MAROONED
from a drawing by mabel lucie attwell

Copyright, 1920, By
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.

Copyright, 1912, 1915, By
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.

Manufactured in the U. S. A.

THE EDITORIAL BOARD
of
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.

General Editor: William Byron Forbush, Ph.D., Litt.D.
Author of “The Boy Problem”

Office Editor: Jennie Ellis Burdick
Editor of “The Children’s Own Library”

PARTIAL LIST OF SPECIAL CONTRIBUTORS

PARTIAL LIST OF AUTHORS REPRESENTED

in the boys and girls bookshelf by selections from their writings

PARTIAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATORS

Examples of whose work appear in the Boys and Girls Bookshelf

GENERAL INTRODUCTION

Books are as essentially a part of the home where boys and girls are growing into manhood and womanhood as any other part of the furnishings. Parents have no more right to starve a child’s mind than they have his body. If a child is to take his place among the men and women of his time he needs to know the past out of which the present grew, and he needs to know what is going on in the world in which he lives. He needs tools for his brain as much as for his hands. All these things are found, and found only, in books.

The child is helpless to provide himself with these necessaries for life. The majority of parents are eager that their children shall start early and right on that road which leads to honorable success. But it is impossible for any parent, by no matter how liberal an expenditure, to collect books that shall adequately cover all a child’s needs and interests. This is the task of experts.

INSTRUCTIVE PLAY

Recent studies of childhood have emphasized the conviction that a child develops his talents even more in his playtime than in his school; his spontaneous activities build up his fourfold—physical, mental, social, and moral—nature. Probably no collection of books has been more strongly affected by this modern discovery than the Boys and Girls Bookshelf. The whole effort has been to utilize the child’s play-interests so that they shall express themselves in joyous ways that lead into the world of invention and industry, of imagination and achievement, of science and art and music, of character and worth-while deeds.

Children’s collections have had various literary styles. The encyclopedia is comprehensive, but stately and often dull; it will answer the question of the child, but it does not lead the child toward more knowledge. The scrapbook is interesting, but it has no plan or order. The “inspirational” book is full of fine sentiments, but without facts or much information.

THE PURPOSE OF THE BOOKSHELF

The Bookshelf is so built that it creates a desire for knowledge, and then satisfies that desire. At the same time the Bookshelf does not pretend to tell all that is known on any one subject. The Editors have selected the subjects concerning which no one should be ignorant, and have seen to it that the information is given in an attractive form with plenty of illustrative material, and that when the reader is finished he will have a working knowledge of the subject. To awaken minds and to make them alert and receptive has been the aim in making the Bookshelf.

THE PLAN AND SCOPE

The Bookshelf begins with the dawn of intelligence in the child, and goes with him through the morning of childhood, and into the noonday of youth. It contains a complete stock of finger-plays, action-plays, lullabies, and other entertaining and educational material enjoyable to babies and little children; it reaches into and through the high-school age. In fact, the Bookshelf, with its valuable scientific and natural-history material, its information about inventions and industries, and its literary treasures, is an asset to the library even of an adult.

The Bookshelf is classified. In some libraries material upon an unrelated variety of subjects may be found within the covers of a single volume. This feature has been tried and found wanting. It means that when the reader is on the trail of a given subject he never knows where to look for it, and he is likely to have to hunt through several volumes before he learns what he wants to know. The argument for an unclassified library is that the child who is reading a story may happen at the end of that story upon an article containing valuable information, and thus be lured on to read it. Children are not so easily beguiled. The mental distinction of being, as it were, forced to spring from one theme to another certainly counterbalances any supposed advantage in the scrapbook arrangement. “A place for everything, and everything in its place,” is as true an adage and as necessary to remember and to practise to-day as it ever was.

In addition to classifying the contents of the Bookshelf, the Editors have graded the material. Any collection that is purchased for a home and leaves out the needs of the children of any given age is disappointing to that home. There is also a Graded Index, which is an enlargement upon the general plan.

On the very day of its birth a baby enters the child’s garden of life. In this beautiful place there are weeds as well as flowers, and father and mother must guide the little adventurer so that only the good flowers are developed, while the weeds are held in check and the poisonous plants torn up and destroyed. Earnest parents feel this responsibility very keenly. In “Fun and Thought for Little Folk” there is a well-selected collection of jingles, stories, and play exercises for babies up to about three or four years of age. It covers the earliest informal education of a child, from finger-play days to the alphabet period. It helps parents who wish to enjoy their little children and who do not wish such enjoyment to be a mere matter of chance. Trained kindergartners with the modern viewpoint had much to do with this collection. Not only does it delight the little folk, but it is also the first material for child-training.

Educators are making much nowadays of fairy stories and wonder-tales. The imaginative man, they say, is the effective man, because he has the mental vision which sees farther than the physical eye; and they urge that all children should be the possessors of these nursery tales that have made children happy for so many centuries. “Folk-lore, Fables, and Fairy Tales” is the result of careful comparative study of all the leading anthologies, with added research into sources that have not otherwise been thoroughly explored.

The folk-lore of many races and times has been sifted, and wherever necessary it has been retold so as to be suitable to modern tastes and needs of modern children. Whatever was gruesome or morally undesirable has been omitted, but the flavor and the language of the past have been retained. Here are “Cinderella,” “Tom Thumb,” and all the other favorites of our childhood days, together with the stories that are told to the children in the four corners of the world. While these will be read to our boys and girls before they are able to read for themselves, they will turn back again and again to this department as they grow older. There is perpetual youth in the tales evolved by a race in its infancy.

From the fairy-tale and the folk-lore period, when beasts and trees and all that is about them speak to them in words they can understand, children develop into a stage where they want stories, or, as we say when we are older, fiction. Both they and we mean tales that while untrue yet would be possible of happening. At this age, also, children desire to learn the habits of the animals they see on the farm, in the zoo, and in the circus. The importance of giving children an early acquaintance with good literature is unquestioned, but even the most earnest parent has difficulty in making the selection, finding the source in available form, and keeping out what is unworthy.

“Famous Tales and Nature Stories” has been made with care. Many of the world’s famous stories are collected here, and wherever possible they are in the original language. The nature stories, about flowers and trees, birds and insects, are not formal, but are planned to give the child direct contact with nature and to assist the good habit of direct and interested observation.

This division also includes a Primer and a First Reader, made according to modern principles. Enough reading material is furnished in graded form to enable the home teacher to help her little pupil master the elements of reading, or the child will use it himself to supplement the work of the teacher in school, if the mother is too busy with her other tasks to permit her the enjoyment of teaching her child to read.

All modern kindergarten teaching to-day centers about the development of the child’s own impulses and interests. Of these the two most noticeable are the tendency to play and the tendency to construct. Even if a mother had no higher motive than to keep her little child out of mischief she would welcome a treasury of devices that will always be at hand to answer the question, “Mother, what shall I do now?” But most mothers appreciate the value and importance of well directed play and work. In “Things to Make and Things to Do” are given the directions for elementary cooking, sewing, woodworking and other handicraft. Successful teachers who are close to young children, and who kept home conditions in mind in all their writing, prepared these sections. Educationally they are sound, but, better than that, they are simple and explicit, and within the reach of the resources of each home. Here, too, are the suggestions for the directed and undirected play of the wee tots. The material in this department, while complete in itself, will prepare the way for and supplement all teaching in schools of these important subjects. It is of the first importance that boys and girls recognize the true nature of work and play. This department will help them in the right direction.

As a child grows older he craves true stories. “Mother, did it really happen?” “Father, was that make-believe or real?” These questions are but the sign of mental and spiritual growing pains. If the child is wisely aided, that poise which is so envied by the self-conscious person will be his. The chief factor in poise is knowledge.

To be at home in many lands and times is the mark of a really educated man or woman. Not all of us can actually travel, not all of us can have the privilege of the acquaintance of the world’s great men and women, but it is within the reach of every one to-day to discover, through picture and description, the world’s most far-away lands, and in the pages of books to have an intimate and inspiring acquaintance with the heroes of the nations. If we wish our children to be fine types of men and women, we must form their tastes in these large directions before they are overwhelmed by what is so ephemeral and worthless in literature and drama of the day.

“True Stories from Every Land” is prepared to catch the attention and to hold the interest of young children. Foreign lands are studied not by their boundaries and political affairs, but through the home life, the customs, the sports, and the work of their children, their men, and their women. The approach to history is made by biographies of some of the most interesting heroes, and especially by accounts of the adventurous pioneer days of America. The illustrations in this department are multitudinous, graphic, up-to-date, and many of them unusual. These stories will assist in home and school studies, because they illustrate the history, customs, manners, and peoples of different countries. They will help little children to learn how to read, and incidentally teach them much that will help them to appreciate the privilege and responsibility of being good Americans.

A good book of songs, familiar, tuneful, suitable to all occasions, and graded to suit the differing tastes of separate members of the family, is always welcome. The collection of “Famous Songs,” edited by Winton James Baltzell, is skillfully assembled from the best song-books available, and it also contains many pieces of unusual charm not so generally known. The songs for little children, for instance, are based upon a list approved by our leading kindergartners. A novel feature is that not only are the songs within range of children’s voices, but many of them have been arranged for instrumental use, and some for folk-dancing.

In “Picture Stories” we have a delightful series of reproductions of masterpieces of painting and sculpture of the world’s great art eras. Old masters and modern are well represented. The descriptions were written for children, remembering their interest in the story-element in pictures, and including inspiring details of the artists’ lives. In the other volumes are many more reproductions of masterpieces.

There are two volumes entitled “Nature and Outdoor Life”; the first one, “Trees, Flowers, Amphibians, and Reptiles,” begins with talks about earth, air, and sky, the clouds and weather, the seasons, the ways of bees and bugs and birds, illustrated with portraits of real children busy in observing the things of nature. Then follow sections on Familiar Flowers, Plant Life, Common Trees, and Reptiles and Amphibians, each written by an expert on the subject, and all profusely illustrated with photographs and drawings, many of the illustrations being in color. All this material is written in an easy and familiar style and in a manner to stimulate the right kind of curiosity. Children are encouraged to ask questions, and are unconsciously led to observe and read for themselves. Both this volume and its companion, “Birds, Animals, and Insects,” help boys and girls to find out many secrets of nature. In the second nature series we begin with pets and domestic animals, and then study the wild animals and birds of America. Next we learn of the ways of the birds and animals in other lands, which we meet in the zoölogical gardens of our own country. The volume closes with descriptions of the invertebrates.

The natural sciences are cared for in “Earth, Sea, and Sky.” Each division is more fascinating than the last, as it unfolds the world to us. We all want to know, and ought to know, more about the sphere upon which we live, its place in the universe, how it came to be peopled, and what are some of the laws that govern its magnificent forces and changes. This department is as interesting to old as to young, though it will find a warm place in the hearts of the youths who are just getting interested in physics, physiography, chemistry, and electricity.

An earlier volume covered the play and hand-work of little children. Our young people are now ready for games more skillful and coöperative, and handicraft more elaborate and involving a finer finish. “Games and Handicraft” supplies this need. If we are going to have a more interesting home life, if we are going to keep our boys and girls off the streets and away (sometimes) from the movies, if we are going to supplement the textbook work of the schools by the education of the hands, we need adequate handbooks to guide us. Sometimes such books are too vague to be practical. Here are working-drawings that are detailed and exact. That these projects can be executed is evidenced by the photographs of the finished work.

“Where can I get up-to-date, interesting and trustworthy descriptions of modern inventions for my young folks?” How many times this question is asked of book-store clerks by fathers! How often is a satisfactory answer given? Often such books are not up to date; usually they are too technical to be interesting; if they are interesting they are often untrustworthy; and none of them covers more than a portion of the ground. “Wonders of Invention” represents an earnest endeavor to meet this wide need within the covers of a single volume. The Editors were fortunate in obtaining for this department the coöperation of steamship companies, great electrical concerns, concrete firms, inventors and others “who know.” The illustrations were selected individually, and add to the value and interest of the text.

VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE

As a child develops toward maturity his talents begin to focus and his interests to direct themselves toward some special life occupation. The matter of Vocational Guidance is the most vital thing in education to-day, but wisdom in this field is far to seek. Changes in the industrial world are so rapid that books giving mere statistics of salaries and requirements are soon out of date, and they have no appeal to the young. Motive, rather than immediate gain, is what affects young people; and the Editors of The Bookshelf have felt that the one wise way to approach this great question is to describe the important activities of the world and some of the men who have been occupied in them, that young readers may be able to make an intelligent choice, and at the same time discover their own special talents. This section of The Bookshelf is known as “Marvels of Industry.” Aside from its value as a vocational guide, this volume will add much to the enjoyment of the family circle because of the facts that are gleaned from a perusal of its pages.

In “True Stories from Every Land” the little folks made the acquaintance of the world’s children. It is now time for the older young folk to travel. In “Every Land and Its Story” we take a journey around the world, beginning in North America, covering the rest of the New World, and then going to Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and the islands of the sea. The greatest emphasis is laid upon the lands that we love the most. In the United States the eight great natural divisions are described, then the Indians, the National Parks, Alaska, and Porto Rico. The greatest cities are visited in turn, the characteristics of each being picturesquely described. Canada is visited in the same way. In each case the country is described by a competent, interesting traveler, in many instances by one who has lived there a long time, and in some cases by a famous writer. Carefully chosen photographs illustrate this department.

Carlyle was right, at least as far as young people are concerned, when he insisted that history is only biography. The character-making influence of great lives has never been denied, and ought never to be neglected. “Famous Men and Women” begins with the men who made the United States and Canada. It tells about some of the living Men Who Count to-day. A simple graphic history of the greatest event in history, the World War of 1914-1918, is given. Then comes a glorious pageant of Scientists and Inventors, Writers and Rulers, National Heroes, and Servants of the Common Good. This material will not only form an excellent supplemental reading book, but a valued treasury for everyday inspiration.

Crowning the collection, and of surpassing importance, is “Bookland—Story and Verse.” This is an introduction to the best literature in poetry and prose for young people from twelve to twenty; in fact, for young people from twelve to eighty. The prose stories are presented in the language of the masters themselves. There is no diluting of their fine literary style. Careful abridgments have been made by well-known literary critics, but the essence of these masterpieces has been retained. This is important: our young people should know the great, not only about them. The poems are usually given entire.

In making the General Index and the Graded Index the Editors have remembered that these are for use, not to fill space. The General Index is practical and will help the user to find just what he is looking for, and to find it quickly. The Graded Index is intended primarily for the use of the parent. It sorts out and selects the best material for each age. First is given a brief, clear account of the tastes and needs of Infancy, Early Childhood, Middle Childhood, Late Childhood, and Adolescence. Then all the material in The Bookshelf is assorted under its score of important subjects, and put in the grade where it belongs. By this plan the child may be directed to what he wants and needs now, and each year he will grow more and more into the riches of his Bookshelf.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Many questions are listed in the Indexes. This is a very instructive feature, for it often sets the mind alert in some new direction and starts fresh lines of interest and research. These questions may be made the means of making many a family evening one of pleasure and profit, as one member asks the questions and the others take turns in answering them.

AMERICAN

The Bookshelf is American in viewpoint, but worldwide in outlook. While it has been produced within the United States, it is larger than the United States or even than North America. Unusual space is given to Canadian affairs and interests, and the rest of the world has not been neglected. Throughout the entire set, and in the Child Welfare Manual, available to parents in connection with The Bookshelf, there is an emphasis on character, uprightness, honor, service, which is distinctly aimed to build up that type of manhood and womanhood for which the good American is famed at home and abroad.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The Publishers and the Editors wish to thank each and every one of the individuals who have coöperated with them to make The Bookshelf what it is. The courtesy, the heartiness with which assistance has been given, the belief of these friends in the success of the ideals of The Bookshelf, have made the task of compiling, editing, and manufacturing a pleasure.

Special acknowledgment must be given at this time to the photographers, Brown Brothers, Underwood & Underwood, and the Publishers Photo Service, for the use of many copyrighted pictures from their files. In a number of instances, when they did not have a particular picture desired, it was made by one of them specially for The Bookshelf.

The Editors, in preparing the manuscript for these volumes, have endeavored in all cases where material has been used which has previously appeared in print to give credit to author, publisher, and book, and to any other to whom such acknowledgment was due. If they have failed to do so in any particular case, it has been an oversight, for which the Publishers are not responsible, as their instructions on this point were definite, and for which the Editors express their regrets. Future editions will offer an opportunity for the correction, which will be gladly made.

INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME I

Most mothers and fathers realize that long before children are old enough to read there is a rich treasury of rhythm and song and story that may be given them. To make this treasury available is the purpose of this volume.

Finger-plays and action-plays, in which Froebel found so rich a meaning, do much to help the baby to know and control his fingers and hands, to enable him to discover the other parts of his body, to awaken his intelligence and to bring him into affectionate companionship with his father and mother. Here we have gathered not only the traditional ones, which the mother and father may remember from their own early childhood; but also many that will be fresh and new.

Mother Goose long ago established her throne as Queen of the Nursery. There is something about her short ditties, always full of rhythm, sometimes of sense, and frequently of the most elemental humor, that appeals to the baby mind as nothing else does. A proof of the worth of her songs and stories would be found if any of us should try to write better. We have brought together many familiar ones and some unfamiliar (for Mother Goose lived in many times and many lands), and have illustrated them with some new and charming drawings and color-plates.

Children as young as three are ready for the simplest sort of stories, but it is so hard for us grown-ups to become children again that many of us have found difficulty in suiting our language and thought to their eager but unfurnished minds. These bedtime stories and little tales of babies and animals and girls and boys are therefore a real godsend.

Soon comes the time when the little folk are ready to learn about the letters and the numbers and the days of the week. Rhymes to help this first memorizing will be welcome.

Most of the stories in this book are illustrated by pictures, some are told entirely by them. The choice of these illustrations was made from our best modern knowledge about little children. It is now recognized that they like simple incidents, about themselves or the familiar things around them, drawn in clear outline or with strong color. There are certain artists, too, who seem to have retained their own childlikeness better than others, and such were called upon to illustrate this volume.

CONTENTS

[Pg 1]

[Pg 2]

These ten little live playthings can be held in every baby’s hand, five in one and five in the other and be the baby ever so poor yet he always has these ten playthings because, you know, he brings them with him.

But all babies do not know how to play with them. They find out for themselves a good many ways of playing with them but here are some of the ways that a baby I used to know got amusement out of his.

The very first was the play called “Ta-ra-chese” (Ta-rar-cheese). It is a Dutch word and there was a little song about it all in Dutch. This is the way the baby I knew would play it when he was a tiny little fellow.

His Mamma would hold her hand up and move it gently around this way (Fig. 1) singing “Ta-ra-chese, ta-ra-chese!” Baby would look and watch awhile, and presently his little hand would begin to move and five little playthings would begin the play—dear, sweet little chubby pink fingers—for I think you have guessed these are every baby’s playthings.

How glad Mamma is to find that her baby has learned his first lesson!

Then he must learn, “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake Baker’s man,” (Fig. 2) and “How big is baby?” “So Big!”

And here are some other ways by which a little sister’s fingers may amuse the baby.

“This the church and this is the steeple, Open the gates—there are all the good people.” (Fig. 3)

“Chimney sweep—Oho! oho! Chimney sweep!” (Fig. 4)

“Put your finger in the bird’s nest. The bird isn’t home.” (Fig. 5)

[Pg 3]

And then when the little finger is poked in, a sly pinch is given by a hidden thumb and baby is told, “The birdie has just come home!” But you mustn’t pinch hard, of course, just enough to make baby laugh at being caught.

And then there is the play of “Two men sawing wood—one little boy picking up chips.” (Fig. 6) The two finger men are moved up and down and the little boy finger works busily.

Everybody knows the rhyming finger-play:

“Here’s my Father’s knives and forks, (Fig. 7)
“Here’s my Mother’s table, (Fig. 8)
“Here’s my Sister’s looking-glass, (Fig. 9)
“And here’s the baby’s cradle.” (Fig. 10)

Another play is a little act in which three persons are supposed to take part, and it has come down from the old times of long ago.

The middle finger is the Friar. Those on each side of him touch each other and make the door, the little finger is the Lady and the thumb is the Page. (Fig. 11)

The Friar knocks at the door.

Friar. “Knock, Knock, Knock!”

Page. “Somebody knocks at the door! Somebody knocks at the door!”

Lady. “Who is it? Who is it?”

Page. (Going to door) “Who is it? Who is it?”

Friar. “A Friar, a Friar.”

Page. “A Friar, Ma’am, a Friar, Ma’am.”

Lady. “What does he want? What does he want?”

Page. “What do you want, Sir? What do you want, Sir?”

Friar. “I want to come in. I want to come in.”

Page. “He wants to come in, Ma’am. He wants to come in.”

Lady. “Let him walk in. Let him walk in.”

Page. “Will you walk in, Sir? Will you walk in?”

So in he pops and takes a seat.

When each player is supposed to speak he or she must move gently, bending forward and back and when the Friar is invited to enter, the door must open only just far enough to let him “pop in.”

These are only some of the plays with which the baby I knew used to be amused; but they will suggest others to parents and older brothers and sisters. The baby cannot make all of these things himself but he will be quite as much interested when they are made by older hands.

[Pg 4]

[Pg 5]

[Pg 6]

COUNTING THE FINGERS

This is the thumb, you see;
This finger shakes the tree;
And then this finger comes up;
And this one eats the plums up;
This little one, says he,
“I’ll tell of you, you’ll see!”

That one is the thumb;
And this one wants a plum;
This one says, “Where do they grow?”
This one says, “Come with me—I know.”
But this little one, he says,
“I will not go near the place!
I don’t like such naughty ways.”

Now, I think that through and through
Little Finger’s right—don’t you?

This one fell in the water,
And this one helped him ashore,
And this one put him into bed,
And this one covered him o’er;
And then, in walks this noisy little chap,
And wakes him up once more.

This one walked out into the wood,
And caught a little hare;
And this one took and carried it home,
For he thought it dainty fare;
And this one came and cooked it up
With sauces rich and rare;
And this one laid the table out,
And did the plates prepare;
And this little fellow the keeper told
What the others were doing there.

AN OLD NORSE FINGER PLAY

Thicken man, build the barn,
Thinner man, spool the yarn,
Longen man, stir the brew,
Gowden man, make a shoe,
Littlen man, all for you!

BABY’S TOES

Dear little bare feet,
Dimpled and white,
In your long nightgown
Wrapped for the night.

Come, let me count all
Your queer little toes,
Pink as the heart
Of a shell or a rose.

One is a lady
That sits in the sun;
Two is a baby,
And three is a nun.

Four is a lily
With innocent breast;
And five is a birdie
Asleep on her nest.

[Pg 7]

“BABY’S TOES”

BY EDITH A. BENTLEY

Five little piggie wiggies
Standing in a row,
We always have to toddle
Where the baby wants to go;
Up-stairs and down-stairs,
Indoors and out,
We’re always close together
And we never fall out.

Chorus:
Father-Pig and Mother-Pig,
And Big-Brother Pig,
And Sister-Pig, and darling little
Baby Piggie-Wig!

Oh, sometimes we are all tied up
In a bag so tight.
This is when the baby goes
“To sleepy-bye” at night.
Then there’s nothing else to do
But cuddle down and rest—
Just as little birdies cuddle
In their little nest.

Chorus:
Father-Pig and Mother-Pig
And Big-Brother Pig,
And Sister-Pig, and darling little
Baby Piggie-Wig!

[Pg 8]

THIS IS THE WAY MY FINGERS STAND

To the tune of “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.”

This is the way my fingers stand,
Fingers stand, fingers stand,
This is the way my fingers stand,
So early in the morning.

This is the way I fold my hand,
Fold my hand, fold my hand,
This is the way I fold my hand,
So early in the morning.

This is the way they dance about,
Dance about, dance about,
This is the way they dance about,
So early in the morning.

This is the way they go to rest,
Go to rest, go to rest,
This is the way they go to rest,
So early in the morning.

THUMBKIN, POINTER

Thumbkin, Pointer, Middleman big,
Sillyman, Weeman, rig-a-jig-jig.

NAMING THE FINGERS[A]

BY LAURA E. RICHARDS

This is little Tommy Thumb,
Round and smooth as any plum.
This is busy Peter Pointer:
Surely he’s a double-jointer.
This is mighty Toby Tall,
He’s the biggest one of all.
This is dainty Reuben Ring:
He’s too fine for anything.
And this little wee one, maybe,
Is the pretty Finger-baby.

All the five we’ve counted now,
Busy fingers in a row.
Every finger knows the way
How to work and how to play;
Yet together work they best,
Each one helping all the rest.

ROBERT BARNS

Robert Barns, fellow fine,
Can you shoe this horse of mine,
So that I may cut a shine?
Yes, good sir, and that I can,
As well as any other man;
There a nail, and here a prod,
And now, good sir, your horse is shod.

“SHALL I, OH! SHALL I?”

A little boy and a little girl
Lived in an alley;
Said the little boy to the little girl,
“Shall I, oh! shall I?”

Said the little girl to the little boy,
“What will you do?”
Said the little boy to the little girl,
“I will kiss you.”

(As the last words are sung, the mother kisses
the little one in the folds of the neck.)

OFF WITH MOTHER GOOSE
from a drawing by mabel lucie attwell

[Pg 9]

JACK, BE NIMBLE

Jack, be nimble,
Jack, be quick;

(Jack is one hand walking along on its
fore- and middle-fingers.)

Jack, jump over
The candlestick.

(Fist closed; uplifted thumb for candle.
Jack jumps over it.)

TWO LITTLE HANDS

Two little hands so soft and white,
This is the left—this is the right.
Five little fingers stand on each,
So I can hold a plum or a peach.
But if I should grow as old as you
Lots of little things these hands can do.

————

PAT A CAKE

Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker’s man.
So I do, master, as fast as I can.
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,
And then it will serve for Tommy and me.

[Pg 10]

THE BIRD’S NEST

A Froebel Finger Play

Here upon the leaves at rest
A little bird has built her nest.
Two tiny eggs within she’s laid,
And many days beside them stayed.
Now she’s happy; listen well!
Two baby birds break through the shell.
Don’t you hear them? “Peep! peep! peep!
We love you, mother. Cheep! cheep! cheep!”

TWO LITTLE BLACKBIRDS

There were two blackbirds sitting on a hill,
(Little pieces of paper perched on forefingers.)
One named Jack, the other named Jill.
Fly away, Jack; fly away, Jill.
(Fingers soar gently in the air.)
Come again, Jack; come again, Jill.
(Fingers fly back.)

MASTER SMITH

Is Master Smith within? Yes, that he is.
Can he set a shoe? Ay, marry, two.
Here a nail, and there a nail,
Tick—tack—too.

LITTLE ROBIN REDBREAST

Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a rail,
(Right hand extended in shape of a bird is poised
on extended forefinger of left hand.)
Niddle noddle went his head,
And waggle went his tail.
(Little finger of right hand waggles from side to side.)

GREETING

Good little Mother,
How do you do?
Dear strong “Daddy,”
Glad to see you!
Big tall Brother,
Pleased you are here.
Kind little Sister,
You need not fear,
Glad welcome we’ll give you,
And Babykins, too.
Yes, Babykins,
How do you do?

A PLAY FOR THE ARMS

Pump, pump, pump,
Water, water, come;
Here a rush, there a gush,
Done, done, done.

THE LITTLE WINDOW

A Froebel Finger Play

Look, my dear, at this window clear.
See how the light shines through in here.
If you would always see the light,
Keep your heart’s window clean and bright.

[Pg 11]

SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie;
When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the King?

The King was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The Queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey;
The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes;
When up came a blackbird
And nipped off her nose.

(At this line somebody’s nose gets nipped.)

THE PIGEON HOUSE

A Froebel Finger Play

Now I’m going to open my pigeon-house door.
The pigeons fly out to the light,
Straight to the meadows so pleasant they soar,
And flutter about with delight.
But at evening they’ll all come home at last,
And the door of the house I’ll then shut fast.

[Pg 12]

SAID THIS LITTLE FAIRY

Said this little fairy, “I’m as thirsty as can be.”
Said this little fairy, “I’m hungry, too, dear me!”
Said this little fairy, “Who’ll tell us where to go?”
Said this little fairy, “I’m sure that I don’t know.”
Said this little fairy, “Let’s brew some dewdrop tea.”
So they sipped it and ate honey beneath the maple tree.

A BURROWING GAME

See the little mousie, creeping up the stair,
Looking for a warm nest—there, oh, there!

(Mother’s fingers creep up the body, and finally fumble in baby’s neck.)

PAT A CAKE

A Froebel Finger Play

Baby, would you like to make
For yourself a little cake?
Pat it gently, smooth it down.
Baker says: “Now, in to brown;
Bring it here, baby dear,
While the oven fire burns clear.”
“Baker, see, here is my cake;
Bake it well for baby’s sake.”
“In the oven, right deep down,
Here the cake will soon get brown.”

A KNEE GAME

What do I see? Baby’s knee.
Tickily, tickily, tic, tac, tee.
One for a penny, two for a pound;
Tickily, tickily, round and round.

A FOOT PLAY

Up, down—up, down.
One foot up and one foot down,
All the way to London town.
Tra la la la la la.

[Pg 13]

Putting The Fingers To Sleep

My fingers are so sleepy
It’s time they went to bed,
So first, you Baby Finger
Tuck in your Little Head.

Ringman, come now its your turn,
And then come, Tallman Great;
Now, Pointer Finger, hurry
Because its getting late.

Let’s see if all are snuggled.
No, here’s one more to come,
So come, lie close, little brothers,
Make room for Master Thumb.

[Pg 14]

TEN LITTLE SQUIRRELS

Ten little squirrels up in a tree—
(Ten fingers outspread.)

The first two said: “What do I see?”
(Thumbs only.)

The next two said: “A man with a gun.”
(Forefingers only.)

The next two said: “Let’s run, let’s run.”
(Middle fingers only.)

The next two said: “Let’s hide in the shade.”
(Ring fingers only.)

The last two said: “We’re not afraid.”
(Little fingers only.)

Bang! went a gun.
(Clap hands.)

Away they all run.
(All fingers scamper off.)

[Pg 15]

MY LITTLE GARDEN

See my little garden,

How I rake it over,

Then I sow the little brown seeds,

And with soft earth cover.

Now the raindrops patter
On the earth so gayly;

See the big round sun smile
On my garden daily.

The little plant is waking;
Down the roots grow creeping;

Up now come the leaflets
Through the brown earth peeping.

Soon the buds will laugh up
Toward the springtime showers;
Soon my buds will open
Into happy flowers.

[Pg 16]

THE FAMILY[B]

BY EMILIE POULSSON

This is the mother, so busy at home,
Who loves her dear children, whatever may come.

This is the father, so brave and so strong,
Who works for his family all the day long.

This is the brother, who’ll soon be a man,
He helps his good mother as much as he can.

This is the sister, so gentle and mild,
Who plays that the dolly is her little child.

This is the baby, all dimpled and sweet,
How soft his wee hands and his chubby pink feet!

Father, and mother,
and children so dear,

Together you see them,
one family here.

[Pg 17]

IN DREAMLAND

[Pg 18]

JOHNNY SHALL HAVE A NEW BONNET

Johnny shall have a new bonnet,
And Johnny shall go to the fair,
And Johnny shall have a new ribbon
To tie up his bonny brown hair.

And why may not I love Johnny?
And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny?
As well as another body?

And here’s a leg for a stocking,
And here is a foot for a shoe,
And he has a kiss for his daddy,
And two for his mammy, I trow.

And why may not I love Johnny?
And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny
As well as another body?

[Pg 19]

TO MARKET RIDE THE GENTLEMEN

To market ride the gentlemen,
So do we, so do we;
Then comes the country clown,
Hobbledy gee, Hobbledy gee;
First go the ladies, nim, nim, nim,
Next come the gentlemen, trim, trim, trim;
Then come the country clowns, gallop-a-trot.

HERE GOES MY LORD

Here goes my lord—
A trot! a trot! a trot! a trot!
Here goes my lady—
A canter! a canter! a canter! a canter!
Here goes my young master—
Jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch!
Here goes my young miss—
An amble! an amble! an amble! an amble!
The footman lags behind,
And goes gallop, a gallop, a gallop, to make up his time.

[Pg 20]

A FARMER WENT TROTTING

A farmer went trotting upon his gray mare;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
With his daughter behind him, so rosy and fair;
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

A raven cried croak! and they all tumbled down;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
The mare broke her knees, and the farmer his crown;
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

The mischievous raven flew laughing away;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
And vowed he would serve them the same the next day;
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

UP TO THE CEILING

Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
Backward and forward, round and round;
Dance, little baby, and mother will sing,
With the merry chorus, ding, ding, ding!

THE MESSENGER

Here in the morning we’re starting so soon,
Give us a message, we’ll ride to the moon,
Straight through the meadows and hop o’er the stile,
And we will but charge you a farthing a mile.
A farthing a mile! a farthing a mile!
We will but charge you a farthing a mile.

CATCH HIM, CROW

Catch him, crow! Carry him, kite!
Take him away till the apples are ripe;
When they are ripe and ready to fall,
Home comes [Johnny], apples and all.

[Pg 21]

THIS IS THE WAY

This is the way the ladies ride,
Nin! Nin! Nin!
This is the way the gentlemen ride,
Trot! Trot! Trot!
This is the way the farmers ride,
Jogglety! Jogglety! Jogglety! Jog!

RIDE AWAY, RIDE AWAY

Ride away, ride away,
Johnny shall ride,
And he shall have pussy-cat
Tied to one side;
And he shall have little dog
Tied to the other,
And Johnny shall ride
To see his grandmother.

TO MARKET, TO MARKET

To market, to market,
To buy a plum bun;
Home again, home again,
My journey is done.

TROT, TROT, THE BABY GOES

BY MARY F. BUTTS

Every evening Baby goes
Trot, trot, to town—
Across the river, through the fields,
Up hill and down.

Trot, trot, the Baby goes,
Up hill and down,
To buy a feather for her hat,
To buy a woolen gown.

Trot, trot, the Baby goes;
The birds fly down, alack!
“You cannot have our feathers, dear,”
They say; “so please trot back.”

Trot, trot, the Baby goes;
The lambs come bleating near.
“You cannot have our wool,” they say;
“But we are sorry, dear.”

Trot, trot, the Baby goes,
Trot, trot, to town.
She buys a red rose for her hat,
She buys a cotton gown.

[Pg 22]

RIDE A COCK-HORSE

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury-cross,
To see what Tommy can buy;
A penny white loaf, a penny white cake,
And a two-penny apple pie.

Ride a cock-horse to Shrewsbury-cross,
To buy little Johnny a galloping horse;
It trots behind and it ambles before,
And Johnny shall ride till he can ride no more.

[Pg 23]

[Pg 24]

WHO ARE THESE?

here are one, two, three, four, five, six story-book pictures. all little girls
and boys know the six stories that these six pictures belong
to. tell your mama and papa what the stories are.

THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN
from a drawing by anne anderson

[Pg 25]

I SAW A SHIP A-SAILING

I saw a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea;
And, oh! it was all laden
With pretty things for thee!

There were candies in the cabin,
And apples in the hold;
The sails were made of silk,
And the masts were made of gold.

The four-and-twenty sailors
That stood between the decks,
Were four-and-twenty white mice,
With chains about their necks.

The captain was a duck,
With a packet on his back;
And when the ship began to move,
The captain cried, “Quack, quack!”

GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER

Goosey, goosey, gander, where dost thou wander?
Up stairs and down stairs, and in my lady’s chamber;
There I met an old man that would not say his prayers,
I took him by his hind legs and threw him down stairs.

THE WIND

Arthur O’Bower has broken his band,
He comes roaring up the land—
A King of Scots, with all his power,
Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower.

ONCE I SAW A LITTLE BIRD

Once I saw a little bird
Come hop, hop, hop,
So I said, “Little bird,
Will you stop, stop, stop?”

I was going to the window
To say, “How do you do?”
But he shook his little tail
And far away he flew.

RING-A-RING-A-ROSES

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We’re all tumbled down.

[Pg 26]

CROSS PATCH

Cross patch,
Draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin;

Take a cup,
And drink it up,
And call your neighbors in.

HAPPY LET US BE

Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring;
Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,
And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!

Merry have we met, and merry have we been;
Merry let us part, and merry meet again;
With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,
And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!

THE OLD WOMAN IN THE BASKET

There was an old woman tossed up in a basket,
Nineteen times as high as the moon;
Where she was going I couldn’t but ask it
For in her hand she carried a broom.

“Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I,
O whither, O whither, O whither so high?”
“To brush the cobwebs off the sky!”
“Shall I go with thee?” “Aye, by-and-by.”

[Pg 27]

From a Drawing by Arthur Rackham

“Where she was going I couldn’t but ask it,
For in her hand she carried a broom.”

[Pg 28]

THE FOX AND THE OLD GRAY GOOSE

The fox and his wife they had a great strife,
They never ate mustard in all their whole life;
They ate their meat without fork or knife,
And loved to be picking a bone, e-ho!

The fox jumped up on a moonlight night,
The stars they were shining, and all things bright.
Oh, ho! said the fox, it’s a very fine night
For me to go through the town, e-ho!

The fox when he came to yonder stile,
He lifted his lugs and he listened awhile;
Oh, ho, said the fox, it’s but a short mile
From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho!

The fox when he came to the farmer’s gate,
Who should he see but the farmer’s drake;
I love you well for your master’s sake,
And long to be picking your bone, e-ho!

The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack.
Oh, ho! said the fox, you are very fat;
You’ll grease my beard and ride on my back
From this unto yonder wee town e-ho!

Old Gammer Hipple-hopple hopped out of bed,
She opened the casement, and popped out her head.
Oh! husband, oh! husband, the gray goose is dead,
And the fox is gone through the town, oh!

Then the old man got up in his red cap,
And swore he would catch the fox in a trap;
But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip,
And ran through the town, the town, e-oh!

When he got to the top of the hill,
He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill,
For joy that he was safe
Through the town, e-oh!

When the fox came back to his den,
He had young ones, both nine and ten.
“You’re welcome home, daddy; you may go again,
If you bring us such nice meat from the town, e-oh!”

[Pg 29]

JACK AND JILL

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To draw a pail of water;
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got, and home did trot
As fast as he could caper;
Went to bed to mend his head,
With vinegar and brown paper.

Jill came in, and she did grin
To see his paper plaster;
Mother, vexed, did whip her next
For causing Jack’s disaster.

WILLY BOY

Willy boy, Willy boy, where are you going?
I will go with you if I may
“I’m going to the meadow to see them a-mowing,
I’m going to help them make the hay.”

BONNY LASS

Bonny lass, bonny lass, wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet serve the swine:
Thou shalt sit on a cushion, and sew a fine seam,
And thou shalt eat strawberries, sugar, and cream!

[Pg 30]

OH, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

Oh, where are you going,
My pretty maiden fair,
With your red rosy cheeks,
And your coal-black hair?

I’m going a-milking,
Kind sir, says she,
And it’s dabbling in the dew
Where you’ll find me.

BOBBY SHAFTOE

Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea,
Silver buckles on his knee;
He’ll come back and marry me,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

Bobby Shaftoe’s fat and fair,
Combing down his yellow hair,
He’s my love for evermair,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

DING-DONG-BELL

Ding—
Dong—
Bell!
Pussy’s in the well.
Who put her in? Little Johnny Green.
Who pulled her out? Big Johnny Stout.
What a naughty boy was that,
To drown poor pussy cat,
Who never did him any harm,
And killed the mice in his father’s barn.

[Pg 31]

LONDON BRIDGE

London bridge is broken down,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
London bridge is broken down,
With a gay ladye.

How shall we build it up again?
Dance over my Lady Lee,
How shall we build it up again?
With a gay ladye.

We’ll build it up with gravel and stone,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
We’ll build it up with gravel and stone,
With a gay ladye.

Gravel and stone will be washed away,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
Gravel and stone will be washed away,
With a gay ladye.

We’ll build it up with iron and steel,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
We’ll build it up with iron and steel,
With a gay ladye.

Iron and steel will bend and break,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
Iron and steel will bend and break,
With a gay ladye.

We’ll build it up with silver and gold,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
We’ll build it up with silver and gold,
With a gay ladye.

Silver and gold will be stolen away,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
Silver and gold will be stolen away,
With a gay ladye.

We’ll set a man to watch it then,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
We’ll set a man to watch it then,
With a gay ladye.

We’ll put a pipe within his mouth,
Dance over my Lady Lee,
We’ll put a pipe within his mouth,
With a gay ladye.

“Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea.”

[Pg 32]

GREEN GRAVEL

All round the green gravel the grass grows so green,
And all the pretty maids are fit to be seen,
Wash them in milk, dress them in silk,
And the first to go down shall be married in green.

OLD MOTHER HUBBARD

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor dog a bone;
But when she came there
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker’s
To buy him some bread,
But when she came back
The poor dog was dead.

She went to the joiner’s
To buy him a coffin,
But when she came back
The poor dog was laughing.

She went to the butcher’s
To get him some tripe,
But when she came back
He was smoking his pipe.

She went to the hatter’s
To buy him a hat,
But when she came back
He was feeding the cat.

She went to the barber’s
To buy him a wig,
But when she came back
He was dancing a jig.

She went to the tailor’s
To buy him a coat,
But when she came back
He was riding a goat.

She went to the cobbler’s
To buy him some shoes,
But when she came back
He was reading the news.

She went to the seamstress
To buy him some linen,
But when she came back
The dog was a-spinning.

She went to the hosier’s
To buy him some hose,
But when she came back
He was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsey,
The dog made a bow;
The dame said, “Your servant.”
The dog said, “Bow, wow.”

[Pg 33]

THE STORY OF MOTHER HUBBARD, TOLD IN JAPANESE PICTURES.

[Pg 34]

LITTLE BO-PEEP

Little Bo-Peep, she lost her sheep,
And can’t tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,
And bring their tails behind them.

Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamed she heard them bleating;
When she awoke she found it a joke,
For they still were all fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them,
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they’d left their tails behind them!

It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray
Unto a meadow hard by—
There she espied their tails side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry.

She heaved a sigh and wiped her eye,
Then went over hill and dale,
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
To tack to each sheep its tail.

[Pg 35]

COME OUT TO PLAY

Boys and girls, come out to play,
The moon does shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And meet your playfellows in the street,
Come with a whoop and come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all.
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
You find milk and I’ll find flour,
And we’ll have pudding in half an hour.

LITTLE ROBIN REDBREAST

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went the Pussy-Cat, and down went he!
Down came Pussy-Cat, away Robin ran,
Says little Robin Redbreast—catch me if you can.

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a spade,
Pussy-Cat jumped after him, and then he was afraid.
Little Robin chirped and sung, and what did Pussy say?
Pussy-Cat said Mew, mew, mew—and Robin flew away.

[Pg 36]

LITTLE BOY BLUE

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn.
What! Is this the way you mind your sheep,
Under the haycock, fast asleep?

MY MAID MARY

My maid Mary
She minds her dairy,
While I go a-hoeing and mowing each morn.
Merrily runs the reel
And the little spinning-wheel
While I am singing and mowing my corn.

[Pg 37]

BEGGARS ARE COME TO TOWN

Hark! Hark!
The dogs do bark!
The beggars are come to town;

Some in rags,
Some in jags,
And some in velvet gowns.

BLOW, WIND, BLOW!

Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!
That the miller may grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And send us some hot in the morn.

BYE, BABY BUNTING

Bye, Baby bunting,
Father’s gone a-hunting,
Mother’s gone a-milking,
Sister’s gone a-silking,
And Brother’s gone to buy a skin,
To wrap the Baby bunting in.

[Pg 38]

THREE LITTLE KITTENS

Three little kittens, they lost their mittens,
And they began to cry:
“O mother dear,
We very much fear,
That we have lost our mittens.”
Lost your mittens!
You naughty kittens!
Then you shall have no pie.
“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow,”
No, you shall have no pie.
“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.”

The three little kittens, they found their mittens,
And they began to cry:
“O mother dear,
See here, see here!
See! we have found our mittens.”
Put on your mittens
You silly kittens,
And you may have some pie.
“Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r,
O let us have the pie.
Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.”

The three little kittens put on their mittens,
And soon ate up the pie;
“O mother dear,
We greatly fear,
That we have soiled our mittens.”
Soiled your mittens!
You naughty kittens!
Then they began to sigh,
“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.”
Then they began to sigh,
“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.”

[Pg 39]

The three little kittens, they washed their mittens.
And hung them out to dry;
“O mother dear,
Do you not hear,
That we have washed our mittens?”
Washed your mittens!
Oh, you’re good kittens.
But I smell a rat close by;
Hush! Hush! “Mee-ow, mee-ow.
We smell a rat close by,
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.”

TOM WAS A PIPER’S SON

Tom, Tom was a piper’s son,
He learned to play when he was young,
And all the tune that he could play
Was “Over the hills and far away.”
Over the hills, and a great way off,
The wind will blow my top-knot off.

Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise
That he well pleased both the girls and boys,
And they always stopped to hear him play
“Over the hills and far away.”

[Pg 40]

DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY

Daffy-down-dilly is new come to town,
With a petticoat green, and a bright yellow gown,
And her white blossoms are peeping around.

BILLY BOY

Oh, where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?
“I have been to seek a wife,
She’s the joy of my life,
She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”

What work can she do, Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
What work can she do, charming Billy?
“She can brew and she can bake,
She can make a wedding cake—
She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”

Can she make a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
Can she make a cherry pie, charming Billy?
“She can make a cherry pie
Quick’s cat can wink her eye—
She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”

How old is she, Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
How old is she, charming Billy?
“She is three times six, four times seven,
Twenty-eight and eleven—
She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”

[Pg 41]

THREE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM

Three wise men of Gotham
Went to sea in a bowl,
And if the bowl had been stronger
My song had been longer.

LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER

“Little Tommy Tucker,
Sing for your supper.”
“What shall I sing?”
“White bread and butter.”
“How shall I cut it
Without any knife?
How shall I marry
Without any wife?”

PUSSY AND THE MICE

Nine little mice sat down to spin;
Pussy passed by, and she peeped in.
“What are you at, my little men?”
“Making coats for gentlemen.”
“Shall I come in and bite off your threads?”
“No, no, Miss Pussy, you’ll snip off our heads.”

WHEN I WAS A LITTLE BOY

When I was a little boy, I lived by myself,
And all the bread and cheese I got I put upon a shelf;
The rats and the mice, they made such a strife,
I was forced to go to London to buy me a wife.
The streets were so broad, and the lanes were so narrow,
I was forced to bring my wife home in a wheelbarrow;
The wheelbarrow broke, and my wife had a fall,
And down came the wheelbarrow, wife, and all.

[Pg 42]

CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES

BY PROF ISAAC TAYLOR HEADLAND

LITTLE FAT BOY

What a bonny little fellow is this fat boy of mine!
He makes people die of joy!
What a fine little fellow is this fat boy of mine!
Now whose is this loving little boy?

the little fat boy.

Do you want to buy a beauty?
Do you want to buy a beauty?
If you buy him he will watch your house,
And do it as his duty.

And no matter as to servants,
You may have them or may not,
But you’ll never need to lock your door,
Or give your house a thought.

“A Finger Test,” in chinese characters.

A FINGER TEST

You strike three times on the top, you see,
And strike three times on the bottom for me,
Then top and bottom you strike very fast,
And open a door in the middle at last.

[Pg 43]

OUR BABY

Mrs. Chang, Mrs. Lee,
Mama has a small babee;
Stands up firm,
Sits up straight,
Won’t eat milk,
But lives on cake.

our baby.

the little golden sister.

THE LITTLE GOLDEN SISTER

My little golden sister
Rides a golden horse slow,
And we’ll use a golden whip
If the horse doesn’t go.

A little gold fish
In a gold bowl we see,
And a gold-colored bird
On a gold-blossomed tree.

A gold-plated god
In a gold temple stands,
With a gold-plated baby
In his gold-plated hands.

TEN FINGERS

(A Chinese finger-play)

Three horses are drinking,
Three horses are feeding,
The two men are fighting,
The old woman pleading,
The baby is crying,
But no one is heeding.

“ten fingers,”
in chinese characters.

ten fingers.

[Pg 44]

A RIDDLE

A plum blossom foot,
And a pudding face sweet;
He’s taller when he’s sitting
Than when standing on his feet.

a riddle.

THE FIVE FINGERS

(Another finger-play)

A great big brother,
And a little brother so,
A big bell-tower,
And a temple and a show,
And little baby wee, wee,
Always wants to go.

the five fingers.

ladybug.

LADYBUG

Ladybug, ladybug,
Fly away, do;
Fly to the mountain,
And feed upon dew.

Feed upon dew,
And sleep on a rug,
And then run away
Like a good little bug.

“ladybug,” in chinese characters.

THE SPIDER

Oh, my dear brother spider,
With your body big and red,
From the eaves you are hanging
On a single little thread.

the spider.

“the great wall,”
in chinese characters.

THE GREAT WALL

The wily Emperor Tsin Chi-hwang
He built a wall both great and strong.
The steps were narrow, but the wall was stout,
So it kept the troublesome Tartars out.

[Pg 45]

BY ANNA MARION SMITH

“What did you say when you’d made your best bow?”
“I opened my mouth and remarked ‘miaow.’”
“What did the Queen say in answer to that?”
“She screamed a little, and then she said, ‘SCAT!’”

Little boy Blue, awake, awake,
And see how merry your charges make!
Through field and garden their course they steer,
And the mischief they’re doing,—oh dear, oh dear!

[Pg 46]

Hurry it, hurry it, baker’s man;
Bring it to us as quick as you can.
I hope it has raisins by way of surprise,
And little black currants that look just like eyes.

Here it comes, here it comes, baby mine.
Never was cake that was half so fine;
Brown as a berry, and hot from the pan,—
Thank you, oh thank you, you good baker’s man!

Hickory, dickory, dock,
Again he tried the clock,
This time,—don’t frown,—
The clock ran down!
Hickory, dickory, dock.

[Pg 47]

How shall I go to Babylon?
Who will tell me true?
Oh, there are trains, and there are boats,
And automobiles too.

And one may ride a bicycle,
Or go in a balloon;
Or one may travel on his feet
And get there ’most as soon.

For trains go off the track, you see,
And boats go down below;
And automobiles go to smash
In ways that none may know.

And tires of bicycles go pop,
Balloons will go and balk,
So taking all in all, I think
If I were you, I’d walk.

Hear, hear, they’re drawing near!
Just hark to the tramp of feet!
So haste about, set tables out,
And get them food to eat.

Run, run, the turkey’s done!
I hope it is nicely dressed,
For those who shirk and will not work
Are sure to want the best.

[Pg 48]

There Was an Old Woman

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
She whipped them all soundly, and put them to bed.
from a drawing by p. vinton brown

[Pg 49]

Now it happened that Santa Claus,
Passing that way,
Peeped into the shoe top
And saw how they lay—
With their round, rosy faces
All shining with tears,
And resolved to do something
To comfort the dears.

So while they were sleeping
In woful array,
He bundled those children
Right into his sleigh;
And cracking his whip
As his reindeers sped forth,
Away they all flew
To his home in the North.

[Pg 50]

When they told of their travels,
Their mother, it seems,
Only laughed, and declared
They were nothing but dreams.
I am sure, though, things must
Have occurred as they say,
Else why were they, all of them,
Ill the next day?

[Pg 51]

Humpty Dumpty

[Pg 52]

I
There he lay, stretched out on the ground,
While all the company gathered around;
When, valiantly stifling his tears and his groans,
He sadly addressed them in quavering tones.

II
“Friends,” said Humpty, wiping his eyes,
“This sudden descent was an awful surprise.
It inclines me to think,—you may laugh at my views,—
That a seat that is humble is safest to choose.

[Pg 53]

III
“All are not fitted to sit on a wall,
Some have no balance, and some are too small;
Many have tried it and found, as I guess,
They’ve ended, like me, in a terrible mess.

IV
“Hark, you horses, and all you king’s men!
Hear it, and never forget it again!
’Tis those who are patient in seats that are low,
Who some day get up in high places and crow.”

V
Then they took him and put him to bed.
I hope you’ll remember the things that he said;
For all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Never once thought of his sermon again.

[Pg 54]

This noble queen, with mind serene,
Then made a mammoth cake.
The naughty knave for cake did crave,
And off with it did make.
The haughty king, for punishing,
Would have him eat it all,
Which made the knave—unhappy slave—
Too sick to speak or crawl.

Since then, at ease, their majesties
Eat pastries every day.
The knave affirms his stomach squirms,
And looks the other way.
Alas, alas, to such a pass
Doth gluttony invite!
’Tis very sad to be so bad,
And lose one’s appetite.

Next day the queen, with lofty mien,
Prepared some lovely pies.
The feeble knave side-glances gave
At them with longing eyes.
The cruel king, with mocking fling,
Said: “Do, now, have some pie!”
The qualmish knave, no longer brave,
Could only groan, “Not I.”

This morning as I wandered
To enjoy the charming weather,
I met a man in goggles and a modern suit of leather.
He began to toot a horn and I began to run,
He knocked me flat nor cared for that;
And down the road he spun.

[Pg 55]

I
OOD Queen Kate was his royal mate,
And a right royal mate was she:
She would frequently state that carousing till late
Was something that never should be.
But every fiddler had such a fine fiddle,—
Oh, such a fine fiddle had he,—
That old King Cole, in his inmost soul,
Was as restive as he could be.

II
HEN thus spoke she to his majesty,
He planted his crown on tight.
“We will wait,” whispered he to the fiddlers three,
“Till the Queen has retired for the night.”
Every fiddler then tuned up his fiddle,
And tuned it as true as could be:
While old King Cole got his pipe and bowl
And replenished them secretly.

III
O gay they grew as the night hours flew,
He forgot how the time sped away;
Till swift overhead he heard the Queen’s tread
As she sprang out of bed, when he hurriedly said
They might finish the tune the next day.
Every fiddler he had a fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he:
Oh, ’t was not fair such a concert rare
Should be ended so suddenly!

[Pg 56]

“Fy, pussy, what a lazy cat,
On such a pleasant day
To sit and drowse beside the fire
And sleep the hours away!
A self-respecting dog would think
Himself a sorry cur,
If he did nothing all day long
But fold his arms and purr!”

“Now, sir, you needn’t criticize
Because I sit and blink,
For while my eyes are shut, like this,
I think, and think, and think.
And when I purr, please understand
I work with all my might,
A-humming over songs I sing
When I go out at night.

“Excuse me. Now I’ll close my eyes,
And think a little more.
On busy days like this, I show
My visitors the door.
’T is only little dogs who judge
That one must idle be,
Unless one’s chasing round and round
Or barking up a tree.”

But never a word of plaint will be heard
From robin, no matter how tired and cold;

For well will he know that the winter
will go,
And the blossoms and greenness of
spring unfold.

And when the warm sun says winter
is done,
He’ll gladden us all with his cheery
song;
And never will fret if the season is wet,
Or wail that the winter was hard and long.

[Pg 57]

I bought a little carriage
And took him out to ride,
And yet with all my efforts
He wasn’t satisfied.
I never would have married,
Now this I do declare,—
If I’d supposed a husband
Was such an awful care.

This clever man then hastened on
And bought a pair of shears,
But when he tried to cut with them,
He snipped off both his ears.
And when he heard his ears were off,
(’T was told him o’er and o’er),
He seized the shears and snipped them back
As they had been before.

“Because,” said he, “wise men like me,
Who travel round about,
And keep their eyes, and use them well,
May find some people out.
And if they also use their ears,
And hark what hearsay brings,
They’re likewise pretty sure to hear
Some very funny things.”

See saw, steady and slow!
Other places there are, I know,
But they are not worth the trouble to go,
For Boston people have told me so.

[Pg 58]

Sing a song o’ sixpence
A pocket full of rye;
I know another blackbird
Baked in a pie.
The maid it was who baked it
With all her might and main,
Resolved there’d be one blackbird
That shouldn’t nip again.

I never will dress her again, that is sure.
Her scratches, you see, are not easy to cure.
And I find that it takes much more time than you’d guess,
To sew up the rents in my dolly’s best dress.

I’d give a good deal, if it wasn’t for that,
To see how she’d look in my dolly’s new hat.
But no, I’ll not try it, you never can tell;
And politeness is best till one’s scratches get well.

[Pg 59]

Jack Horner had three brothers,
Their names were Horner, too—
One was James, and one was George,
And the little one was Hugh.
And they always did exactly
What they saw Jackie do—
James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

So when Jack’s Christmas pie was made,
They made three others, too—
One for James, and one for George,
And a little one for Hugh.
And they sat up in corners,
As they’d seen Jackie do—
James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

I’m sure ’t was very lucky
(Does it not seem so to you?)
That the room had just four corners

For

For if Jackie had a corner,
There must be corners, too,
For James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

[Pg 60]

JINGLES

THERE WAS A MAN IN OUR TOWN

There was a man in our town,
And all he did each day
Was to skip and hop along the streets
And on a trumpet play.

————

A MOST WONDERFUL SIGHT

The most wonderful sight I ever did see
Was an owl on the branch of our old oak-tree;
His eyes were so large and his head was so small
That he seemed all eyes and no head at all.

[Pg 61]

SAILING

Afloat, afloat, in a golden boat!
Hoist the sail to the breeze!
Steer by a star to lands afar
That sleep in the southern seas,
And then come home to our teas!

[Pg 62]

[Pg 63]

MISERY IN COMPANY

The rain is falling,
The fire is out!
Jane has the toothache,
John has the gout!

[Pg 64]

COURT NEWS
By Lucy Fitch Perkins

The king and queen went out to-day,
A-riding on a load of hay.
The king fell off and lost his crown,
The queen fell, too, and tore her gown.

[Pg 65]

[Pg 66]

[Pg 67]

[Pg 68]

[Pg 69]

[Pg 70]

[Pg 71]

[Pg 72]

[Pg 73]

THE SLEEPY-TIME STORY[C]

BY GERTRUDE SMITH

One night Arabella and Araminta’s mamma was sewing, and their papa was reading his newspaper. And there was a fire in the grate—a warm, bright fire in the grate.

And Arabella sat on the rug before the fire, and Araminta sat on the rug before the fire.

And Arabella was playing with her little white kitty, and Araminta was playing with her little black kitty.

And Arabella’s little white kitty’s name was Annabel, and Araminta’s little black kitty’s name was Lillabel.

Arabella had a little red ball fastened to a long string, and Araminta had a little blue ball fastened to a long string. Arabella would roll her ball, and her little white kitty would run and jump for it. And Araminta would roll her ball, and her little black kitty would run and jump for it.

The kittens were so cunning and funny, and they were having such a splendid time.

Sometimes when Arabella’s kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Arabella would laugh until she tumbled right over on the floor.

And sometimes when Araminta’s kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Araminta would laugh until she would tumble right over on the floor.

Oh, they were having a splendid time.

But all at once their mamma looked up from her sewing, and said, “Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

And their papa looked up from his paper, and said, “Yes, good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

And Arabella said, “Oh, must we go to bed right now?”

And Araminta said, “Oh, must we go to bed right now?”

And their papa said, “Yes, indeed; yes, indeed. Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

Always, when it was bedtime, their papa and mamma would say, “Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta.”

And sometimes they were good, and sometimes they were bad; but they always ran away to bed.

And their dear mamma always went with them and tucked them in and kissed them, and then came away downstairs and left them. And sometimes they were good, and sometimes they were bad; but they always went to sleep.

[Pg 74]

But to-night their mamma said,

“Run and get your nighties, dears,
And get each a flannel gown,
And we’ll sit and rock you here,
Till you go to sleepy-town.”

And Arabella ran upstairs and got her nighty and her little flannel gown. And Araminta ran upstairs and got her nighty and her little flannel gown. And their mamma undressed Arabella, and their papa undressed Araminta.

Arabella’s little flannel gown was red, and Araminta’s little flannel gown was pink. When they had put them on over their nighties they were just as warm as toast.

Arabella’s kitty was playing with Araminta’s kitty on the rug before the fire. They were rolling and tumbling and chasing each other, and they looked so cunning and sweet.

And Arabella’s mamma took Arabella on her lap, and Araminta’s papa took Araminta on his lap.

Arabella said, “Oh, I want my kitty in my lap, mamma!”

And Araminta said, “Oh, I want my kitty in my lap, papa!”

So they jumped down and caught the kitties.

Their mamma rocked Arabella, and their papa rocked Araminta; and they sang to them,

“Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock,
Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock!”

And they sang it over, and over, and over.

“Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock,
Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock!”

And Arabella cuddled in her mamma’s arms, and hugged her little kitty close; and Araminta cuddled in her papa’s arms, and hugged her little kitty close.

And their mamma sang, and their papa sang;

“Now she goes to sleepy-town, sleepy-town, sleepy-town;
Cuddled in her little gown, here she goes to sleepy-town.”

And they sang it over, and over, and over.

“Now she goes to sleepy-town, sleepy-town, sleepy-town;
Cuddled in her little gown, here she goes to sleepy-town.”

[Pg 75]

And very soon Arabella could only just hear her mamma singing, and very soon Araminta could only just hear her papa singing, “Sleepy-town, sleepy-town.” And soon they couldn’t hear them at all. They were sound asleep!

And their mamma looked at their papa, and said, “Our precious little dears are both sound asleep.”

And their papa said, “Yes, our little pets have both reached sleepy-town.”

And Arabella’s mamma carried her upstairs and put her in her little bed, and Araminta’s papa carried her upstairs and put her in her little bed. And Arabella was hugging her white kitty up close in her arms and Araminta was hugging her black kitty up close in her arms. And the kitties were both sound asleep, too.

But Arabella’s kitty and Araminta’s kitty did not sleep with them all night—oh, no indeed! They had a nice little, warm little, soft little bed down in the basement, close to the furnace.

And their papa took the kitties out of their arms, and carried them down to their bed.

And Arabella slept, and slept, and slept, and slept, and slept. And Araminta slept, and slept, and slept, and slept, and slept.

And the little kitties in their soft little bed slept, and slept, too. All through the long, dark, beautiful night they slept.

And the sun came, and the morning came, and it was another day!

THE GO-SLEEP STORY[D]

BY EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD

“How can I go to bed,” said Penny, the flossy dog, “till I say good-night to Baby Ray? He gives me part of his bread and milk, and pats me with his little, soft hand. It is bedtime now for dogs and babies. I wonder if he is asleep?”

So he trotted along in his silky, white nightgown till he found Baby Ray on the porch in mamma’s arms.

And she was telling him the same little story that I am telling you:

The doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

[Pg 76]

“How can we go to bed,” said Snowdrop and Thistledown, the youngest children of Tabby, the cat, “till we have once more looked at Baby Ray? He lets us play with his blocks and ball, and laughs when we climb on the table. It is bedtime now for kitties and dogs and babies. Perhaps we shall find him asleep.” And this is what the kitties heard:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the three little Bunnies, “till we have seen Baby Ray?” Then away they went in their white, velvet nightgowns as softly as three flakes of snow. And they, too, when they got as far as the porch, heard Ray’s mamma telling the same little story:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Three pretty little bunnies, with a leap, leap, leap,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the four white Geese, “till we know that Baby Ray is all right? He loves to watch us sail on the duck-pond, and he brings us corn in his little blue apron. It is bedtime now for geese and rabbits and kitties and dogs and babies, and he really ought to be asleep.”

So they waddled away in their white, feather nightgowns, around by the porch, where they saw Baby Ray, and heard mamma tell the “Go-Sleep” story:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Three pretty little bunnies, with a leap, leap, leap,
Four geese from the duck-pond, deep, deep, deep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the five white Chicks, “till we have seen Baby Ray once more? He scatters crumbs for us and calls us. Now it is bedtime for chicks and geese and rabbits and kittens and dogs and babies, so little Ray must be asleep.”

Then they ran and fluttered in their downy, white nightgowns till they came to the porch, where little Ray was just closing his eyes, while mamma told the “Go-Sleep” story:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Three pretty little bunnies, with a leap, leap, leap,
Four geese from the duck-pond, deep, deep, deep,
Five downy little chicks, crying peep, peep, peep,
All saw that Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

[Pg 77]

the land of nod

[Pg 78]

THE GENTLE DARK[E]

BY W. GRAHAME ROBERTSON

So it is over, the long bright Day,
And little Maid Twilight, quiet and meek,
Comes stealing along in her creep-mouse way
Whispering low—for she may not speak—
“The Gentle Dark is coming to play
At a game of Hide and Seek.”

Some babies are cross when she whispers them this,
And some are afraid and begin to cry.
I never can think what they find amiss.
Afraid of the Dark! I wonder why.
The Gentle Dark that falls like a kiss
Down from the sleepy sky.

O Gentle Dark, we know you are kind
By the lingering touch of your cool soft hand;
As over our eyes the veil you bind
We shut them tight at word of command,
You are only playing at Hoodman-Blind,
A game that we understand.

The voice is tender (O little one, hark!),
The eyes are kindly under the hood,
Blow out the candle, leave not a spark,
Trusting your friend as a playmate should.
Hold up your arms to the Gentle Dark,
The Dark that is kind and good.

THE FERRY FOR SHADOWTOWN

Sway to and fro in the twilight gray;
This is the ferry for Shadowtown;
It always sails at the end of the day,
Just as the darkness closes down.

Rest little head, on my shoulder, so;
A sleepy kiss is the only fare,
Drifting away from the world, we go,
Baby and I in the rocking-chair.

See where the fire-logs glow and spark,
Glitter the lights of the shadowland,
The raining drops on the window, hark!
Are ripples lapping upon its strand.

There, where the mirror is glancing dim,
A lake lies shimmering, cool and still.
Blossoms are waving above its brim,
Those over there on the window-sill.

Rock slow, more slow in the dusky light,
Silently lower the anchor down;
Dear little passenger, say “Good-night.”
We’ve reached the harbor of Shadowtown.

HUSH-A-BYE, BABY

Hush-a-bye, baby, in the tree top:
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, cradle, and all.

THE KITTEN AND THE FALLING LEAVES

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves—one—two—and three—
From the lofty elder tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly: one might think
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or fairy hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute,
In his wavering parachute.
But the kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws and darts!
First at one and then its fellow,
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now—now one—
Now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap, halfway,
Now she meets the coming prey;
Lets it go as fast and then
Has it in her power again.
Now she works with three or four,
Like an Indian conjuror;
Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart.

[Pg 79]

From “The Book of the Little Past,” by Josephine Preston Peabody;
used by permission of the publishers, Houghton Mifflin Co.

[Pg 80]

A BLESSING FOR THE BLESSED

BY LAURENCE ALMA-TADEMA

When the sun has left the hilltop,
And the daisy-fringe is furled,
When the birds from wood and meadow
In their hidden nests are curled,
Then I think of all the babies
That are sleeping in the world.

There are babies in the high lands
And babies in the low,
There are pale ones wrapped in furry skins
On the margin of the snow,
And brown ones naked in the isles
Where all the spices grow.

And some are in the palace,
On a white and downy bed;
And some are in the garret,
With a clout beneath their head;
And some are on the cold, hard earth,
Whose mothers have no bread.

O little men and women,
Dear flowers yet unblown—
O little kings and beggars
Of the pageant yet unshown—
Sleep soft and dream pale dreams now,
To-morrow is your own.

MY DOLLY

Hush, Dolly, bye, Dolly, sleep, Dolly, dear,
See what a bed, Dolly, I’ve for you here;
Therefore, to sleep, Dolly! don’t fret and cry;
Lay down your head, Dolly, shut up your eye.

When the bright morn, Dolly, once more has come,
Up gets the sun, and goes forth to roam;
Then shall my dear Dolly soon get up, too;
Then shall be playtime for me and for you.

Now go to sleep, Dolly, good night to you;
You must to bed, Dolly—I’m going too;
Just go to sleep without trouble or pain,
And in the morning I’ll come back again.

THE CHILD AND THE WORLD

I see a nest in a green elm-tree
With little brown sparrows—one, two, three!
The elm-tree stretches its branches wide,
And the nest is soft and warm inside.
At morn the sun, so golden bright,
Climbs up to fill the world with light;
It opens the flowers, it wakens me,
And wakens the birdies—one, two, three.
And leaning out of my window high,
I look far up at the blue, blue sky,
And then far out at the earth so green,
And think it the loveliest ever seen—
The loveliest world that ever was seen!

EVENING SONG

BY C. FRANCES ALEXANDER

Little birds sleep sweetly
In their soft round nests,
Crouching in the cover
Of their mother’s breasts.
Little lambs lie quiet,
All the summer night,
With their old ewe mothers,
Warm, and soft, and white.

But more sweet and quiet
Lie our little heads,
With our own dear mothers
Sitting by our beds;
And their soft sweet voices
Sing our hush-a-byes,
While the room grows darker,
As we shut our eyes.

And we play at evening
Round our father’s knees;
Birds are not so merry,
Singing on the trees,
Lambs are not so happy,
’Mid the meadow flowers;
They have play and pleasure,
But not love like ours.

ROCK-A-BYE, BABY

Rock-a-bye, baby, your cradle is green,
Father’s a nobleman, mother’s a queen,
And Betty’s a lady, and wears a gold ring,
And Johnny’s a drummer, and drums for the King.

[Pg 81]

THE SANDMAN

BY MARGARET VANDERGRIFT

The rosy clouds float overhead
The sun is going down,
And now the Sandman’s gentle tread
Comes stealing through the town.
“White sand, white sand,” he softly cries,
And as he shakes his hand,
Straightway there lies on babies’ eyes
His gift of shining sand.
Blue eyes, black eyes, gray eyes and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close,
when he goes through the town.

From sunny beaches far away—
Yes, in another land—
He gathers up at break of day
His store of shining sand.
No tempests beat that shore remote,
No ships may sail that way,
His little boat alone may float
Within that lovely bay.
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close,
when he goes through the town.

He smiles to see the eyelids close
Above the happy eyes;
And every child right well he knows—
Oh, he is very wise!
But if, as he goes through the land,
A naughty baby cries,
His other hand takes dull gray sand
To close the wakeful eyes.
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close,
when he goes through the town.

So when you hear the Sandman’s song
Sound through the twilight sweet,
Be sure you do not keep him long
A-waiting on the street.
Lie softly down, dear little head,
Rest quiet, busy hands,
Till, by your bed his good-night said,
He strews the shining sands.
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close,
when he goes through the town.

THE FAIRY FOLK

BY ROBERT BIRD

Come cuddle close in daddy’s coat
Beside the fire so bright,
And hear about the fairy folk
That wander in the night.
For when the stars are shining clear
And all the world is still,
They float across the silver moon
From hill to cloudy hill.

Their caps of red, their cloaks of green,
Are hung with silver bells,
And when they’re shaken with the wind
Their merry ringing swells,
And riding on the crimson moth,
With black spots on his wings,
They guide them down the purple sky
With golden bridle rings.

They love to visit girls and boys,
To see how sweet they sleep,
To stand beside their cozy cots
And at their faces peep.
For in the whole of fairy-land
They have no finer sight
Than little children sleeping sound
With faces rosy bright.

On tiptoe crowding round their heads,
When bright the moonlight beams,
They whisper little tender words
That fill their minds with dreams;
And when they see a sunny smile,
With lightest finger tips
They lay a hundred kisses sweet
Upon the ruddy lips.

And then the little spotted moths
Spread out their crimson wings,
And bear away the fairy crowd
With shaking bridle rings.
Come bairnies, hide in daddy’s coat,
Beside the fire so bright—
Perhaps the little fairy folk
Will visit you to-night.

[Pg 82]

QUEEN MAB

BY THOMAS HOOD

A little fairy comes at night;
Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown,
With silver spots upon her wings,
And from the moon she flutters down.

She has a little silver wand,
And when a good child goes to bed,
She waves her wand from right to left,
And makes a circle round its head.

And then it dreams of pleasant things—
Of fountains filled with fairy fish,
And trees that bear delicious fruit.
And bow their branches at a wish.

Of arbors filled with dainty scents
From lovely flowers that never fade,
Bright flies that glitter in the sun,
And glow-worms shining in the shade.

And talking birds with gifted tongues
For singing songs and telling tales,
And pretty dwarfs to show the way
Through fairy hills and fairy dales.

But when a bad child goes to bed,
From left to right she weaves her rings,
And then it dreams all through the night
Of only ugly, horrid things!

Then lions come with glaring eyes,
And tigers growl, a dreadful noise,
And ogres draw their cruel knives,
To shed the blood of girls and boys.

Then stormy waves rush on to drown,
Or raging flames come scorching round,
Fierce dragons hover in the air,
And serpents crawl along the ground.

Then wicked children wake and weep,
And wish the long black gloom away;
But good ones love the dark, and find
The night as pleasant as the day.

LULLABY

BY GERTRUDE THOMPSON MILLER

Come lay your head on my breast, my dear,
That I may feel your sweet form near;
Then we’ll rock, rock, in the rocking chair,
And play we’re sailing up through the air.

Your body so warm, so close, and so round,
A more precious bundle ne’er was found;
Just nestle your head right here on my arm,
And Mother will keep you safe from all harm.

Now, we rock, rock, and away we go,
Over the houses and trees, just so,
Like the birds, we’ll fly to a sunny land,
And there we’ll join the fairies’ band.

We’ll take them to ride; we’ll sail for home,
For Father is there, and he’s all alone;
Then we’ll alight on the nursery bed,
Fairies for company in Mother’s stead.

KENTUCKY BABE[F]

BY RICHARD HENRY BUCK

Skeeters am a hummin’ on de honeysuckle vine,
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
San’man am a comin’ to dis little coon of mine,—
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Silv’ry moon am shinin’ in de heabens up above,
Bobolink am pinin’ fo’ his little lady love:
Yo’ is mighty lucky, babe of old Kentucky,—
Close yo’ eyes in sleep.

Fly away, Kentucky Babe, fly away to rest,
Lay yo’ kinky, woolly head on yo’ mammy’s breast,—
Um-um-um-um,—
Close yo’ eyes in sleep.

Daddy’s in de canebrake wid his little dog and gun,—
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Possum fo’ yo’ breakfast when yo’ sleepin’ time is done,—
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Bogie man’ll catch yo’ sure unless yo’ close yo’ eyes,
Waitin’ jes outside de doo’ to take yo’ by surprise!
Close yo’ eyes in sleep.

[Pg 83]

MY POSSESSIONS

I’m a rich man,
If ever there was one:
I’ve a horse and an apple,
And both are my own.

But some others might wish
Such fine presents to keep;
So I’ll take them to bed,
To hold while asleep.

And when in the morning
I wake up once more,
I’ve my toy and my apple,
To me a rich store.

THE WAKE-UP STORY[G]

BY EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD

The sun was up and the breeze was blowing, and the five chicks, and four geese, and three rabbits, and two kitties, and one little dog were just as noisy and lively as they knew how to be.

They were all watching for Baby Ray to appear at the window, but he was still fast asleep in his little white bed, while mamma was making ready the things he would need when he would wake up.

First, she went along the orchard path as far as the old wooden pump, and said: “Good pump, will you give me some nice, clear water for the baby’s bath?”

And the pump was willing.

The good old pump by the orchard path
Gave nice, clear water for the baby’s bath.

Then she went a little further on the path, and stopped at the woodpile, and said: “Good chips, the pump has given me nice, clear water for dear Baby Ray; will you come and warm the water and cook his food?”

And the chips were willing.

The good old pump by the orchard path
Gave nice clear water for the baby’s bath.
And the clean white chips from the pile of wood
Were glad to warm it and cook his food.

So mamma went on till she came to the barn, and then said: “Good cow, the pump has given me nice, clear water, and the woodpile has given me clean, white chips for dear little Ray; will you give me warm, rich milk?”

And the cow was willing.

[Pg 84]

Then she said to the top-knot hen that was scratching in the straw: “Good Biddy, the pump has given me nice, clear water, and the woodpile has given me clean, white chips, and the cow has given me warm, rich milk for dear little Ray; will you give me a new-laid egg?”

And the hen was willing.

The good old pump by the orchard path
Gave nice, clear water for the baby’s bath.
The clean, white chips from the pile of wood
Were glad to warm it and cook his food.
The cow gave milk in the milk-pail bright,
And the top-knot Biddy an egg new and white.

Then mamma went on till she came to the orchard, and said to a Red June apple tree: “Good tree, the pump has given me nice, clear water, and the woodpile has given me clean, white chips, and the cow has given me warm, rich milk, and the hen has given me a new-laid egg for dear little Ray; will you give me a pretty, red apple?”

And the tree was willing.

So mamma took the apple and the egg and the milk and the chips and the water to the house, and there was Baby Ray in his nightgown looking out of the window.

And she kissed him and bathed him and dressed him, and while she brushed and curled his soft, brown hair, she told him the Wake-Up Story that I am telling you.

The good old pump by the orchard path
Gave nice, clear water for the baby’s bath.
The clean, white chips from the pile of wood
Were glad to warm it and cook his food.
The cow gave milk in the milk-pail bright;
The top-knot Biddy an egg new and white;
And the tree gave an apple so round and so red,
For dear little Ray who was just out of bed.

[Pg 85]

[Pg 86]

ABOUT SIX LITTLE CHICKENS

BY S. L. ELLIOTT

“a little girl came out with some corn-meal in a dish.”

A Mother Biddy sat on her nest, with what do you think in the nest? Six smooth white eggs! After she had sat there quite a long time till she was very tired, what do you suppose happened to one of those eggs? There was a noise that went “snick, snick,” and out of the shell stepped something like a little fuzzy ball, but with two bright eyes, and two bits of feet to walk on. What do you think it was? A little chicken? Yes, and Mother Biddy was so glad to see it, and she called it “Fluffy.” And Fluffy said “Peep, peep! I have some brothers and sisters in the shells; if you call them, I think they will come.” So Mother Biddy said “Cluck, cluck!” and something said: “Peep, peep!” and out came another chicken, as black as it could be, so Mother Biddy called it “Topsy.” [Pg 87] “Are there any more?” said Mother Biddy. “Yes. Peep, peep! We’re coming; wait for us,” and there came four more little chickens as fast as they could run. One was as white as snow, and Mother Biddy called it “Snowball.” The next was yellow and white, and she named it “Daisy.” Then there was a yellow one with a brown ring around its neck, and that was called “Brownie.” And what do you think! one was all black, only it had a little white spot on the top of its head that looked like a cap, so Mother Biddy called it “Spottie.” Now they were all out of their shells, and they said: “Peep, peep! We’re hungry.” So Mother Biddy said: “Cluck, cluck! Come see my babies,” and out of the house, close by, came a little girl with some corn-meal in a dish, and my! wasn’t she glad to see the chickens?

After they had eaten all they wanted, they thought they would take a walk and see this queer world they had come to live in.

Pretty soon they came to a brook, and they all stood in a row and looked in. “Let us have a drink,” they said, so they put their heads down, when—

“Peep, peep!” said Spottie. “I see a little chicken with a spot on its head.”

“No, no,” said Brownie; “it has a ring around its neck, and looks like me.”

“Peep, peep!” said Daisy. “I think it’s like me, for it is yellow and white.” And I don’t know but they would all have tumbled in to see if they hadn’t felt something drop right on the ends of their noses. “What’s that?” said Fluffy.

“Cluck, cluck!” said Mother Biddy. “Every chicken of you come in, for it is going to rain, and you’ll get your feathers wet.”

So they ran as fast as they could, and in a few minutes the six little chickens were all cuddled under Mother Biddy’s wing, fast asleep.

[Pg 88]

“TRADE-LAST”
By Lucy Fitch Perkins

“My frock is green.”
“My frock is blue.”
“You look pretty.”
“So do you.”

[Pg 89]

PHILIP’S HORSE

philip in his
“rough-rider” suit.

Little Philip was very fond of horses, and as he was too old to sit on a chair or box or trunk and make believe a rocking-horse was pulling it along his bedroom floor, his father bought him a horse all spotted brown and white, with a beautiful white mane; and Philip loved to get up on his back.

In winter he would go out in his sleigh, even when the snow was deep. It was jolly fun to be in the sleigh all wrapped up cozy and warm in furry robes. He would crack his long whip and make it sound almost as loud as a fire-cracker. He used to carry a make-believe pistol when he dressed up in his “Rough-Rider” suit and went horseback-riding. But all the neighbors thought it was funny that Philip would always leave the saddle on his horse when he went out in his sleigh. But you won’t think it is funny when I tell you a secret—maybe you have guessed it already—Philip couldn’t get the saddle off, because, don’t you see, his horse was only a make-believe, hobby-horse.

philip in his sleigh.

[Pg 90]

The Kitten That Forgot How to Mew

By Stella George Stern

All little girls, and little boys too, like to read stories about kittens. Here is a story about a dear little kitten that belonged to a dear little girl named Peggy.

Peggy had two brothers, and three cousins—all boys—and every boy had a little dog. At first the dogs would tease the kitten, but they soon learned better. The dogs and the kitten played together. All day long, out in the yard, you could hear them going, “Bow-wow!” and “Mew!”

[Pg 91]

But, you see, there was only one little “Mew” and ever so many “Bow-wows,” and after a while the kitten hardly ever spoke at all.

But one day the kitten wanted to mew, and—what do you suppose?—she had forgotten how to do it! She tried and tried, and all she could say was “M-m-m-bow!”—just as much like a dog as a kitten. She was so sad. She ran out into the yard and cried.

The Big White Hen passed by and asked what was the matter.

“Oh, Big White Hen,” sobbed the kitten, “I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, and all I can say is, M-m-m-bow!”

“Never mind, Kitty Cat,” said the Hen; “I will teach you to talk. Listen to this: M-m-m-cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-ca-da-cut!”

“No,” said the kitten; “that’s not the way to talk kitten-talk.” And she cried again.

Then along came the Sheep and asked, “What is the matter?”

“Oh, Sheep,” sobbed the kitten, “I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, and all I can say is, M-m-m-bow!”

“Never mind, Kitty Cat,” said the Sheep; “I will teach you to talk. Listen: M-m-m-baa!”

“No,” said the kitten, “that’s not the way to talk kitten-talk.” And she cried again.

Then along came the Horse and asked what was the matter.

“Oh, Horse,” sobbed the kitten, “I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, and all I can say is, M-m-m-bow!”

“Never mind, Kitty Cat,” said the Horse; “I will teach you to talk. Listen to this: M-m-m-neigh!”

“No,” said the kitten; “that’s not the way to talk kitten-talk.” And she cried again.

Then along came the Cow and asked what was the matter.

“Oh, Cow,” sobbed the kitten, “I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, as hard as I ever can, and all I can say is, M-m-m-bow!”

[Pg 92]

“Never mind, Kitty Cat,” said the Cow; “I will teach you to talk. Listen to this: M-m-m-moo!”

“No,” said the kitten; “that is more like it, but that’s not the way to talk kitten-talk.” And she cried again.

The New Baby was sitting in her high chair at the kitchen door.

“Baby dear,” sighed the kitten, “I am in trouble. I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, and all I can say is, M-m-m-bow! Can’t you teach me?”

The Baby nodded her head and began, “M-m-m-google-google-goo!”

“No,” said the kitten; “that’s not the way to talk kitten-talk.” And she sat on the kitchen step and cried again.

“What is the matter?” asked a soft voice behind her.

“Oh!” sobbed the kitten, without looking up, “I have forgotten how to talk kitten-talk. I try and I try, and nothing can help me. All I can say is, M-m-m-bow!”

“Look at me,” said the soft voice.

The little kitten looked. And there stood a beautiful big gray cat!

“I can teach you to talk,” said the Cat. And she did. She taught her so well that the little kitten never again forgot how to mew, though she played out on the soft, green grass with the dogs every day.

[Pg 93]

[Pg 94]

[Pg 95]

[Pg 96]

[Pg 97]

FLEDGLINGS
By Lucy Fitch Perkins

I saw a stork on a chimney high,
And called to him as I passed by,
“O stork! what’ll you bring,
Tucked away carefully under your wing?
A baby sister and a brother,
One for me, and one for mother.”

[Pg 98]

“TIME TO GET UP!”

BY ELLEN FOSTER

Little Elinor Gray lived in a big city, but her grandmother lived in a big house in the country. Elinor and her Nurse Norah were going to visit her, and had to take a long ride in the railway-train, and another ride in a carriage that Grandmother sent to meet them, so it was almost dark when they drove up to the door.

Elinor’s grandmother had two beautiful dogs—“Bruno,” a big collie, and “Bounder,” a little fox-terrier. And when they saw the little girl jump out of the carriage, they barked and barked because they were so glad to see her. And they said to themselves (I think they said to themselves): “We will let her have a good sleep to-night, for she must be very tired and it is nearly dark. But to-morrow, bright and early, we will ask her to come for a romp with us in the garden, and show her how much nicer it is to live in the country than in the city, where little girls have to walk so quietly along the streets, and dogs have to be led along the sidewalk, and cannot frolic on the soft green grass.”

Elinor was very sleepy after her long ride in the train, and so, after she had had her supper, her grandmother told her she might go to bed early and get a good sleep, and that Nurse Norah would call her at seven o’clock in the morning.

But what do you think happened? Why, Bruno and Bounder somehow got into the house before seven o’clock that morning, and came leaping up the stairs, and went straight to Elinor’s door. Elinor was a very sound sleeper, and did not hear them at first, and did not wake up. But soon Bounder began to scratch at the door with his little, sharp claws and to make queer little whine-y sounds; and Bruno’s bushy tail went “Rap! rap! rap!” on the door, too. Then Elinor woke up, and listened a moment, and then she said: “Oh, I know what it is! It’s those darling dogs!” And she jumped out of bed and opened the door, and there, sure enough, was Bounder, dashing right into the room, barking, “Good morning! good morning!” and big Bruno, looking at Elinor as if saying, “Good morning! didn’t you hear us? It’s time to get up!”

Elinor said: “Oh, you beauties! Yes, I know! And I’ll get dressed right away!”

But what do you think happened then! Why, Bruno and Bounder didn’t give her time even to call Nurse Norah and get dressed. You see, Bruno and Bounder did not often have so nice a little visitor, and they were ready to begin play that very minute. Bounder was jumping up and down and all over the room, and at last he spied Elinor’s slippers on the floor and caught up one of them between his sharp little teeth and ran round and round the room with it. But Bruno chased Bounder all round the room trying to make him drop the slipper, while Elinor stood still and laughed and laughed and laughed!

But just then Nurse Norah came rushing in from the next room, asking what was the matter and in a minute, the naughty Bounder was made to give up Elinor’s slipper, and Bruno chased him all the way out of the house.

And just as soon as Elinor had had her breakfast, she ran out and had a fine romp with Bruno and Bounder in Grandmother’s garden.

[Pg 99]

“time to get up!”

[Pg 100]

(For Very Little Folk)

and Mrs. Squeaky were two little, gray mice. They lived away back in the corner of a great, big, empty box in the cellar.

One morning Mr. Squeaky went up the cellar stairs on tiptoes, to hunt for some bread and cheese in the kitchen.

All at once he heard some one talking, and he hid behind the broom and was as still as he could be.

It was the little boy Johnnie, who lived up-stairs. He had a big hammer and a saw in his hand, and he was talking to his little sister.

“I think that big, empty box down cellar would make a fine dolls’ house, Maggie. I can fix a little porch on it, and make an up-stairs and a down-stairs,” the little boy said.

“Oh, Johnnie, that will be lovely,” his little sister said. “I’ll do something for you sometime. Maybe—maybe—I’ll draw a whole slate full of el’phants, for you to look at!”

Then they started down the cellar steps.

Mr. Squeaky was so frightened that he almost tumbled down the stairs.

“Oh, my dear,” he whispered, “they are going to break up our house with a big hammer and a saw, and make a dolls’ house out of it! Let’s run as fast as we can!”

Poor little Mrs. Squeaky began to cry.

“Where shall we go?” she whispered. “Oh, I am so afraid, and there are always those dreadful traps around to catch us!”

[Pg 101]

But they ran as fast as they could to the darkest corner. Mrs. Squeaky’s sharp little eyes saw a hole, and she ran into it, and Mr. Squeaky squeezed in after her.

Now where do you think they found themselves? Right inside of an old shoe! The hole that they came through was just a hole in the shoe and made a nice little door. And there was another hole a little higher up that made a nice little window to peep out of.

“Why, this is the dearest little house, so cozy and warm,” Mrs. Squeaky said. “Nobody will ever find us in here, I know.”

After they lived there a while, a whole family of little pink baby mice came to live with them. The papa mouse and the mama mouse were so proud and so glad, they got little bits of cotton and soft paper and rags, and made the nicest little beds you ever saw.

The little pink baby mice could only say, “Squeak! Squeak!” and cuddle up under the warm covers, but Mr. and Mrs. Squeaky laughed, and thought they were the smartest babies in the whole world.

“Why, I feel like ‘The Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe and had so many children she didn’t know what to do,’” Mrs. Squeaky said one day. She was sitting by the little window rocking the baby mouse and taking a little rest.

Mr. Squeaky had gone out to hunt for some supper, and the four other little mice were peeping out of the little hole in the toe of their shoe house, for Papa to come home.

All at once, Maggie, the little girl who lived up-stairs, ran into the dark corner to hide from Johnnie, just for fun. And what do you think she saw?

The four little mice peeping out of the door, and the poor, frightened mama mouse and the little baby at the window.

Maggie stopped just a minute to whisper gently to little, gray Mrs. Squeaky, “Don’t be frightened, ‘Little Old Woman Who Lives in the Shoe.’ I’ll never, never tell anybody where you live. No, I won’t even tell Johnnie or my kitty. They might try to catch you. It shall be my very own secret—and yours!”

So nobody but little Maggie ever knew about Mr. and Mrs. Squeaky, and their little pink babies in the old shoe—until long afterward, when she told me the story, as I have told it to you.

[Pg 102]

“‘trot as fast as you can to market and get me a pail of milk.’”

THE GOOD LITTLE PIGGIE AND HIS FRIENDS

BY L. WALDO LOCKLING

Once there was a little piggie, a very good little piggie, who obeyed his mother so well that often she let him out of the pen to play with his friends on the farm. One afternoon this little piggie was playing with them, when suddenly he heard his mother calling “Piggie, wiggie, wiggie, wiggie, wiggie!”

“Piggie, dear,” she said, as he ran to her, “take this and trot as fast as you can to market and get me a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night.”

“‘where are you off to, piggie?’ said bossie calf.”

So Piggie took the pail between his teeth, and off he went to do what his mother told him. Now, you must remember that this little piggie was such a dear, good little piggie, that he had a great many friends among the other animals. [Pg 103]So he had not gone far when who should spy him but his friend Bossie Calf. “Hello, there!” said the calf. “Where are you off to, Piggie?”

“I’m going to market to bring my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie.

“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” And the calf leaped over his master’s fence, and away he went scampering after Piggie.

By and by, who should come along but Piggie’s friend Billie Goat. “Mercy on us!” baa-ed Billie. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Bossie?”

“Going with Piggie,” said the calf.

“Where are you going, Piggie?”

“Going to market to bring my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie, in a great hurry.

“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” So Billie Goat ran out of the barn-yard and hurried after the calf.

Just as they were passing the house, who should spy them but Rover the dog.

“Where are you going, Billie,” barked Rover, running out to the gate as he saw them rushing along. “Going with Bossie,” said the goat.

“Where are you going, Bossie?” “Going with Piggie.”

“Where are you going, Piggie?”

“I am going to market to bring Mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie, in a great hurry.

“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” So Rover hurried along up the road after the goat.

Just as they turned into the road, who should come jumping along but Tabby the cat.

“Well, well!” he meowed. “When did the circus come to town, Rover?”

“This is not a circus parade,” said the dog, the goat, the calf, and Piggie all at once, as they ran on.

“Then, where are you going, Rover?” again meowed Tabby.

“Going with Billie,” barked Rover.

[Pg 104]

“‘my, that’s good!’”

“Where are you going, Billie?” “Going with Bossie.”

“Where are you going, Bossie?” “Going with Piggie.”

“Where are you going, Piggie?”

“I am going to market to get my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie in a great hurry.

“Are you? I believe I’ll go along. I am so fond of milk.” So Tabby raced along after Rover.

When they got to the market, Piggie told his friends to wait outside while he hurried in and got the milk for his father’s supper. It did not take him long, and he soon came trotting out because he was to hurry back home.

“Give me a sup for politeness’ sake,” meowed Tabby the cat, as she stuck her head in the pail. “My, that’s good!”

“Pass it to me, Tabby,” barked Rover the dog, “for politeness’ sake. My, that’s good!”

“Give me a sup for politeness’ sake,” said Billie Goat. “My, that’s good.”

“Do not forget me, Billie, for politeness’ sake,” said Bossie the calf. “My, that’s good!”

“away he trotted with an empty pail.”

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” squealed Piggie, when he saw what had happened. “What shall I do?” And away he trotted all by himself with an empty pail, to tell his mother that he did really and truly get the milk, but that his friends had “supped” it all up!

But just then the farmer came with a great, big pail of milk and gave it all to them, so that the good little piggie and his father and mother had a fine supper, and much more milk than Piggie could have brought.

[Pg 105]

BABY’S PARADISE
By Lucy Fitch Perkins

Over the hills and far away,
There’s a beautiful, wonderful place,
Where happy babies in gardens play,
With mothers dressed all in lace,—

Dressed all in lace and in silken gown,
With flowers in their hair,—
Where trees with blossoms are laden down,
And perfumes fill the air.

[Pg 106]

[Pg 107]

“who speaks first?”
from an engraving of the painting by arthur j. elsley.

[Pg 108]

Moo, moo!
What can I do
For my little girl of three?
I will eat the sweet grass,
I will give her a glass
Of my milk for her tea;
Moo, moo! that ’s what I’ll do
For my dear little maiden of three.

Mew, mew!
What can I do
For my little girl of three?
I will catch all the mice,
And they shall not come twice
To the cake, you’ll see;
Mew, mew! that’s what I’ll do
For my sweet little maiden of three.

Bow-wow!
I will go now
With my little girl of three;
I will make a great noise;
I will frighten the boys,
For they all fear me;
Bow-wow! that is just how
I’ll guard my sweet maiden of three.

Neigh, neigh!
Out of the way
For my little girl of three!
I will give her a ride,
We will canter and glide
O’er the meadowy lea;
Neigh, neigh! that’s just the way
I’ll help my sweet maiden of three.

[Pg 109]

A FUNNY FAMILY

[Pg 110]

LITTLE BY LITTLE.

When Charley awoke one morning, he looked from the window, and saw the ground deeply covered with snow.

On the side of the house nearest the kitchen, the snow was piled higher than Charley’s head.

“We must have a path through this snow,” said his father. “I would make one if I had time. But I must be at the office early this morning.

“Do you think you could make the path, my son?” he asked little Charley.

“I? Why, the snow is higher than my head! How could I ever cut a path through that snow?”

“How? Why, by doing it little by little. Suppose you try,” said the father, as he left for his office.

So Charley got the snowshovel and set to work. He threw up first one shovelful, and then another; but it was slow work.

“I don’t think I can do it, mother,” he said. “A shovelful is so little, and there is such a heap of snow.”

“Little by little, Charley,” said his mother. “That snow fell in tiny bits, flake by flake, but you see what a great pile it has made.”

“Yes, mother, I see,” said Charley. “If I throw it away little by little, it will soon be gone.”

So he worked on.

When his father came home to dinner, he was pleased to see the fine path. The next day he gave little Charley a fine blue sled, and on it was painted in yellow letters, “Little by Little.”

“safety first”

[Pg 111]

To Mother:

This is the kind of stories that the kindergartners call “cumulative,” or “repetitive.” They keep repeating and then adding to themselves until they are quite long. The repetition helps the children memorize them, and adding to them holds the children’s attention and interest.

You will find these very useful to read and teach to the little ones.

The Editors.

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

This is the house that Jack built.
This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

[Pg 112]

I
This is Giant
Thunder Bones.

II
This is the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

III
This is the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day
To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

[Pg 113]

IV

is the Princess of Wandeltreg
Who, while playing a game of Mumblepeg,
Was caught by the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day

To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

V

HIS is the Prince so brave and
so grand
Who sailed over sea and
rode over land

Till he found the Princess of Wandeltreg
Who, while playing a game of Mumblepeg,
Was caught by the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day
To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

[Pg 114]

VI

is the Goblin
with fingers so frail
Who hopped with ease
over mountain and dale
As he chased the Prince so brave and so grand
Who sailed over sea and rode over land
Till he found the Princess of Wandeltreg
Who, while playing a game of Mumblepeg,
Was caught by the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day
To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

VII

is the Witch with Broomstick and Cat
Who sputtered and snarled and
shook her tall hat
When she missed the Goblin with fingers so frail
Who hopped with ease over mountain and dale
As he chased the Prince so brave and so grand
Who sailed over sea and rode over land
Till he found the Princess of Wandeltreg
Who, while playing a game of Mumblepeg,
Was caught by the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day
To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.

[Pg 115]

VIII
last comes the Kobold who slept while ’twas light
And did all the housework in the dead of the night
To worry the Witch with Broomstick and Cat
Who sputtered and snarled and shook her tall hat
When she missed the Goblin with fingers so frail
Who hopped with ease over mountain and dale

As he chased the Prince so brave and so grand
Who sailed over sea and rode over land
Till he found the Princess of Wandeltreg
Who, while playing a game of Mumblepeg,
Was caught by the Gnome with beard so gray
Who digged for gems all night and day
To please the Dwarf with anxious looks
Who guarded the castle and kept the books
For Giant Thunder Bones.
Stella Doughty.

[Pg 116]

THE HOUSE THAT JILL BUILT

BY CAROLYN WELLS

This is the House that Jill built.

This is the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

[Pg 117]

This is the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Knight with the red cockade who rode on the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Lady in gay brocade who followed the Knight with the red cockade who rode on the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

[Pg 118]

This is the Glittering Cavalcade that rode after the Lady in gay brocade who followed the Knight with the red cockade who rode on the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the Donkey who loudly brayed at sight of the Glittering Cavalcade that rode after the Lady in gay brocade who followed the Knight with the red cockade who rode on the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

This is the King who was much dismayed to hear the Donkey who loudly brayed at sight of the Glittering Cavalcade that rode after the Lady in gay brocade who followed the Knight with the red cockade who rode on the Horse that pranced and neighed when he saw the Woodman sober and staid who slung the Ax with a shining blade that chopped the Tree of a dusky shade that gave the Wood that heated the Oven that baked the Cake that fed the Doll that lived in the House that Jill built.

[Pg 119]

THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG[H]

An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. “What,” said she, “shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig.”

As she was coming home, she came to a stile, but the piggy wouldn’t go over the stile.

She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to him: “Dog! dog! bite pig, piggy won’t go over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the dog wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said: “Stick! stick! beat dog! dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the stick wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said: “Fire! fire! burn stick, stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the fire wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said: “Water! water! quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile, and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the water wouldn’t.

[Pg 120]

She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said: “Ox! ox! drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the ox wouldn’t.

So she went a little further, and she met a butcher. So she said: “Butcher! butcher! kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick, stick won’t beat dog, dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the butcher wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said: “Rope! rope! hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile, and I shan’t get home to-night!” But the rope wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said: “Rat! rat! gnaw rope; rope won’t hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the rat wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said: “Cat! cat! kill rat; rat won’t gnaw rope; rope won’t hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick, stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the cat said to her: “If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a saucer of milk, I will kill the rat.” So away went the old woman to the cow.

But the cow said to her: “If you will go to yonder hay-stack, and fetch me a handful of hay, I’ll give you the milk.” So away went the old woman to the hay-stack; and she brought the hay to the cow.

As soon as the cow had eaten the hay she gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.

As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the rat; the rat began to gnaw the rope; the rope began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink the water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the stick; the stick began to beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig, the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile; and so the old woman got home that night.

[Pg 121]

THE LAMBIKIN[I]

Once upon a time there was a wee, wee Lambikin, who frolicked about on his little tottery legs, and enjoyed himself amazingly. Now one day he set off to visit his Granny, and was jumping with joy to think of all the good things he should get from her, when whom should he meet but a Jackal, who looked at the tender young morsel and said: “Lambikin! Lambikin! I’LL eat YOU!”

But Lambikin only gave a little frisk, and said:

“To Granny’s house I go,
Where I shall fatter grow,
Then you can eat me so.”

The Jackal thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass.

By and by he met a Vulture, and the Vulture, looking hungrily at the tender morsel before him, said: “Lambikin! Lambikin! I’LL eat YOU!”

But the Lambikin only gave a little frisk, and said:

“To Granny’s house I go,
Where I shall fatter grow,
Then you can eat me so.”

The Vulture thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass.

And by and by he met a Tiger, and then a Wolf, and a Dog, and an Eagle; and all these, when they saw the tender little morsel, said: “Lambikin! Lambikin! I’LL eat YOU!”

But to all of them Lambikin replied, with a little frisk:

“To Granny’s house I go,
Where I shall fatter grow,
Then you can eat me so.”

At last he reached his Granny’s house, and said, all in a great hurry, “Granny dear, I’ve promised to get very fat, so, as people ought to keep their promises, please put me into the corn-bin at once.”

So his Granny said he was a good boy, and put him into the corn-bin, and there the greedy little Lambikin stayed for seven days, and ate, and ate, and ate, until he could scarcely waddle, and his Granny said he was fat enough for anything, and must go home. But cunning little Lambikin said that would never do, for some animal would be sure to eat him on the way back, he was so plump and tender.

“I’ll tell you what you must do,” said Master Lambikin; “you must make a little drumikin out of the skin of my little brother who died, and then I can sit inside and trundle along nicely, for I’m as tight as a drum myself.”

[Pg 122]

So his Granny made a nice little drumikin out of his brother’s skin, with the wool inside, and Lambikin curled himself up snug and warm in the middle, and trundled away gayly. Soon he met with the Eagle, who called out:

“Drumikin! Drumikin!
Have you seen Lambikin?”

And Mr. Lambikin, curled up in his soft, warm nest, replied:

“Fallen into the fire, and so will you,
On little Drumikin! Tum-pa, tum-too!”

“How very annoying!” sighed the Eagle, thinking regretfully of the tender morsel he had let slip.

Meanwhile Lambikin trundled along, laughing to himself, and singing.

“Tum-pa, tum-too;
Tum-pa, tum-too!”

Every animal and bird he met asked him the same question:

“Drumikin! Drumikin!
Have you seen Lambikin?”

And to each of them the little slyboots replied:

“Fallen into the fire, and so will you,
On little Drumikin! Tum-pa, tum-too;
Tum-pa, tum-too; Tum-pa, tum-too!”

Then they all sighed to think of the tender little morsel they had let slip.

At last the Jackal came limping along, for all his sorry looks as sharp as a needle, and he, too, called out:

“Drumikin! Drumikin!
Have you seen Lambikin?”

And Lambikin, curled up in his snug little nest, replied gayly:

“Fallen into the fire, and so will you,
On little Drumikin! Tum-pa——”

But he never got any farther, for the Jackal recognized his voice at once, and cried “Hullo! you’ve turned yourself inside out, have you? Just you come out of that!”

Whereupon he tore open Drumikin and gobbled up Lambikin.

[Pg 123]

THE CAT AND THE MOUSE[J]

The cat and the mouse
Played in the malt-house:

The cat bit the mouse’s tail off. “Pray, puss, give me my tail.” “No,” says the cat, “I’ll not give you your tail, till you go to the cow, and fetch me some milk.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the cow, and thus began:

“Pray, Cow, give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.” “No,” said the cow, “I will give you no milk, till you go to the farmer, and get me some hay.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the farmer, and thus began:

“Pray, Farmer, give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.”[Pg 124] “No,” said the farmer, “I’ll give you no hay, till you go to the butcher and fetch me some meat.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the butcher, and thus began:

“Pray, Butcher, give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.” “No,” says the butcher, “I’ll give you no meat, till you go to the baker and fetch me some bread.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the baker, and thus began:

“Pray, Baker, give me bread, that I may give butcher bread, that butcher may give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.”

“Yes,” says the baker, “I’ll give you some bread,
But if you eat my meal, I’ll cut off your head.”

Then the baker gave mouse bread, and mouse gave butcher bread, and butcher gave mouse meat, and mouse gave farmer meat, and farmer gave mouse hay, and mouse gave cow hay, and cow gave mouse milk, and mouse gave cat milk, and cat gave mouse her own tail again.

HENNY-PENNY[K]

One day Henny-penny was picking up corn in the cornyard when—whack!—something hit her upon the head. “Goodness gracious me!” says Henny-penny; “the sky’s a-going to fall; I must go and tell the king.”

So she went along, and she went along, and she went along till she met Cocky-locky. “Where are you going, Henny-penny?” says Cocky-locky. “Oh! I’m going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling,” says Henny-penny. “May I come with you?” says Cocky-locky. “Certainly,” says Henny-penny. So Henny-penny and Cocky-locky went to tell the king the sky was falling.

They went along, and they went along, and they went along till they met Ducky-daddles. “Where are you going to, Henny-penny and Cocky-locky?” says Ducky-daddles. “Oh! we’re going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling,” says Henny-penny and Cocky-locky. “May I come with you?” says Ducky-daddles. “Certainly,” says Henny-penny and Cocky-locky. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

[Pg 125]

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along till they met Goosey-poosey. “Where are you going to, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles?” says Goosey-poosey. “Oh! we’re going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling,” says Henny-penny, and Cocky-locky and Ducky-daddles. “May I come with you?” says Goosey-poosey. “Certainly,” says Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along till they met Turkey-lurkey. “Where are you going, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey?” says Turkey-lurkey. “Oh! we’re going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling,” says Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey. “May I come with you, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey?” says Turkey-lurkey. “Oh, certainly, Turkey-lurkey,” says Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddies, and Goosey-poosey. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddies, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along till they met Foxy-woxy, and Foxy-woxy says to Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey: “Where are you going, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey?” And Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-lurkey says to Foxy-woxy: “We’re going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling.” “Oh! but this is not the way to the king, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey,” says Foxy-woxy; “I know the proper way; shall I show it you?” “Oh, certainly, Foxy-woxy,” says Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, Turkey-lurkey, and Foxy-woxy all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along till they came to a narrow and dark hole. Now this was the door of Foxy-woxy’s cave. But Foxy-woxy says to Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddies, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey: “This is the short way to the king’s palace; you’ll soon get there if you follow me. I will go first and you come after, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey,” “Why, of course, certainly, without doubt, why not?” says Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey.

So Foxy-woxy went into his cave, and he didn’t go very far, but turned round to wait for Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey. So at last Turkey-lurkey went through the dark hole into the cave. He hadn’t got far when “Hrumph!” Foxy-woxy snapped off [Pg 126] Turkey-lurkey’s head and threw his body over his left shoulder. Then Goosey-poosey went in, and “Hrumph!” off went her head and Goosey-poosey was thrown beside Turkey-lurkey. Then Ducky-daddles waddled down, and “Hrumph!” snapped Foxy-woxy, and Ducky-daddles’s head was off, and Ducky-daddles was thrown alongside Turkey-lurkey and Goosey-poosey. Then Cocky-locky strutted down into the cave, and he hadn’t gone far when “Snap, Hrumph!” went Foxy-woxy, and Cocky-locky was thrown alongside of Turkey-lurkey, Goosey-poosey, and Ducky-daddles.

“this is the short way”

But Foxy-woxy had made two bites at Cocky-locky, and when the first snap only hurt Cocky-locky, but didn’t kill him, he called out to Henny-penny. But she turned tail and off she ran home, so she never told the king the sky was a-falling.

[Pg 127]

THREE GOATS IN THE RYEFIELD

ADAPTED BY CECILIA FARWELL

Once upon a time there was a little boy whose task it was to drive the goats to and from the hills. One morning, as they went along the road, the first goat saw a hole in the fence which shut off a field of rye.

“Oh,” said the first goat, “here is a chance to get into that field. I do not think that we want to eat rye—there is plenty of grass on the hill. But we can go in and see what it is like, just the same.”

With that he turned aside from the road and went through the hole into the ryefield, and the others followed after him.

“Here,” cried the boy, “come out of that!”

But the goats did not come out, so the boy climbed over the fence and started after them to chase them out. But the goats just ran round and round in the field, until at last the little boy was so tired that he sat down by the fence and cried.

By-and-by a dog came down the road. “Why, little boy,” he said, “what are you crying for?”

“I am crying because the goats will not come out of the ryefield. I was driving them along the road to the hills and they went through the fence, and I have chased them and chased them, and they will not come out.”

“Well,” said the dog, “that is nothing to cry about. Just you wait here and I will go into the field and chase them out for you.”

So the dog ran through the hole and started after the goats, barking loudly. When the goats saw him coming they started to run, and ran round and round in the field until at last the dog was so tired that he sat down by the fence and cried.

By-and-by a fox came trotting down the road. “Why, dog,” he said, “what are you crying for?”

“I am crying because little boy is crying,” said the dog.

“And what are you crying for, little boy?” asked the fox.

“I am crying because the goats will not come out of the ryefield. I was driving them along the road to the hills and they went through the fence, and I have chased them and chased them and they will not come out.”

“Well,” said the fox, “that is nothing to cry about. Just you wait here and I will go into the field and chase them out for you.”

So the fox ran through the hole and started after the goats, barking shrilly. And when they saw him coming they started to run, and ran round [Pg 128] and round in the field until at last the fox was so tired that he sat down by the fence and cried.

By-and-by a bee came flying lightly overhead.

“Why, fox,” he said, “why are you crying?”

“I am crying because dog is crying,” said the fox.

“And why are you crying, dog?” asked the bee.

“I am crying because little boy is crying,” said the dog.

“And why are you crying, little boy?” asked the bee.

“I am crying because the goats will not come out of the ryefield. I was driving them along the road to the hills, and they went through the fence, and I have chased them and chased them and they will not come out!”

“Oh,” said the bee, “that is nothing to cry about. Just you wait here and I will go into the field and chase them out for you.”

So he flew over the fence and flew straight to the first goat and began to buzz in his ear. The first goat lifted up his head and said: “Ho! What is this?” and he looked all around him, but could see nothing from which to run.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!” said the bee, and he lighted on the ear of the goat.

“Now here is someone that means business,” said the goat, and he shook his head to shake off the bee, but the bee only clung the tighter.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!” he said. Then he stung the first goat in the ear. “Now,” said the first goat, “this is a serious matter. Ouch!” he added, as the bee stung him again. “Come on, you,” he called to the others, “it is time to get out of here!” With that he led them straight to the hole in the fence, and they ran through it, all three of them, and out into the road where the little boy sat with the dog and the fox.

“Oh,” said the dog, “the bee can do something that I cannot, even if he is so small.”

“Yes,” said the fox, “the bee didn’t make much noise, but the noise that he did make counted more than all of our barking.”

little bunnie brown is at the head of his class

[Pg 129]

TEENY TINY[L]

There was once upon a time a teeny-tiny woman who lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way, she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny meadow. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny meadow, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny stone, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self: “This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper.” So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house.

Now, when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house, she was a teeny-tiny bit tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said:

“give me my bone!”

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes, and went to sleep again. And when she had been asleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder:

“Give Me My Bone!”

This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been asleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder:

“GIVE ME MY BONE!”

At this the teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened; but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice:

“TAKE IT!”

[Pg 130]

SONG OF THE PEAR TREE

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree;
The fine pear tree has leaves, too.
What on the tree may be?
Why, there’s a beautiful branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree,
The fine pear tree has leaves, too,
And what on its branch may be?
A beautiful twig.
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree,
The fine pear tree has leaves, too.
Now what on the twig may be?
A beautiful nest.
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree;
The fine pear tree has leaves, too.
Now, what in the nest may be?
A beautiful egg.
Egg in the nest,
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree,
The fine pear tree has leaves, too.
Now, what from the egg shall we see?
A beautiful bird.
Bird from the egg,
Egg in the nest,
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green orchard
Standeth a fine pear tree;
The fine pear tree has leaves, too.
Now, what on the bird may be?
A beautiful feather.
Feather on the bird,
Bird from the egg,
Egg in the nest,
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

Out in the green, green meadow
Standeth a fine pear tree;
The fine pear tree hath leaves, too.
Now, what from the feather will be?
A beautiful bed.
Bed from the feather,
Feather from the bird,
Bird from the egg,
Egg in the nest,
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.

[Pg 131]

Out in the green, green meadow
Standeth a fine pear tree;
The fine pear tree hath leaves, too.
Now, what in that bed may be?
A beautiful child.
Child in the bed,
Bed from the feather,
Feather from the bird,
Bird from the egg,
Egg from the nest,
Nest on the twig,
Twig on the branch,
Branch on the tree,
Tree in the ground.