You little girl,

You little boy,

With wondering eyes,

That kindly look,

In honour of

Two noble names

I send the offering

Of this book.

Oh, Susan Blue,

How do you do?

Please may I go for a walk with you?

Where shall we go?

Oh, I know—

Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow!

Little Blue Shoes

Mustn't go

Very far alone, you know

Else she'll fall down,

Or, lose her way;

Fancy—what

Would mamma say?

Better put her little hand

Under sister's wise command.

When she's a little older grown

Blue Shoes may go quite alone.

Puff, puff, puff. How the trumpets blow

All you little boys and girls come and see the show.

One—two—three, the Cat runs up the tree;

But the little Bird he flies away—

"She hasn't got me!"

They saw it rise in the morning,

They saw it set at night,

And they longed to go and see it,

Ah! if they only might.

The little soft white clouds heard them,

And stepped from out of the blue;

And each laid a little child softly

Upon its bosom of dew.

And they carried them higher and higher,

And they nothing knew any more

Until they were standing waiting

In front of the round gold door.

And they knocked, and called, and entreated,

Whoever should be within;

But all to no purpose, for no one

Would hearken to let them in.

You very fine Miss Molly,

What will the daisies say,

If you carry home so many

Of their little friends to-day?

Perhaps you take a sister,

Perhaps you take a brother,

Or two little daisies who

Were fond of one another.

And every sort of dance they knew,

From every country far away;

And so it was no wonder that

They should keep dancing all the day.

So dancing—dancing—dancing,

In sunshine or in rain;

And when they all left off,

Why then—they all began again.

Little Molly and Damon

Are walking so far,

For they're going to see

Their kind Grandmamma.

And they very well know,

When they get there she'll take

From out of her cupboard

Some very nice cake.

And into her garden

They know they may run,

And pick some red currants,

And have lots of fun.

So Damon to doggie

Says, "How do you do?"

And asks his mamma

If he may not go too.

Oh, if you were a little boy,

And I was a little girl—

Why you would have some whiskers grow

And then my hair would curl.

Ah! if I could have whiskers grow,

I'd let you have my curls;

But what's the use of wishing it—

Boys never can be girls.

It is a Party, do you know,

And there they sit, all in a row,

Waiting till the others come,

To begin to have some fun.

Hark! the bell rings sharp and clear,

Other little friends appear;

And no longer all alone

They begin to feel at home.

To them a little hard is Fate,

Yet better early than too late;

Fancy getting there forlorn,

With the tea and cake all gone.

Wonder what they'll have for tea;

Hope the jam is strawberry.

Wonder what the dance and game;

Feel so very glad they came.

Very Happy may you be,

May you much enjoy your tea.

One on each side we had to go,

And never laugh or loll;

I carried Prim, her Spaniard dog,

And Tom—her parasol.

If I looked right—if Tom looked left—

"Tom—Susan—I'm ashamed;

And little Prim, I'm sure, is shocked,

To hear such naughties named."

She said we had no manners,

If we ever talked or sung;

"You should have seen," said Grandmamma,

"Me walk, when I was young."

She told us—oh, so often—

How little girls and boys,

In the good days when she was young,

Never made any noise.

She said they never wished then

To play—oh, indeed!

They learnt to sew and needlework,

Or else to write and read.

She said her mother never let

Her speak a word at meals;

"But now," said Grandmamma, "you'd think

That children's tongues had wheels

"So fast they go—clack, clack, clack, clack;

Now listen well, I pray,

And let me see you both improve

From what I've said to-day."

Oh who'll give us Posies,

And Garlands of Roses,

To twine round our heads so gay?

For here we come bringing

You many good wishes to-day.

From market—from market—from market—

We all come up from market.

I am a very little girl,

I think that I've turned two;

And if you'd like to know my name

I'd like to tell it you.

They always call me Baby,

But Phillis is my name.

No—no one ever gave it me,

I think it only came.

I've got a pretty tulip

In my little flower-bed;

If you would like I'll give it you—

It's yellow, striped with red.

I've got a little kitten, but

I can't give that away,

She likes to play with me so much;

She's gone to sleep to-day.

And I've got a nice new dolly,

Shall I fetch her out to you?

She's got such pretty shoes on,

And her bonnet's trimmed with blue.

You'd like to take her home with you?

Oh, no, she mustn't go;

Good-bye—I want to run now,

You walk along so slow.

Their curls were golden—their eyes were blue,

And their voices were sweet as a silvery bell;

And four white birds around them flew,

But where they came from—who could tell?

Oh, who could tell? for no one knew,

And not a word could you hear them say.

But the sound of their singing, like church bells ringing,

Would sweetly float as they passed away.

For under the sun, and under the stars,

They often sailed on the distant sea;

Then in their Green Tower and Roses bower

They lived again—a mystery.

In my little Green House, quite content am I,

When the hot sun pours down from the sky;

For oh, I love the country—the beautiful country.

Who'd live in a London street when there's the country?

I live in a London street, then I long and long

To be the whole day the sweet Flowers among

Instead of tall chimney-pots up in the sky,

The joy of seeing Birds and Dragon Flies go by.

At home I lie in bed, and cannot go to sleep,

For the sound of cart-wheels upon the hard street.

But here my eyes close up to no sound of anything

Except it is to hear the nightingales sing.

And then I see the Chickens and the Geese go walking,

I hear the Pigs and the Ducks all talking.

And the Red and the Spotted Cows they stare at me,

As if they wondered whoever I could be.

I see the little Lambs out with their mothers—

Such pretty little white young sisters and brothers.

Oh, I'll stay in the country, and make a daisy chain,

And never go back to London again.