Part 6

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.

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."

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!

[C] From "Arabella and Araminta Stories." Used by permission of publishers, Small, Maynard & Co., Boston.

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.

"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.

[D] Used by permission of _The Youth's Companion_.

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.

[E] From "A Year of Song," by W. Grahame Robertson; used by permission of the publishers, John Lane Company.

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.

LATE

By Josephine Preston Peabody

My father brought Somebody up To show us all asleep. They came as softly up the Stairs As you could creep.

They whispered in the Doorway there, And looked at us awhile. I had my Eyes shut up, but I Could feel him smile.

I shut my Eyes up close, and lay As still as I could keep. Because I knew He wanted us To be asleep.

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

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.

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.

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.

[F] These words are published by the Company in the form of a musical composition by Adam Geibel, the well-known composer.

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.

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.