FEED THE BIRDIES.
Feed the birdies, darling,
When the snow is here,
When there are no berries
On the bushes, dear;--
Scatter food out for them,
And they'll quickly come,
Hopping, singing, chirping
"Thank you for the crumb."
ROCK-A-BYE.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Don't tremble with fear,
For that tends to make
His slight illness severe.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby.
Don't coax him to nurse,
For urging to eat
Only makes matters worse.
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
No company 'round,
Not even the dear ones,
To make a loud sound.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Don't rattle the papers
Nor whisper around,
Little nerves cut such capers.
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Whatever is wrong,
Attend to his bowels,
Neglected too long,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
If he is too hot,
Undress him and bathe him;
But, ah! he is not.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
There is cough with unrest,
So we'll wring out hot flannels,
And cover his chest,
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
He's perspiring, to pour!
We will keep up this treatment
A full hour more.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Now dry him off neat,
And wrap him up warm,
And to-morrow, repeat.
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
'Tis not in his chest?
Then place the hot flannels
Where he feels the unrest.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill,
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
He is moaning with pain,
And rolling his head,
And we pet him in vain.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We will wring out from ice,
Linen cloths for his head,
All so cooling and nice.
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
If cold don't relieve,
Use hot and then cold,
And then hot, you perceive.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling is ill;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll soon have him well;--
Rock-a-bye, baby,
We'll see that his feet
Are kept warm all the time,
And his clothes dry and neat.
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Rock-a-bye, baby,
Our darling was ill
Rock-a-bye, baby,
But now he is well;
Rock-a-bye, baby,
No drugs, not a dose!
Yet he's over it finely,
Just hear how he crows
THE SNOWBALL.
Have ever you seen how a wee bit of snow,
To a big bouncing ball, just by rolling, will grow?
'Tis thus our wee sins, children, let to roll on,
Will grow big, bigger, biggest, till Satan has won.
LITTLE BO-PEEP.
Co' Nan, co' Nan, says little Bo-peep,
Co' Nan, co' Nan, up come the sheep;
They jump the ditch and scale the wall,
Where one sheep goes, they follow, all.
Co' dea', co' dea', says little Bo-peep,
Co' dea', co' dea', I'll shear my sheep;
Their wool so fine will make my coat,
My blankets and my hose to boot.
THE TEA-PARTY.
Ah! little ones, I'm sure there's not
A drop of tea in your weeny pot.
For water bright and milk so pure,
Alone will bring you health, be sure;
And health is beauty, health is cheer,
Health is happiness so dear.
TELL IT AGAIN, MOTHER.
"Tell it again, Mother,
Tell it again,"--
No matter what story she told
We children, would cry,
In the days gone by.
Before our years were old.
"Tell it again, Mother,
Tell it again,"--
No matter how weary and worn.
For we children knew naught
Of the care we brought,
Before our sense was born.
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"Tell it again, Mother,
Tell it again,"--
And she, patient, and kind, and wise,
The tale would repeat,
Or the song so sweet,
And 'twas ever a glad surprise.
"Tell it again, Mother,
Tell it again,"--
Ah! you children, when children no more,
Will go back to the days
Of sweet babyhood lays,
And Mother's sage sayings con o'er.
LITTLE JACK HORNER.
LITTLE JACK HORNER
Sat in the corner,
Eating a morsel of nice brown bread;
"Have some pie, or some cake?"
"Nay, not I," with a shake
And a toss of his wise little head.
"For this bread will make bone,
And white teeth like a stone,
That will neither grow soft nor decay;
But rich cake and rich pie
Sure will break, bye and bye,
My good health, and that never will pay."
LITTLE BOY BLUE.
"Little Boy Blue, may I go with you now?"
"Yes, down to the pasture to drive up the cow."
"Little boy blue, what then may I have?"
A nice cup of milk as ever cow gave.
"Little boy blue, the milk must be set;"
"Yes, for 'tis thus the nice cream we shall get."
"Little boy blue, what will we do then?"
"We'll skim it and dash it, with 'churn, butter, churn.'"
"Little boy blue, what else can we make?"
"O, cheese, tempting cheese, and the dainty cheese cake."
"Little boy blue, is there anything more?"
"O, yes, puddings, custards and dainties, a store."
"Little boy blue, shall we eat of all these?"
"Simple food is far better for us, if you please."
MISS VELVET-PAWS.
Little Miss Velvet-paws,
Raveling out her yarn,
Catches mice, in a trice,
In everybody's barn.
Look out for velvet paws,
Do not trust them far,
For velvet paws cover claws
That will leave a scar.
POLLY HOPKINS.
Now little Polly Hopkins
Must surely know great A,
And B, and C, and D, and E,
F, G, H, I, J, K;
And L, and M, and N, and O,
And P, and Q, R, S,
And T, U, V, and W, X,
And Y, & Z, I guess.
A, B, C.
A Stands for Alligator,
B Stands for Ball,
C Stands for Cat in a cream-pot,
D Stands for Doll.
E Stands for East, or Ellen.
F Stands for Fay,
G Stands for Goat, a
Pen in,
H Stands for Hay,
I Stands for Indigestion,
J Stands for Jar,
K Stands for King, or Keepsake,
L Stands for La,
M Stands for Man, or Thousand,
N Stands for Nail,
O Stands for Oaken bucket,
P Stands for Pail,
Q Stands for Queen, or Question.
R Stands for Rose,
S Stands for Christmas Stocking,
T Stands for Toes,
U Stands for Urn, or Ulster,
V Stands for Vane,
W Stands for West, or Winter.
X Stands for Ten.
Y Stands for Yoke,
(with Oxen).
Z Stands for Zero.
& when you've learned your LETTERS,
You'll be a Hero.
C-A-T spells CAT,
That brought the kittens here;
D-O-G spells DOG,
That does, the puppies, rear.
C-O-W, Cow,
The mother of the calf;
O-X spells the Ox,
That's bigger, yes, by half.
B-O-Y spells BOY,
That's little brother Lou;
G-I-R-L, GIRL,
And that is sister Sue.
B-I-R-D, BIRD,
Just hear canary sing;
G-O-L-D, GOLD,
That makes a handsome ring
B-O-O-K, BOOK,
In which we learn to read;
C-O-O-K, COOK,
Supplies the food we need.
S-E-E-D, SEED,
From which we raise the plant;
S-I-N-G, SING,
Just hear the children chant.
B-A, BA, B-Y, BY,
And that spells BABY, love;
L-A, LA, D-Y, DY,
And that spells LADY, dove.
M-A, MA, R-Y, RY,
And that spells MARY, child,
E-D, ED, D-Y, DY,
That's EDDY, sweet and mild.
THE KITTEN.
ONE, two, (1, 2,)
Here's a kitten for you;
THREE, four, (3, 4,)
She will open the door,
FIVE, six, (5, 6,)
And your cream she will mix,--
SEVEN, eight, (7, 8,)
If you are too late,
NINE, ten, (9, 10,)
To cover the pan;
ELEVEN, twelve, (11, 12,)
And then you must delve,--
THIRTEEN, fourteen, (13, 14,)
To cover her sporting;
FIFTEEN, Sixteen, (15, 16,)
But while you are fixing,---
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SEVENTEEN, eighteen, (17, 18,)
Remember I'm waiting,
NINETEEN, twenty, (19, 20,)
For butter a plenty.
* * * * *
To those who serve you, children, all,
Be gentle and polite,--
For thus are gentle-women known,
Or gentle-men, at sight.
DOLLY DIMPLE.
DOLLY DIMPLE, just for fun,
Stands to show us she is ONE.
Dolly and her sister Sue
Show that ONE and ONE make Two.
Dolly, Sue, and Nanny Lee,
Show that ONE with TWO make THREE.
Doll, Sue, Nan, and little Noah,
Show that ONE with THREE make FOUR.
Doll, Sue, Nan, Noah, and Ben Brive
Show that ONE with FOUR make FIVE.
Now all these with Jenny Hicks
Show that ONE with FIVE make SIX.
One more, Ned, a baby, even,
Shows that ONE with SIX make SEVEN.
With these girls and boys, put Kate,
And the ONE with SEVEN make EIGHT.
All these eight, with Adaline
Show that ONE with EIGHT make NINE.
Now with these put Dick, and then
You'll see that ONE with NINE make TEN.
IF YOU PLEASE.
I hope my children never will
Say, "Give me" this or that,--
But, "If you please," I'd like a bun,
Or, "Thank you" for a pat.
THE POOR LITTLE CHICK-A-DEES.
TEN little chick-a-dees clinging to a vine,--
A speckled snake charmed one, then there were but NINE.
NINE little chick-a-dees,--one without a mate,--
A Sparrow-hawk caught one,then there were but EIGHT.
EIGHT little chick-a dees, by a 'possum driven,--
He caught one and slaughtered it, then there were but SEVEN.
SEVEN little chick-a-dees hopping round the ricks,--
A Weasel came and captured one, then there were but six.
SIX little chick-a-dees watching Rover dive,--
He sprang ashore and seized one, then there were but FIVE.
FIVE little chick-a-dees pecking at the door,
Kitty-cat caught one, then there were but FOUR.
FOUR little chick-a-dees full of birdy glee,
One was tangled in a net, then there were but THREE.
THREE little chick-a-dees dabbling in the dew,
A stone fell and crushed one, then there were but TWO.
TWO little chick-a-dees peeping just for fun,
A hungry Kite caught one, then there was but ONE.
ONE little chick-a-dee, mourning all alone,
Flew away to find a mate, and then there was NONE,
HEIGH-HO, DAISIES AND BUTTER-CUPS.
HEIGH-HO, daisies and butter-cups
Grow in the meadows for children to gather;
But cattle will shun them,
And farmers will burn them,
Because in their fields they are only a bother.
Heigh-ho, red-top and clover-bloom,
Filling the air with their sweetness and beauty,
Will yield without measure,
Their wealth of rich treasure,
Rewarding the farmer for doing his duty.
THE PONY.
Once 2 is 2,
Here's a pony for you;
Two 2s are 4,
But be careful the more,--
THREE 2s are 6,
For perhaps pony kicks;
FOUR 2s are 8,
And if so we must wait,
FIVE 2s are 10,
Till he's trained by the men;--
Six 2s are 12,
Before trusting ourselves,
SEVEN 2s are 14,
To ride him out sporting;
EIGHT 2s are 16,
But we can be fixing
NINE 2s are 18,
His food while we're waiting;
TEN 2s are 20,
Oh, yes, give him plenty,--
ELEVEN 2s are 22,
For then he will be gentle to--
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TWELVE 2s are 24,
Us who feed and pet him more.
BABY'S RECKONING.
One little head, Ah! but what does it hold?
No matter,--it's worth its whole weight in pure gold.
Two big brown eyes, soft with Heaven's own dew;
No diamonds so precious, so sparkling, so true.
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Three cunning dimples, one deep in her chin,
And one in each cheek--Ah! they're just twin and twin.
Four little fingers to clutch mamma's hair,
But sweeter than honeycomb, even when there.
Five, we may call it, with little Tom Thumb,
And that fist in her mouth is as sweet as a plum.
Six wonderful pearls her bright coral lips hide,
And the Kohinoor's nothing these pure pearls beside.
Seven brown wavelets are ever in motion,
And silken floss to them is naught, to our notion.
Eight little giggles run over with glee--
And more if you call them, so merry is she.
Nine songs, (they're Greek tho' to all but mamma),
Make us think she is destined, an Opera Star.
Ten toddling steps, but to us full of grace,
For our babe in our hearts ever holds the first place.
TWO LITTLE PINK SHOES.
Two little pink shoes standing by the head
Of our Nanny sleeping in the trundle-bed;
On the little table, waiting for the morn,
Two little pink shoes, our Nanny to adorn.
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Two little bright eyes, peeping open wide,
Spied the little table, and the pink shoes spied.
Two little fat hands climbing up to catch;
Two little fat feet following to match.
Two little fat arms hug them to her breast;
Two little fat legs run to show the rest.
Never more a treasure can our Nancy choose,
That will give such pleasure as these two pink shoes.
* * * * *
In your work or your play,
When you read, talk, or write,
Sit always, my child,
With your back to the light,
BABY PEARL.
Now listen while I tell you, child,
That I am quite a grown-up girl,
For I can read, and spell my name,
While you,--why, you're just Baby Pearl.
I help mamma to "house-keep," too,
Although she says I make a whirl!
But I can wipe the forks and spoons,
While you, Ah, you're just Baby Pearl.
And then I dress myself, you see,
And comb my hair when not in curl,
And I can make my dolly's clothes,
While you, you're only Baby Pearl.
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Tis true, mamma says I must be
"A very pattern little girl,"
Just all for you, and I shall try
Because, because, you're Baby Pearl.
* * * * *
MY VALENTINE.
Dearest little lover mine,
Sweetest, pertest valentine;
"Desht I'm two years old," he says,--
Blessings on his pretty ways,--
"'Tan't I be your valentine?"
Yes forever, lover mine,
Shalt thou be my valentine.
FEE-FI-FO-FUM.
FEE-FI-FO-FUM,
From the Spruce-tree comes the gum;
From the Pine the turpentine,
Tar and pitch,
And timber which
Is very choice and fine.
Fee-fi-fo-fum,
How from Spruce-tree comes the gum?
Soft enough;--the sticky stuff,
From seam and cleft,
Both right and left,
Flows out, and hardens, rough.
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Fay-fi-fo-fee,
Nut-galls grow on the Oak-tree;
By tiny worms the nut-gall forms,
Like little ball;
And from Nut-gall
The Gallic Acid comes.
Fee-fi-fo-fade,
From Nut-galls, too, the Tannin's made;
While Acorns grow in group or row;--
And Live-oak long,
Makes ship-knees, strong,
That round the world may go.
Fee-fi-fo-fap,
We tap the Maples, and the sap
We find as sweet as sugar-beet,
Then boiling hard,
Our sure reward,
The maple-sugar treat.
Fay-fi-fo-fee,
See the graceful White-Birch tree,
With bark so light, so tough and tight
That Indians wrought
Canoes we're taught,
And paddled out of sight.
Fee-fi-fo-fap,
Hark and hear the Hemlock snap;--
Little spine so full of wind,
Heated, hops,
And jumping, pops,
And makes the bright eyes shine.
Fee-fi-fo-fur,
See the curious chestnut-burr;
Green and round, then turning brown.
Frost opens wide
Each prickly side,
And out the chestnuts bound.
Fee-fi-fo-fay,
Now the farmer makes his hay;
Grasses grow, which workmen mow,--
Toss every-wise,
Till sunshine dries,
Then into stacks, they stow.
Fay-fee-fi-fo,
See the farmer wield his hoe,
Lettuce, greens, then corn and beans,
With pumpkin-vines
Along the lines,
Where many a weed o'er-leans.
Fee-fi-fo-fog,
See the wriggling pollywog,*--
With funny tail; but without fail
This pollywog
Will grow a frog,
And lose his wiggle-tail.
[Footnote: Pollywog--Common name for poll wig, or tadpole.]
Fee-fi-fo-faint,
Colors, seven, the Rainbow paint;
Violet bright is first in sight--
Then indigo,
Blue, green, yellow,
Orange and Red,--the seven, WHITE.
Fay-fee-fi-fo,
Now you ask, "What makes Rainbow?"
It is the sun, my darling one,
Shines through the rain,
O'er hill and plain,
But see, the beauty's flown.
Fay-fi-fo-fear,
Don't you understand it, dear?
Raindrops fall, Sun shines through all,
Reflects beyond,
This beauteous wand
Which we the Rainbow call.
THE OXEN.
The oxen are such clever beasts,
They'll drag the plough all day;
They're very strong and tug along
Great loads of wood or hay.
They feed on grass, when green or dry;
Their flesh is beef, for food;
Their lungs are "lights," their stomach, "tripe,"
Their skin for leather's good.
Their hair men use in mortar, too,
Lime, water, sand and hair,
They nicely mix and smoothly fix,
For plastering, so fair.
For making soap their bones are used;
Their horns for combs we group;
Their feet are boiled for "neat's-foot-oil,"
Their tails for ox-tail soup.
Their heart-case forms a money-bag;
Their tallow, candles, white;
Their intestine, gold-beater's skin,
With which gold-leaf we smite.
Thus every part is useful made;
The same is true of cows,--
Except their ilk gives luscious milk
Instead of dragging ploughs.
Oxen and cows are "cattle" called;
They go in "herds," when wild;
But when they're tame, by other name,--
A "drove,"
en masse,they're styled.
Their little ones are "calves,"--and cows'
Rich milk produces cream,
Which butter makes, and nice cheese-cakes,
With curd, whey, and caseine.
And now 'tis funny, but 'tis true,
Some children young and mazy,
Have thought their eyes were used some-wise,
To make the ox-eyed daisy!
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This cannot be, yet creatures' bones
Placed round trees, plants and bowers,
Will serve to feed just what they need,
To grow fine fruits and flowers.
THE BROKEN PITCHER.
"Sweet, my love, I'm sorry
That you did not tell,
When you broke the pitcher
Coming from the well."
"Oh, I thought you'd whip me,
Just as Betty did;
Then when she would ask me,
I would tell a fib."
"Sweet, my child, I never
Punish any one
For an accidental
Thing that may be done.
"Tell me always, darling,
Everything you do;
This will help to make you
Thoughtful, brave and true."
THE ELEPHANTS.
THE ivory for our combs,
From elephants' tusks is made;
The handles, too for many a knife,
And for paper-knives the blade.
The elephant knows a friend,--
And well remembers, too,
A kindly act, but ne'er forgets
The teasing of a foe.
THE WIND.
"What is the wind, Mamma?"
"Tis air in motion, child;"
"Why can I never see the wind
That blows so fierce and wild?"
"Because the Gases, dear,
Of which the air is made,
Are quite transparent, that is, we
See through, but see no shade."
"And what are Gases, Ma?"
"Fluids, which, if we squeeze
In space too small, will burst with force;"--
"And what are fluids, please?"
"Fluids are what will flow,
And gases are so light
That when we give them room enough,
They rush with eager flight."
"What gases, dear Mamma,
Make up the air or wind?"
"'Tis Oxygen and Nitrogen
That chiefly there we find;
And when the air is full
Of Oxygen we're gay,
But when there is not quite enough,
We're dull, or faint away."
THE FOG.
"What is the fog, Mamma?"
"Sometimes the air is light
And cannot bear up all the mists,
And then 'tis foggy, quite;
But when air heavier grows,
The fog is borne above,
And floated off, the cloudy stuff,--
Just see it, graceful, move."
THE RAIN.
"What makes the rain, Mamma?"
"The mists and vapors rise
From land and stream and rolling sea,
Up toward the distant skies;
And there they form the clouds,
Which, when they're watery, dear,
Pour all the water down to earth,
And rain afar or near."
THE SNOW.
"What makes the Snow, Mamma?"
"When very cold above,
The mists are frozen high in air,
And fall as snow, my love."
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"And Hail?" "Tis formed the same;
Cold streams of air have come
And frozen all the water-drops,
And thus the hail-stones form.
"Now do not question more,
Dear child, but run and play,
I'll tell you of the Water, Fire,
And Light, another day."
"Oh yes, and dear Mamma,
Of Thunder, Lightning, too,
For I shall want to know it all,
So tell me, Mamma, do."
TRUTH.
Do not let "Mother Truth" find a falsehood all over,--
Amongst all her children, no, never a lie;
Stand for Truth, ye wee babies, for Truth, ye who're older,
For Truth while you live, and for Truth till you die.
All ye myriads of children this little book talks to,
Form now in each household a band for the Truth,
Do not let even a "white lie," and still less a "whopper,"
Find a place in your hearts, nor your heads, nor your mouth.
You know God is Truth;--and as you are His children,
You want to be like Him as near as you can;
Speak the Truth, live the Truth, be the Truth with Him,
And Heaven will have come, as Christ taught in his plan.