And so, next time they throw him in,
Instead of swimming round
He hides himself among the reeds,
And hopes he won’t be found.
He hears old Daddy calling,
“Hi there! You frog, come out!
You needn’t try to hide from me.
I know what you’re about.”
He hears the young ones rustle round,
They bitterly complain,
“Oh Daddy, find our frog for us.
We want him back again.”
But quick Ned gathers lily leaves,
All broad and green and flat,
And fixes them to hide his head
As though they were a hat.
Then out beyond the reeds he floats;
The green leaves hide him still
As down the stream he swims away
Past meadow, wood and hill.
In vain old Daddy hunts about,
And little does he dream
That Ned was underneath the leaves
That floated down the stream.
Now Edward’s reached his home again.
He runs in through the door,
Leaving a trail of water
Across the kitchen floor.
“You need not scold me mother,”
With chattering teeth he says.
“I’ve had enough of swimming now
To last me all my days.”
ENVIOUS ELIZA
Eliza never was content.
Indeed ’twas very sad
That any child could envy so
The things that others had.
ENVIOUS ELIZA
ELIZA was an envious child,
Indeed ’twas very sad
To see the way she wished for things
That other children had.
Instead of playing like the rest,
She’d stand about and whine,
“I do not see why every one
Has better things than mine.
“Jane’s doll is prettier than mine.
John has a better ball.
The one Aunt Sarah gave to me
Will hardly bounce at all.
“My picture book is old and torn
And Mary’s looks quite new.
And Tom has all the building blocks.
I wish I had some, too.”
’Twas thus the envious little girl
Complained day after day.
She made herself unhappy,
And spoiled the fun and play.
At last one day when she began
With her complaints once more,
John quickly gathered up his toys
And games from off the floor.
“Here, you may have my things,” he said,
“I’ll give them all to you.”
“And you may have my doll,” said Jane,
“And all her dresses, too.”
“Yes,” Mary cried, “and take my books,
”My grace-hoop, sticks and all,
And Noah’s Ark.“ ”And here!“ said Tom,
”Here are my blocks and ball.“
Eliza scarce believed her ears,
“You’ll give them all to me,—
The books and games and toys? Oh dear!
How happy I shall be.”
The other children ran away,
And left her standing there,
But since they’d also left their things
But little did she care.
Quite happily, all by herself,
She played that afternoon,
It seemed to her that supper time
Had never come so soon.
Next day, all by herself again;
She settled down to play,
But oh! the room seemed strangely still
With all the rest away.
“I wonder what they’re all about,
And where they are,” thought she;
And then she called them, “Come in here
And play awhile with me.”
“We can’t,” she heard them answer back,
“There’s nothing we can do
Now we have given all our toys
And games and books to you!”
“But oh! I cannot always play
All by myself,” cried she,
“Come here, and you shall have again
The things you gave to me.
“The toys and books and dolls and games—
Each one shall take his own,
I’d rather never have a thing
Than always play alone.”
The children now have taken back
The toys they gave to her,
The nursery’s full of merriment
And fun and cheerful stir.
Eliza now is quite content
To play like all the rest,
And never gives a single thought
To which one has the best.
THE NIXIE
Up through the water see her rise,
The nixie with her sea-green eyes.
ONCE John and Jane were playing
Beside a shining lake
When suddenly the waters
Began to stir and shake.
And up there rose a nixie
From out the waters green.
She was the strangest looking thing
That they had ever seen.She called the children gently.
She coaxed them, “Come with me,
And I will show you castles,
And gardens fair to see.”
“Our mother’s often told us,”
The children both replied,
“We must not go with strangers,
Or evil may betide.”
But still the nixie coaxed them.
“Come see my lovely things.
I’ll show you strings of shining shells,
And fishes that have wings.”
She took them by their shoulders,
She took them by the hands,
She drew them down beneath the lake
To where her castle stands.
But now the nixie had them
She lost her pleasant smile.
She set the children both to work
And scolded all the while.
“Now scrub about, and sweep about,
And fill the iron pot,
And hang it up above the fire
To make the water hot.
“No idling now, you lazy ones;
Be quick and stir your feet,
The while I go outside a bit
And catch some fish to eat.”
Soon as the nixie leaves them
The children set to work.
Indeed they’re both so frightened
They do not dare to shirk.
Just as the work is finished
The nixie comes once more,
And leaves a trail of water
Across the kitchen floor.
Her net is full of fishes.
“Here, child! be quick,” cries she,
“Now clean these fish and cook them,
And serve them up to me.”
Quick little Janie sets to work,
She cooks the fish in haste,
The greedy nixie eats them all;
She does not leave a taste.
Then after she has finished
She lies down on the bed,
And snores so loud the rafters
Are shaken overhead.
Then Janie beckons Johnnie,
And whispers in his ear,
“Now, John, I’m going to run away.
I will not stay down here.”
But little John is frightened.
“Oh dear! I’d be afraid.
I know she’d come and catch us,
This cruel water-maid.”
“But I’ve a plan,” says Janie,
“It just came in my head.
We’ll take the nixie’s fishing-net
And tie her down in bed.
“Be quick or she may waken,
We have no time to waste.”
So now the little children
Have set to work in haste.
They wrap her net about her,
They tie her tight in bed.
Now, even if she wakened
She scarce could lift her head!
“So there! that job is finished,”
Cries little Jane with glee.
“Unless someone unties her
She never can get free.”
Now quick the little children
Run tip-toe out the door,
And never stop nor turn about
Till they are home once more.
But for the cruel nixie,
Whether she’s still in bed,
Or whether she has wriggled out
No one has ever said.
STEPHEN’S LESSON
Poor Stephen is in such disgrace
He is ashamed to show his face.
’TIS very very sad indeed
When little children choose
To say the naughty, ugly words
That no one ought to use.
That was the way with Stephen,
Such naughty words he said
That grandmamma looked shocked and grieved,
And auntie shook her head.
Mamma said, “Son, I’ve told you
Such words you must not say,
And yet, in spite of warnings,
I hear them every day.
“So now, my child, I’m taking
These sticking plaster strips.
I’m going to put them on your mouth
And seal those naughty lips.”
“But mother, how then shall I eat?”
Cries Stephen anxiously.
“Oh, I will take them off for meals.
’Twill not be hard,” says she.
In vain poor Stephen pleads with her;
In vain he sobs and cries.
She lays the strips across his lips
In straight and criss-cross wise.
Now only sounds like “Um! Um-hum!”
From Stephen’s lips are heard,
Because, with all those plasters on
He cannot speak a word.
Now Stephen cannot go to school,
He sits at home all day.
He feels ashamed to go outside,
Or join the boys at play.
And if he’s at the window,
And some one passes by,
He quickly turns aside his head,
Lest they the plasters spy.
One day, when mother changed the strips
In haste poor Stephen cried,
“I do not think my lips could say
Those words now if I tried.”
“If that’s the case,” cried mother,
“No need to use these slips,”
And with a smile of joy she kissed
The one-time naughty lips.
Indeed the lesson had been learned,
For Stephen nevermore
Was heard to say those naughty words
That he had used before.
THE CATERPILLAR
The Caterpillar has to crawl.
He cannot run or jump at all.
ANNE was a lively child at play,
And quick as she could be,
But when an errand must be run
Ah, slow of foot was she.
“My child,” said grandmamma one day,
“Run to my room and look,
And bring me, from my bureau there,
My spectacles and book.”
“Oh, grandmamma, I’m reading now,”
The lazy Annie said,
“I do not want to leave my book,
Mayn’t Mary go instead?”
No wonder grandmamma looked pained
When Annie answered so,
But little Mary cried, “Why, yes!
Of course I’d love to go.”
“Come little Anne,” her mother called,
“Run down the street for me,
And get some thread to sew your frock.
Let’s see how quick you’ll be.”
“Oh dear! I’m tired,” Anne replied,
“Why cannot Mary go?
Or nurse? She’s not been out all day,
Indeed she told me so.”
“My child, my child!” her mother said,
“Whatever shall I do?
You’re such a lazy, useless girl
I feel ashamed of you.
“Your little feet run fast enough
For pleasure or for fun,
But you can hardly crawl about
When errands must be run.”
But listen now! One day Anne woke
And felt quite strange and queer.
“Whatever’s happened to me now,”
She cried; “Oh dear, oh dear!
“Oh mother! nurse! Come in here quick
And tell me what is wrong.
I seem to have so many feet—
My body feels so long.”
Mamma and nurse came hurrying in,
Ah what a sight to see!
Poor Anne! A caterpillar’s legs
And stubby feet had she.
She scarce knew how to turn herself
Nor how to climb from bed.
“However shall I run or play!”
The poor child sadly said.
Mamma and nurse were shocked and grieved,
And so was grandma, too,
While little Mary sobbed, “Oh dear!
Whatever will she do!”
But like a caterpillar soon
She learned to crawl around,
Although her legs were now so short
She almost touched the ground.
’Twas sad indeed to be so slow
When she had been so fleet.
No longer could she play about
Nor run out in the street.
Her greatest pleasure was to find
Some errand she could go,
And up and down the stairs she’d trudge
With patient steps and slow.
She waited on her grandmamma,
And on her mother, too.
No one could ask her anything
She was not glad to do.
One day her watchful mother said,
“It really seems to me
Anne’s legs are growing long and slim,
More like they used to be.
“She does not have so many now.
Her body’s shorter, too.
I saw her standing up to-day
Quite as she used to do.”
“I’ve noticed that,” her grandma said,
“Indeed I hope some day
To see our Anne herself again,
And fit for work and play.”
And so it was. For one day Anne
Awoke to find once more
She was the selfsame nimble child
That she had been before.
Then what rejoicings filled the house,
All gathered round to see;
And as for Anne, as you may guess,
A thankful child was she.
And never since has Annie lost
Her willing, useful ways,
And her mamma and every one
All speak of her with praise.
MISCHIEVOUS JANE
Only see how this naughty Jane
Is frightening her nurse again.