MABEL GRAY

Early to her slumber
Went little Mabel Gray;
Rose up in the morning
Just at the peep o' day.

Busy little maiden
Was little Mabel Gray;
Doing all her house work
Before she went to play.

Helping in the kitchen
To keep things shining bright;
Dusting in the parlor,
And setting things to right.

Singing all the daytime,
From morn till dewy night;
Shedding rays of brightness
Like stars of purest light.

Busy little woman,
And with a loving heart,
Never shirked her duty,
But always did her part.

Charming little woman,
And loving little wife,
Ever bright and cheerful,
Lived a long and happy life.

THE NAUGHTY CROW

A blackbird was swinging
On a blackberry bush;
When there came an old crow
And gave him a push.

Then the blackbird fell
From the blackberry bush;
And the old crow crowed
'Cause he gave him that push.

THE BIRDS' GOOD-NIGHT

"Good-night," said the robin,
As he finished his song;
"I am going to sleep
Till the morning doth dawn."

"Good-night," said the bluebird,
As he sought his snug nest;
"Now the evening draws near,
I am going to rest."

"Good-night," said the lark,
As he hushed his lay;
"I am off to my sleep
Till the break of the day."

"Good-night," said the thrush
As he trilled his last note;
"I am off to my roost
In the broad spreading oak."

"Good-night," said a maid
As she nodded her head,
"When you've gone to your rest,
I am going to bed.

"I have finished my work,
And have finished my play;
And am glad for the night
At the close of the day.

"I am sleepy and tired,
And I long for my bed;
For the soft, downy pillow,
Where I lay my wee head.

"And to dream there sweetly
Till the sun shines bright:
Till then, my birdies,
Good-night, good-night."

SANTA'S QUEER JOKE

When Santa came one wintry night,
A pair of stockings hung in sight

Just side by side upon the wall—
But one was large and one was small.

When Santa turned and saw them there,
He said: "Well, that's a queer-matched pair!

"This girl is up to tricks I see,
And thinks she'll play a joke on me;

"But I'll look 'round and soon find out
What this fair miss has been about."

And then he took the stockings down,
And a folded note in one he found.

'Twas written plain, so Santa read
Each line and word the wee note said:

"Dear, dear Santa, I hope you won't mind
Because two stockings you happen to find.

"Don't think I'm greedy, that won't be fair!
For one is grandma's you see hung there.

"You have not filled it since she was young,
So I hung it up to have some fun.

"So please, dear Santa, do not scold,
For grandma now is getting old.

"She wants some specs, so she can see
To knit some winter mitts for me.

"Then 'twould be nice if you've enough
So you could spare a box of snuff.

"Some gum to chew, some nuts to crack—
I'm sure you've got them in your pack.

"She needs a cap with lace and strings,
So, Santa, please give her these things.

"That's all I'll ask; if you'll do this,
I'll pay you some time with a kiss."

"This little girl, with heart of gold,
Must love her grandma now so old.

"And it's all for fun! Yes, yes, I see!"
Then Santa laughed again with glee.

"I'll carry the joke as far as I can,
For I like some fun, if I am an old man."

Then dropping his pack upon the floor,
He looked its contents o'er and o'er,

And found a cap, some specs, and gum,
A whistle, doll, and little drum;

A nice red sled, and doll buggy, too,
Old Santa found as he searched them through.

Into grandma's stocking he stuffed the doll;
Although 'twas large, it wouldn't hold all.

Then tied with a string the sticks and drum,
And said: "Now grandma can have some fun."

Then into the other, the one so small,
He stuffed the cap, specs, snuff, and all.

Then said to himself, the jolly old man,
"I've carried the joke as far as I can.

"I'd better be off ere grandma is waking,
Or maybe I'll get a jolly good shaking."

Then should'ring his pack till his form was bent,
He got into mischief wherever he went.

Then in the morning, when grandma awoke,
She laughed, till she cried, at Santa's queer joke.

LITTLE SUNBEAMS

We're a band of little children,
That is gathered here to-day,
And we're working for our Savior,
In our little childish way.

In the path that lies before us,
In this world of ours below,
We will strive to do our duty,
As we ever onward go.

We are as the light of morning,
That comes peeping through the pane;
We are like the rays of sunshine,
That we welcome after rain.

We are just some little sunbeams
That are scattered here and there;
And without us little sunbeams,
This great world would not be fair.

WHERE DO BABIES GO?

Where has baby gone to?
Asks a mother dear;
Why has darling baby
Left me lonely here?
And my pretty home
Grown so still and drear?

Where are all the playthings
That lay upon the floor?
Where's the little dolly cab
That bumped against the door?
It's stowed now in the attic,
For she'll never want it more.

So she went and left us,
Our little baby May,
And we are so lonely
Since she went away,
That we wish our baby
Would come back and stay.

There's a dreadful longing
In poor mama's breast,
Where her precious baby
Laid her head to rest;
And slept so sweetly,
Like birdies in their nest.

Where has baby gone to?
Says mama with a sigh;
Where has baby gone to?
And a tear is in her eye,
And will my darling baby
Come back by-and-by?

She gazes from the window,
And sees the faces sweet
Of the pretty children,
Coming down the street;
But not a face like baby's
Does she chance to meet.

Soon a winsome lassie
Comes tripping into view,
With head of flaxen curls,
And eyes of deepest blue,
And a loving heart
That always beats so true.

Mama sees the lassie
That took the baby's place,
With the same blue eyes,
But not the baby face;
For the winsome lassie
Has one of older grace.

And that's where baby went to;
But no one ever knows
How the baby disappears,
Or how the baby goes,
Only that a baby
Eats, and laughs, and grows.

WHEN MY KITTY WAS A KITTEN

When my kitty was a kitten,
That was many years ago,
Her was dest the sweetest kitten
Of any kitten that I know.

An' her wore a ribby ribbon
That was striped in stripes of blue;
An' her purred the sweetest pur
When her didn't mew her mew.

Her was dest as good an' gentle
As a kitten ever was;
An' was berry neat an' 'ticular
'Bout her little pawey paws.

Her was full of fun an' frolic,
An' her played wiv paper balls;
An' her sleeped her little sleeps
Wiv my darling dolly dolls.

But my kitty's growed a catty
An' forgot her cunnin' plays;
An' her doesn't like my dollies,
So her spits an' runs aways.

Nor her isn't sweet an' gentle
Like my kitten used to was;
For her scratches little misses
Wiv her naughty scratchy claws.

Oh! I's sorry that her's bigger
Than my kitten used to be;
For a kitten's awful sweeter
Than a catty is to me.

THE BUSY LITTLE HOUSEKEEPER

I's such a busy little housekeeper,
An' dot so much to do,
I has to stop an' think a bit,
If ever I tan git froo.

For there's my dollie's bed to make
An' pretty dess to mend;
An' there's my little baby doll
That I must stop to tend.

Whenever she wakes up at morn,
She's sure to fret or cry,
Unless I rocks her for a while
An' sings a lullaby.

An' there's my little bruver Joe,
He's such a naughty tease,
He always wants my dolly boy,
But never will say "Please."

He makes such lots an' lots of work
For mama an' for me;
I often wish he was a fish
A-swimmin' in the sea.

An' when I has such busy days,
An' dot so much to do,
To care for all my dollies dear,
He never helps me froo.

I musn't stop no longer now
To tell you nuthin' more;
I thinks I hear my dollie scream,
Like she's tumbled on the floor.

I has to go an' git her now,
An' hush her up right quick;
Or maybe she will hold her breff,
An' then git awful sick.

GRANDMA'S POCKET

I have a lovely grandma
Who's very dear to me;
I go to see her oftentimes
And sit upon her knee.

She tells me pretty stories
Just what I like to hear;
She thinks I'm very nice, I guess,
And calls me little dear.

My grandma has a lovely dress
She's worn a long, long while;
She made it all herself, she said,
When pockets were in style.

It's made with pointed, ruffled waist,
That has a surplice twist;
And has the old-time bishop sleeve
That buttons at the wrist.

The skirt does hang so nicely too,
And always looks so well,
It has not any train to it,
Nor was it cut a bell.

It has a lovely pocket though!
That's big, and wide, and deep,
I always find out where it is
And slyly take a peep.

"There is something in my pocket, dear,"
Says grandma every time.
I'm sure to find a penny there,
Or else a silver dime.

"It's yours, my little girlie dear!"
Says grandma, with a kiss,
"So keep them all, my little one,
Until you're grown a miss."

I'm saving up my money now
To buy a golden locket;
And have her picture placed in it
With dimes from out her pocket.

WHAT GOOD IS A BROTHER?

What good is a brother?
I never could see,
But only to tease
A poor sister like me,
And that is as naughty,
As naughty can be.

He's nothing but trouble,
And mama's great care,
And always in mischief
A-doing his share;
And no peace in the house
Whenever he's there.

He hangs up my doll
At the foot of the bed,
With my new skipping-rope
Until she is dead;
Then laughs at the tears
That it makes me shed.

Then he teases my kitty,
Like the bad boys do,
By pulling her tail
Till it's nearly in two;
Then whistles and laughs
When he hears her mew.

If I had my wish,
Do you know what I'd say?
I'd tell my poor mama
To give him away
To grandpa and grandma,
And there make him stay.

But, then, poor grandpa!
He never could nap
Without a bad boy
Crawling up on his lap,
And whipping his knees
To make them get-ap.

And poor, dear grandma,
So patient and kind,
It worries her so
Because he won't mind;
And then her glasses
She never could find.

I suppose I must live,
And try, if I can,
To bear with his capers
Until he's a man;

But I do hope then
My brother will see
What a lot of trouble
He has been to me.

MR. HOP-TOAD

A hop-toad came out
One day in the spring.
He struck up a tune,
And began to sing;

The weather was cold
And made his voice crack,
So poor old hop-toad
Just waddled right back.

MINNIE'S SECRET

I've got a little secret
I'd like to have you know;
So, now, I'm going to tell it:—
My sister has a beau.

She looks so sweet and pretty
When Tommy comes to call;
And talks so nice and witty,
And is so good to all.

I'm afraid he's going to love her,
And marry her some day;
But if he only knew her,
He'd think another way.

She's awful cross to brother,
When Tommy ain't around;
I don't believe a crosser girl
Could anywhere be found.

She says I am a bother
When she has got a beau;
And act so very stupid
By telling all I know.

I only told to Tommy
That she would lie in bed,
And let our tired mama
Do all the work instead.

I told him not to love her
For she was awful cross;
And me and little brother
She always tried to "boss."

I guess he's going to listen
And my advice he'll take.
He said she must do better
Or she would get the shake.

I'm just a-going to tell her
To mind what she's about;
For soon I'll be as big as her
And then I'll cut her out.

NELLIE'S EASTER EGGS

Old Biddy Brown, a nice old hen,
Belonged to little Nell;
She hid her nest from all the rest,
And kept her secret well.

And every morn, just like the sun,
She made her daily trip
Up in the hay her egg to lay,
And gave the rest the slip

But one cold day old Biddy Brown
Concluded it was best,
That in the hay she'd better stay,
And take a little rest.

They missed her from the chicken coop,
And from the barnyard pen;
And none could tell, not even Nell,
Just where to find that hen.

The days went by, the weeks sped on,
And still she hid away;
But little Nell kept hunting well,
And found her in the hay.

Now, Easter time was drawing nigh,
And Nell, in colors bright,
Was going to taint, with brush and paint,
Old Biddy's eggs so white.

She took them from the poor old hen,
Who'd sat so long with care,
And in a tin she brought them in,
Which really was not fair.

She dabbled with those pretty paints,
Till shells were lost to view;
Then with delight she viewed the sight
Of eggs, in red and blue.

She put them by the kitchen stove,
And covered them up tight,
To keep them warm and free from harm,
And out of baby's sight.

The next morn rang the Easter bells,
And Nell rose with a start;
Her playmates, some would surely come
To view her work of art.

So proudly to the kitchen then,
With step so light and free,
With happy look her playmates took,
Those Easter eggs to see.

But what a change came over Nell!
Had some one played her tricks?
To her surprise, before her eyes
Was a pan of downy chicks.

WHEN DOLLY WAS SICK

My doll got sick one summer day,
And then I had to stop my play.

I tucked her in her little bed,
With burning cheeks and throbbing head.

I knew that she was cutting teeth,
And that one thought gave me relief.

But still I wondered as I had,
Why her poor head should ache so bad.

She seemed so ill for one so young,
So I thought I'd have the doctor come.

I sent for him to come—come quick,
For my dear Nell was very sick.

Then when he came he shook his head,
And this is what the doctor said:

"She has the measles or some fever;
But have no fear, I can relieve her.

"I'll give her powders for her head,
But you must keep her close in bed.

"I'll give her quinine made in pills,
And they will cure those dreadful chills.

"But when your neighbors come to call,
Don't let them see your babe at all.

"She must not talk, nor even smile;
So keep her quiet for a while.

"Be careful what you give to eat,
Now don't give salads or cold meat.

"Nor don't give biscuits that are warm,
For they will do your dolly harm.

"But give her nicely buttered toast,
With veal, or lamb, or mutton roast."

I watched beside her suffering bed,
And many were the tears I shed.

But soon a change came o'er my Nell,
I saw that she was getting well.

Oh, what a joy it was to me,
To know from pain my Nell was free!

But she was very pale and thin,
With faded cheeks and pointed chin.

Then came the doctor with his bills—
So much for powders, so much for pills.

I paid them all without a sigh,
And thanked him 'cause she did not die.

AUNTIE'S PARLOR

My auntie has a parlor grand,
That's furnished very fine,
With lots of pretty, fancy things,
That cost her many a dime.

I like to peep into that room
Whenever I go there,
To see those pretty, fancy things,
And find out what they are.

But auntie always watches me,
Just like a cat a mouse,
And says: "You are a mischief, Belle,
When you are in my house."

There's bric-a-brac on the mantel-shelf,
And pictures on the wall,
And pretty, high-back easy-chairs
That spring up like a ball.

There is a grand piano there
That must have cost her much;
But all I ever hear is this:
"Now, Belle, you must not touch."

There is a lovely stand and stool,
And rugs upon the floor,
And vases in the corner too,
But—a lock is on the door.

Now, what's a parlor good for, say?
I'd really like to know!
With doors and windows fastened tight,
And pretty things for show.

I wish I owned that parlor grand,
And all those things so nice,
I'd let my kitty go in there
To watch for naughty mice.

I'd tell the little girls I know
Who hadn't one so fine,
That they were always welcome guests
To come and play in mine.

OFF TO SCHOOL WE GO

In the morning when the sun
Does begin his daily run,
When the stars have gone to sleep,
And no longer brightly peep,
Then we take a morning dine;
And before the clock strikes nine,
Off to school, to school we go,
Some on time and some are slow.

Some look pleasant, some look sour,
Some are whispering every hour;
Some are naughty, some are good,
Some, they study as they should;
Full of fun and full of play,
So they see us every day.
Off to school, to school we go,
Some on time and some are slow.

Soon our lessons are all past,
And the day has gone at last;
Some, they learned them as they should,
Some, they did not get them good;
Some are always staying late
For mistakes upon their slate.
Home from school, from school we go,
Some on time and some are slow.

Soon we girls will older grow,
Then we'll wish so much to know,
So to study we must try,
For our time is flitting by.
Days and weeks are passing fast,
And schooldays will soon be past,
So while off to school we go,
Let's be on time and never slow.

CLARABEL'S VALENTINE

"Now, who shall get my valentine?"
Thought little Clarabel;
"For I must send it to some friend
Who loves me very well."

She thought of cousin Madaline,
A proud and haughty miss,
But changed her mind almost as soon,
For she would scoff at this.

She thought of neighbor Bessie Brown,
But she was rich and fair,
And every year her valentines
Were more than one girl's share.

And next she thought of classmates dear,
Then said their names all o'er;
But every year their valentines
Would number more and more.

So who should get her valentine?
She thought and thought in vain;
At last she said: "I'll keep this one,
And none shall have the gain."

Just then a little voice was heard
To whisper in her ear:
"There's many a girl and many a boy
Who will get none this year.

"So, Clarabel, please think again
Of some poor children's plight,
Who never get a valentine
To make their sad hearts light."

She heard that voice, and then she thought:
"I know what I shall do,
And where to send this valentine
And many others, too."

She took her little money bank,
Where she had kept her dimes,
Then swiftly to the store she ran,
And bought more valentines.

She sent them to the boys and girls
Whose pleasures were but few;
Then told her playmates what she'd done,
And then they tried it, too.

So many were the valentines
That went their happy way,
And many were the girls and boys
That had a happy day.

They thanked the postman o'er and o'er,
Those hapless little elves,
Because he brought them valentines
For their own little selves.

And Clarabel was happy too,
And truly did believe
That giving unto others
Was more than to receive.

THANKSGIVING AT GRANDMA'S

'Twas Thanksgiving on the farm,
And hurry everywhere;
For Grandma Brown got word from town,
The children would be there.
She sent an invitation
A week or two ahead,
To daughter Anna and daughter Hannah,
And this is what it said:

"Now bring the children, every one,
And have a jolly time;
For we've our share, and some to spare,
So bring them all to dine.
And let them bring their relatives,
And each a playmate too,
So bring them all, both large and small,
We'll have enough for you."

So Nell and Dell invited Bell
And little cousin Prue,
Then Bennie Mills asked Jennie Bills,
And also neighbor Sue:
Then neighbor Sue told brother Ralph,
And Ralph told cousin Nan,
Then cousin Nan asked playmate Sam,
And he told neighbor Dan.

Grandma said to grandson Roy:
"Now bring your neighbor Ray."
So neighbor Ray and sister May
Invited cousin Jack;
Then cousin Jack told neighbor Mack,
And asked his playmate Tess;
Then cousin Lottie asked cousin Dottie,
And also sister Bess.

Then sister Bess invited Richard,
And he invited Ned,
Then brother Ned invited Ed,
And also cousin Fred;
Then cousin Fred asked sister Ann,
And she invited Joe,
Then he sent word, so William heard,
To bring his sister Flo.

Then sister Flo and her young beau
Invited playmate Tom;
They said to him: "Bring neighbor Tim
And also cousin Don.
Tell cousin Don to go along
And ask her neighbor Millie;
Then she will make her brother Jake
Invite his sweetheart Tillie."

When grandma's tables were all spread
For little guests from town,
The happy crowd then shouted loud:
"Three cheers for Grandma Brown!"
They listened while dear grandpa then
Gave thanks for daily bread.
Then Will and Tim did both begin
And so did Tom and Ned.

Then Bennie Mills and Jennie Bills
And little Don and Sue,
All waded in with eager vim
And so did Dan and Prue.
Then sister Bess and playmate Tess,
Ate much of poultry meats;
While Ralph and Nell and cousin Bell,
Ate many pickled beets.

Then Roy and Ann and Dick and Joe,
Ate all of grandma's jam,
While Ed and Nan, Dell, Fred, and Sam,
Ate all the eggs and ham.
Then Ray and Millie, and May and Tillie,
And also brother Jake,
And Jack and Lottie, and Mack and Dottie,
Ate all the broiled steak.

When all were through at dinner time,
There naught remained but crumbs;
For pretty Flo and her young beau,
Ate all the sugar plums.
Then grandma smiled when she looked round
And saw the happy set,
For she just knew, as grandmas do,
How hungry children get.

When grandpa hauled the wagons out
To take them back to town,
They scrambled in, with childish din,
And cheered for Grandma Brown;
They cheered for grandpa loud and long,
And called him "Grandpa, dear,"
He said to them: "Now, come again,
And dine with us next year."

DOLLY DAYS

My mama says that I'm too old
To play with dolls much more,
That I must lay them all away
For dolly days for me are o'er.

But what I'll do, I do not know,
When they're all laid away;
I know I'll sigh and maybe cry,
When I've no doll with me to play.

Then with them all put out of sight
The days will lonely be;
For when I'm mad, or when I'm sad,
There'll be no doll to comfort me.

There's Maggie May, my eldest one,
The doll that was so fine,
Santa let her drop from the chimney top,
And caused a crooked spine.

She's been a cripple ever since,
And such a fretful child,
She's cried and screamed until it seemed
I really should go wild.

There's sweet Marie, a pretty doll,
With hair of golden hue,
With cheeks so bright and chin so white,
And eyes of heaven's blue.

And Rosa Nell, another blond,
Whose temper is so mild,
That every one, both old and young,
Could love the pretty child.

She's broke her nose, but what of that!
She always wears a smile,
She's at her play the livelong day,
And sings most all the while.

There's Lilla Dale, with tangled hair,
Who's lain so long in bed,
When very small she had a fall,
That cracked her little head.

She'll miss my care and I'll miss her
When she is laid away;
For many a time I've soothed her whine
Because she could not play.

And Nellie Gray, the sweet brunette,
Whose hair was dark as night,
My heart will ache and maybe break,
When she's laid out of sight.

She's lost an arm and both her legs,
And only has one curl;
But you may bet she's precious yet,
This dear old darky girl.

But now I'm old; too old, they say,—
I've entered in my teens;
But I'll look back o'er memory's track,
To happy doll-day dreams.

There'll be no hours in years to come,
That have been like the past;
For dolly days and dolly plays
Were just too sweet to last.

THAT GIGGLE

When I arose to speak one day,
I quite forgot what I had to say.
I thought, and thought, and tried in vain
To bring it to my mind again,
And there I stood, with head downcast,
A-dreading what would come at last.

The room grew dark, my heart grew sad,
I thought I surely would go mad;
I tried to speak, but not a word
Or e'en a whisper could be heard.
My limbs with palsy seemed to shake,
My heart with terror seemed to quake.

I heard a giggle clear and loud
Go rippling through the waiting crowd.
I could no longer stand the strain,
For bursting seemed my heart and brain.
Then to my feelings I gave vent,
And weeping to my seat I went.

MARION'S LAMENT

I'm such a lonely little girl,
And play all by myself;
I feel just like a broken doll
That's laid by on the shelf.

And when I'm tired of playing alone,
There's nothing else to do,
But wish I had a brother Joe,
Or little sister Sue.

I think I'll write to Santa Claus
And say I'm lone and sad;
And if he'll bring a baby girl,
I'll be so very glad.

I think that he will bring me one,
For Santa's good to me.
I'll tell him please to hang it on
My little Christmas tree.

WHEN I'M A BIG GIRL

I'll try to be good,
And do as I should,
I'll learn how to work
And never will shirk,
When I'm a big girl.

I'll do with my might
Whatever is right,
I'll study at school
And obey each rule,
When I'm a big girl.

With needle and yarn
My stockings I'll darn,
I'll comb my own tresses
And make my own dresses,
When I'm a big girl.

I'll learn how to bake
Some very nice cake,
I'll make my own bed
And mind what ma said,
When I'm a big girl.

I'll dust, and I'll sweep,
And my dollies I'll keep;
I'll stow them away
To look at some day,
When I'm a big girl.

I'll lay away toys
For some other joys,
I'll never make noise
Like the great big boys,
When I'm a big girl.

Now, had I more time
I'd tell you in rhyme
Some more that I'll do,
When I'm big like you.

WHAT THE BELLS SAID

One Sabbath morn in lovely June,
The old church bells rang out a tune.

Unto the world they seemed to say:
"This is our little children's day.

"Now will you listen to our call,
And come to hear the children small?

"Their songs in voices, sweet and clear,
Unto their Maker you shall hear.

"Their smiling faces are a sight,
That turns all darkness into light.

"Their little speeches are so nice,
That you should hear at any price.

"Their little songs in chorus sound
As though there were no evil 'round.

"Their prayers so humble, sweet, and pure,
Will make you feel that heaven's sure.

"Then come you people, one and all,
And learn the ways of children small.

"And live again those childish days,
Before you learned the worldly ways.

"'Twill bring you back those youthful joys,
Of winsome girls and manly boys.

"'Twill give your soul an upward flight,
And bring your heaven just in sight."

And then the bells rang off their tune,
That lovely Sabbath morn in June.

To listen while the songs of love
Went to the Maker up above;

And listen while a childish prayer,
Was breathed upon the holy air.

WHY?

I often sit and wonder why
It is not always day,
And why the sunshine and the light
Cannot forever stay.

I often sit and wonder why
The birdies are so wild,
And what does make them fly away
From every little child.

And why they always like to sing,
And never like us talk,
And why they always like to fly,
And never like us walk.

Sometimes I sit and wonder too,
About my pussy cats,
Just why they did not have some wings
Like ugly little bats.

My dolly is a mystery too,
And so I wonder why,
When I am washing dolly's face,
She does not pout and cry.

And then it never seemed quite right
To have the world turn round;
It seems so strange we do not fall
Or tumble off the ground.

There are so many other things
That don't look right to me;
I sometimes really don't believe
They're as they ought to be.

BECAUSE

Now what's the use of wondering
Why 'tis not always day?
For we must have the night to sleep
So we can rest from play.

And there's the little birdies too,
It's all right they are wild;
For it never was intended
They should play with a child.

I'd rather hear them singing sweet
Than hear them try to talk;
And rather see them flying high
Than see them try to walk.

Then what would be the use of wings
Upon a pussy cat?
Because she could not catch a mouse
When flying like a bat.

Then what good could a dolly do
To cry, or fret, or scream,
Because her mama's gentle hand
Was trying to wash her clean.

And then I think it is all right
Because the world turns round;
For gravitation in the earth
Does keep us on the ground.

So then, to me, this world of ours
Seems just as it should be;
And with it all I'm satisfied,
And hope it is with me.

HOW HAZEL KEPT HOUSE

"I'm going to be the housekeeper,
While you are gone away,"
Said Hazel to her mama,
One lovely summer day;
"For I can tend the baby,
It's nothing more than play.

"I'll play that I am mama
With lots of work to do;
And then I'll call on brother
To come and help me through
With dishes and the sweeping,
Like papa does help you."

Then mama kissed her daughter,
And said a fond good-by;
But gently did remind her:
"Don't let the baby cry,
Don't burn the dinner pudding,
Don't boil the kettle dry."

There were dishes to be washed,
And kitchen floor to sweep,
And soon the precious baby
To rock and sing to sleep;
And dinner to get ready,
And a watch on pudding keep.

So busy was our Hazel
With dinner to prepare,
She did not notice baby
Was tired of her chair,
Nor that her helpful brother
Had run away somewhere.

She went to stir the pudding,
But baby began to cry;
She had to stop and rock her,
And sing a lullaby;
But could not get her quiet,
No matter how she'd try.

She called for helpful brother,
And thought he was around;
But no response was given,
Not one familiar sound;
For little helpful brother
Was nowhere to be found.

The noon hour was approaching,
With dinner—not in sight,
Although our patient Hazel
Had worked with will and might
To have it cooked and ready,
And make the pudding right.

When papa came at noon-time,
A hungry man was he,
But not a tempting morsel
For dinner could he see;
But poor discouraged Hazel
With baby on her knee.

The table looked untidy,
The floor was yet unswept,
And naughty little brother,—
Safe out of sight had kept,
While Hazel, with the baby,
Had set her down and wept.

When mama came at evening
She heard her daughter say:
"O mama, take the baby,
I've had an awful day!"
And Hazel found that keeping house
Was something more than play.

DROPS OF HONEY

There was a little busy bee
That roamed a field all over;
At last he spied a blossom red
Upon a stem of clover.

He lit upon that blossom red
And searched it through and through;
And found some drops of honey there
That sparkled like the dew.

He took those drops of honey
And put them in his hive;
And when the cold, cold winter came
They kept the bee alive.

WHEN MY DOLLY WENT TO SCHOOL

When my dolly went to school
I bought her a slate and rule
With my only silver dime;
And I said to dolly dear,
"Now, my pretty, do you hear?
You must always be on time."

But I told her not to worry,
Nor get into a flurry
If she happened to be late;
And what teacher has to say
She must every word obey,
And must always sit up straight.

Then her little study book
And some other things she took,
With a bottle full of ink;
And a pen and blotter too,
With a tablet clean and new,
For to write her little think.

But my dolly had a will
And she never would sit still,
So the teacher had to use a stick.
Then the boys would tease her so
Just because she didn't know
How to get her 'rifmatic.

Soon my dolly grew so haughty
And some days she was so naughty
That she wouldn't mind a rule.
And she couldn't learn to spell,
Nor would get her grammar well,
So I thought I'd take her out of school.

And I'd wait a year or two
Till my dolly older grew,
Then, perhaps, she'd try to learn.
But she promised to do better
So I did consent to let her
Go to school another term.

THREE LITTLE KITTENS

Three little kittens,
All sleek as a mouse,
Played hide-and-go-seek,
'Round a honeybee's house.

Three little kittens,
All sleek as a mouse,
Got stung most to death,
'Round a honeybee's house.

Three little kittens,
All sleek as a mouse,
Never played any more,
'Round a honeybee's house.

THE SPIDER'S PARLOR

There was a cunning spider once
Who wove a tangled web;
A shining fly came passing by
And to the spider said:

"What have you in your parlor, sir,
I wish you'd tell to me."
The spider said: "I wish instead
You'd step inside and see.

"My parlor is a pretty place
Where you may sit and rest;
With cozy nooks and picture books,
I think mine is the best.

"I've windows in my parlor, too,
All draped in woven lace;
And as you pass a pretty glass
Reflects a handsome face.

"I've pictures on the mantelshelf
I purchased just of late;
The frames are fine and nicely shine
And all are up to date."

The fly then crossed the threshold line
And never thought of harm;
The spider wise then blinked his eyes
And spun a little yarn.

He said unto his victim fair:
"This is a pretty place;
So won't you fly to the window high
Where hangs the woven lace?"

The fly flew to the window pane
Where spider lace was hung;
And ere he knew just what to do
A web was 'round him strung.

He buzzed and hummed and fluttered there,
And struggled with his might.
The spider sly had caught the fly
And held him very tight.

So let's not listen, like the fly,
To untrue tales that are told;
For we must mind we're sure to find
All glittering things aren't gold.

Let's not be led to danger then
By a sinful, harmful guide;
But walk each day in the narrow way
And shun the one that's wide.

MOTHER GOOSE'S DINNER PARTY

Old Mother Goose
Rode in her caboose,
And invited her friends to dine;
And to each of them said,
As she popped out her head:
"Be sure to come at straight nine."

To Old Mother Hubbard,
Who had a bare cupboard,
With nothing to eat or to sup,
She said: "Bring your dog Jack,
So you can carry back
Enough for to fill you both up."

And to little Bopeep:
"You may bring all your sheep,
And their tails that were hung up to dry."
And to little Jack Horner,
Who sat in the corner,
She said: "I have made a plum pie."

And to little Boy Blue:
"Bring your horn along too,
And play us a rollicking tune;
For the cat with the fiddle
Will play us 'Hi-diddle,'
While the cow jumps over the moon."

And to little Tom Tucker,
Whose face wore a pucker,
Because he had nothing to eat,
She said: "Come to the party
And eat quite hearty,
Then your face will be pleas'nt and sweet."

But of little Tom Green,
The boy who was mean,
She said she would surely leave out;
And would only invite
The boy who did right,
And he was that little John Trout.

To the piper's son Tom,
She said: "Come along
And bring us a pig if you will,"
Then poor simple Simon,
Who met the fat pieman,
She told he could eat to his fill.

And to poor Jack and Jill,
Who fell down the hill,
And cut such a terrible caper:
"Be sure that you bring
A drink from the spring,
And some vinegar and brown paper."

But to bad, bad Peter,
The great pumpkin eater,
She said she thought 'twould be well
To give his poor wife
A change in her life,
And let her come out of her shell.

But poor Humpty-Dumpty!
He got such a bumpty,
When he fell way down from the wall,
That he went all to smash
With a terrible crash,
So she couldn't invite him at all.

Then old Mother Goose
Thought 'twould be of no use
To invite the king and the queen;
For they lived so high
On their blackbird pie,
And with poor folks wouldn't be seen.

But thought 'twould be right
To kindly invite
The woman who lived in the shoe.
So lent her caboose
To be of some use
In bringing the children there too.

So all the folks came
To see the good dame,
And they all spent a jolly good day;
And said their good-byes,
With tears in their eyes,
When the wagons were rolling away.

OLIVE'S ADVICE

Let me tell you what to do
As this world you journey through.

Give a smile to all you meet,
Keep your temper nice and sweet.

Keep your faces bright and clean,
Never do a trick that's mean.

Keep pure thoughts within your mind,
Never say a word unkind.

When at home, or when at school
Please obey each given rule.

Keep in mind your duty ever,
Don't neglect it once, no, never!

Then you'll live a happy life,
Free from trouble, free from strife.

THE OLD AND THE NEW

The year has past and gone at last,
The parting gave us pain;
But though we sigh for one gone by,
'Twill not return again.

We can't recall, not one, not all
The years that we have known;
They came and went and each was spent,
With good and bad seeds sown.

Then let's not whine nor e'en repine
For joys that might have been;
But with brave heart let each take part
To help his fellow-men.

We must not grieve; but still believe
Time will soon brighter be;
Though we've not met with greatness yet,
There's hopes for you and me.

We'll let the past that's gone at last,
Be lost on memory's track;
We'll live no more the old year o'er,
Nor ever wish it back.

The new year's come and now begun,
So ring, ye merry chimes;
Peal one loud strain of sweet refrain,
And bring us better times.

Let's greet the year with words of cheer,
And new resolves we'll make;
We'll strive with might to do the right,
And duty never shake.

With pages turned and wisdom learned
By mishaps in life's dream;
We'll turn one new for me and you,
And keep it white and clean.

We'll keep it well that it may tell
Our vows were not in vain;
And may each one, when this year's done,
Be raised to higher plane.