are trotting and bringing
Good Santa Claus near.
Our stockings we’ll hang,
And while we’re asleep
Then down through the chimney
Will Santa Claus creep.
He’ll empty his pack,
Then up he will come
And, calling his reindeer,
Will haste away home.
Then clap, clap the hands!
And sing out with glee,
For Christmas is coming
And merry are we!
SANTA CLAUS.
Emilie Poulsson. Cornelia C. Roeske.
|
1. O, clap, clap the hands, And sing out with glee! For Christmas is coming and merry are we! Now swift o’er the snow The tiny reindeer Are trotting and bringing Good Santa Claus near. 2. O, clap, clap the hands, And sing out with glee! For Christmas is coming and merry are we! Our stockings we’ll hang, And while we’re asleep Then down thro’ the chimney Will Santa Claus creep. 3. O, clap, clap the hands, And sing out with glee! For Christmas is coming and merry are we! He’ll empty his pack, Then up he will come And calling the reindeer, Will haste away home. |