Chapter 18

But when he sits down to tea, From beneath the sofa creeping, Mabel climbs upon his knee, Clasps her hands: "I was not sleeping."

When he asks, "Where is my girl's Very secret hiding-place?" Mabel only shakes her curls, Laughing, smiling, in his face.

[Page 84--Play Land]

Little Sailors

Now, Harry, pull the chairs up, And, Fanny, get the shawl; We'll play that we are sailors, And that we're in a squall.

The fire will be a lighthouse, To warn us off the shore; And we will place the footstools For rocks, out on the floor.

Now this chair is the stern And that one is the bow; But there, you must be careful, And not lean hard, you know.

Now, sailors, pull that sail up, And tuck the corners in-- Well if you want it tighter, Ask mother for a pin.

Now couldn't we sing something About the "Ocean Blue"? Well, never mind, "By-baby" Or anything will do.

Take care, you careless sailors, And mind what you are about, You know the sea will drown you, If you should tumble out.

Brother Playing

Up and down the play-room, Then behind the door, Now upon the sofa, Now upon the floor.

In below the table, Round the big arm-chair, Goes my little brother, Crying "Are you there?"

And when brother sees me, Then away I run; And he follows after, Merry with the fun.

So at hide and seek we play. And pass the happy hours away.

Girls and Boys, Come Out to Play

Girls and boys, Come out to play, The sun is shining Away, away.

Into the meadow Over the way, Tumbling and tossing The new-mown hay.

Into the hedgerow Picking the May; Over the hills And far away.

Down by the brook Where the ripples play, Whirling and winding Their silvery way,

Then home again By a different way, Picking an armful Of wildflowers gay.

For mother dear To gladden her way, And wake in her heart A cheerful lay.

For every leaf Has it's sunny ray; All nature is happy And seems to say:

Girls and boys, Come out to play. The sun is shining Away, away.

Two Merry Men

Two merry men, One summer day, Forsook their toys, And forgot their play.

Two little faces, Full of fun, Two little hearts That beat as one.

Four little hands, At work with a will, Four little legs That can't keep still.

For labour is sweet, And toil is fun, When mother wants Any work to be done.

Mud Pies

Tell me little ladies, Playing in the sun, How many minutes Till the baking's done?

Susy gets the flour, All of golden dust; Harry builds the oven, Lily rolls the crust.

Pat it here, and pat it there; What a dainty size! Bake it on a shelf of stone, Nice mud pies!

Now we want a shower-- For we need it so-- It would make a roadside, Such a heap of dough.

Turn them in, and turn them out, How the morning flies! Ring the bell for dinner-- Hot mud pies!

The Playful Girl

I know a little girl, Who is very fond of play: And if her ma would let her, Would do nothing else all day.

She has a little doll, And another one quite large. She plays she has a little home, And house cares to discharge.

But when her mamma calls her, Some real work to do, She does not like to leave her play, And pouts till she is through.

Hay Making

In the hay, in the hay, Toss we and tumble; No one to say us nay, All through this Summer's day! No one to grumble.

In the hat, in the hay, Arthur we'll smother; Bring armfuls, heap them high, Pile them up--now good-bye, Poor little brother!

In the hay, in the hay, Snugly reclining, Shaded from the noontide heat, Smelling the clover sweet, See us all dining;

While the haymakers sit Under the willows, Each with his bread and cheese Spread out upon his knees, Hay for their pillows.

Hark! how the laugh and chat, Happy, light hearted! Now to their work they go, Raking up one long row, Fit to be carted.

Now comes the wagon near, Quickly they're loading; Rake away! rake away! While it's fine make the hay-- Rain is foreboding.

Now that the sunset ray Says the day's over, Homeward we make our way, In the cart strewn with hay, Smelling of clover.

Mrs. Hawtrey

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Johnny the Stout

"Ho! for a frolic!" Said Johnny the stout; "There's coasting and sledding; I'm going out."

Scarcely had Johnny Plunged in the snow, When there came a complaint Up from his toe:

"We're cold" said the toe, "I and the rest; There's ten of us freezing, Standing abreast."

Then up spoke an ear; "My, but it's labor-- Playing in winter. Eh! Opposite neighbour!"

"Pooh!" said his nose, Angry and red; "Who wants to tingle? Go home to bed!"

Eight little fingers, Four to a thumb, All cried together-- "Johnny, we're numb!"

But Johnny the stout Wouldn't listen a minute; Never a snow-bank But Johnny was in it.

Tumbling and jumping, Shouting with glee, Wading the snow-drifts Up to his knee.

Soon he forgot them, Fingers and toes, Never once thought of The ear and the nose.

Ah! What a frolic! All in a glow, Johnny grew warmer Out in the snow.

Often his breathing Came with a joke; "Blaze away, Johnny! I'll do the smoke."

"And I'll do the fire," Said Johnny the bold. "Fun is the fuel For driving off cold."

[Page 86--Play Land]

Training Time

Supper is over, Now for fun, This is the season Children must run;

Papa is reading; Says, of these boys; "Pray did you ever Hear such a noise?"

Riding on "camels" Over the floor, See, one's a squirrel Climbing the door;

There goes the baby Flat on his nose, Brother was trying To tickle his toes.

Little he minds it, Though he would cry, Changed it to laughter As Lyn galloped by;

Order is nowhere, Fun is the rule; Think, they are children Just out of school.

Home is their palace; They are the kings Let them be masters, Of just a few things;

Only one short hour Out of all day, Give them full freedom; Join in their play.

Do not be angry Do not forget You liked to make noise Sometimes do yet;

Home will be sweeter Till life is done If you will give them An hour of fun.

[Page 87--Play Land]

Playtime

Play-time, play-time, hurrah! Out in the fields together! Don't let us lose a moment's time, This fine, bright, glorious weather.

Run, boys! Run, boys! faster! Ball and the bats for cricket; Jack, you're the fastest runner here, Be off, and pitch the wicket.

Football for those who choose-- The goal stick--go, Jim, fix it; Give us the ball; who's won the toss? Now, for the first who kicks it.

No lazy ones today; Off, stretch your legs running! Now for the hip, hip, hip, hurrah! And let the noise be stunning.

Hear how it echoes round! Another and another! No fear of noise, it won't disturb Old granny and poor mother.

Hullo there! no foul play! Dick, what is that you're saying? No bad words and no cruel sport; We're come for fun and playing.

Romping

Why now, my dear boys, this is always the way, You can't be contented with innocent play; But this sort of romping, so noisy and high, Is never left off till it ends in a cry.

What! are there no games you can take a delight in, But kicking and knocking, and tearing, and fighting? It is a sad thing to be forced to conclude That boys can't be merry, without being rude.

Now what is the reason you never can play Without snatching each other's playthings away? Would it be any hardship to let them alone, When every one of you has toys of his own?

I often have told you before, my dear boys, That I do not object to your making a noise; Or running and jumping about, anyhow, But fighting and mischief I cannot allow.

So, if any more of these quarrels are heard, I tell you this once, and I'll keep to my word, I'll take every marble, and spintop and ball, And not let you play with each other at all.

Nurse's Song

When the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still.

"Then come home my children, the sun is gone down And the dews of the night arise; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away, Till the morning appears in the skies."

"No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, And we cannot go to sleep; Besides in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are covered with sheep."

"Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And then go home to bed." The little ones leaped, and shouted and laughed, And all the hills echoed.

W. Blake

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Swinging

Here we go on the garden swing, Under the chestnut tree. Up in the branches birdies sing Songs to Baby and me, Baby and Kitty and me. Then up, high up, for the ropes are long, And down, low down, for the branch is strong.

And there's room on the seat for three, Just Baby and Kitty and me Merrily swinging, Merrily singing, Under the chestnut tree.

Up to the clustering leaves we go, Down we sweep to the grass, Touching the daisies there below, Bowing to let us pass, Smiling to us as we pass. Then up, high up, for the ropes are long, And down, low down, for the branch is strong.

And there's room on the seat for three, Just Baby and Kitty and me Merrily swinging, Merrily singing, Under the chestnut tree.

Skating

One day it chanced that Miss Maud did meet The poet's little son, "I'm going skating, Sir," she said; "And so am I," said John.

"If you can skate and I can skate, Why let me skate with you, We'll go the whole world round and round, And skate the whole year through."

They skated left, and skated right, Miss Maud and little John, That is--as long as there was ice For them to skate upon.

And then they did unstrap their skates Like other girls and men, And never used them once--until They put them on again!

The Skipping Rope

Lessons now at last are over, Books and slates are put away; Hymns attentively repeated, Copy without a blot completed, Now's the time for fun and play.

Lessons done with cheerful spirit Bring the sure reward of merit, Smiling face and heart so gay; In this bright and smiling weather, Merrily they all together, With the skipping rope will play;

And if only Tom and Polly Will come too, it will be jolly! Here they are now, foot it lightly, Hand in hand they skip so sprightly, Bees are humming, Summer's coming.

Birds are singing as they're bringing Twigs from many a distant tree; Lined with down, and moss, and feather, Where they'll sit and chirp together, Oh! how snug those homes will be!

O'er the ropes so lightly skipping, O'er the grass so lightly tripping, The children are as glads as they. Lessons are done with cheerful spirit, Bring the sure reward of merit;

And remember, too, that they Who work hardest day by day, Always most enjoy their play.

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The Baby's Debut

My brother Jack was nine in May, And I was eight on New Year's day; So in Kate Wilson's shop Papa (he's my papa and Jack's) Bought me, last week, a doll of wax, And brother Jack a top.

Jack's in the pouts, and this it is, He thinks mine came to more than his; So to my drawer he goes, Takes out the doll, and, O, my stars! He pokes her head between the bars, And melts off half her nose!

Quite cross, a bit of string I beg, And tie it to his peg-top's peg, And bang with might and main, It's head against the parlor door: Off flies the head, and hits the floor, And breaks a window-pane.

This made him cry with rage and spite: Well, let him cry, it serves him right. A pretty thing, forsooth! If he's to melt, all scalding hot. Half my doll's nose, and I am not To draw his peg-top's tooth!

Aunt Hannah heard the window break, And cried "O naughty Nancy Lake, Thus to distress your aunt: No Drury-lane for you to-day!" And while papa said "Pooh, she may!" Mamma said "No she sha'n't!"

Well, after many a sad reproach, They got into a hackney coach, And trotted down the street. I saw them go: one horse was blind, The tails of both hung down behind, Their shoes were on their feet.

The chaise in which poor brother Bill Used to be drawn to Pentonville, Stood in the lumber-room: I wiped the dust from off the top, While molly mopp'd it with a mop, And brush'd it with a broom.

My uncle's porter, Samuel Hughes, Came in at six to black the shoes, (I always talk to Sam:) So what does he, but takes, and drags Me in the chaise among the flags, And leaves me where I am.

My father's walls are made of brick, But not so tall and not so thick As these; and, goodness me! My father's beams are made of wood, But never, never half so good As those that now I see.

What a large floor! 'tis like a town! The carpet, when they lay it down, Won't hide it, I'll be bound; And there's a row of lamps!--my eye! How they do blaze! I wonder why They keep them on the ground.

Let the Child Play

He who checks a child with terror, Stops its play and stills its song, Not alone commits an error But a great and grievous wrong.

Give it play, and never fear it; Active life is no defect. Never, never break its spirit; Curb it only to direct.

Would you stop the flowing river, Thinking it would cease to flow? Onward in must flow forever; Better teach it where to go.

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Reading

"And so you do not like to spell, Mary, my dear, oh, very well: 'Tis dull and troublesome,' you say, And you had rather be at play.

"Then bring me all your books again; Nay, Mary, why do you complain? For as you do not choose to read, You shall not have your books, indeed.

"So, as you wish to be a dunce, Pray go and fetch me them at once; For if you will not learn to spell, 'Tis vain to think of reading well.

"Do you not think you'll blush to own When you become a woman grown, Without one good excuse to plead, That you have never learnt to read?"

"Oh, dear mamma," said Mary then, "Do let me have my books again; I'll not fret any more indeed, If you will let me learn to read."

Jane Taylor

Mrs Grammar's Ball

Mrs Grammar once gave a fine ball To the nine different parts of our speech; To the short and the tall, To the stout and the small, There were pies, plums and puddings for each.

And first little Articles came, In a hurry to make themselves known-- Fat _A_, _An_, and _The_; But none of the three Could stand for a minute alone.

The Adjectives came to announce That their dear friends the Nouns were at hand, _Rough_, _rougher_ and _roughest_, _Tough_, _tougher_ and _toughest_, _Fat_, _merry_, _good-natured_ and _grand_.

The Nouns were indeed on their way, Tens of thousands, and more, I should think; For each name we could utter, _Shop_, _shoulder_, or _shutter_, Is a noun: _lady_, _lion_ or _link_.

The Pronouns were hastening fast To push the Nouns out of their places: _I_, _thou_, _he_, and _she_, _You_, _it_, _they_, and _we_, With their sprightly intelligent faces.

Some cried out, "Make way for the Verbs! A great crowd is coming in view!" To _light_ and to _smile_, To _fight_ and to _bite_, To _be_, and to _have_, and to _do_.

The Adverbs attended on the Verbs, Behind as their footmen they ran; As this, "to fight _badly_," And "run _away gladly_," Shows how fighting and running were done.

Prepositions came _in_, _by_, and _near_; With Conjunctions, a wee little band, As _either_ you _or_ he, But _neither_ I _nor_ she; They held their great friends by the hand.

Then, too, with a _hip_, _hip_, _hurrah_! Rushed in Interjections uproarious; _Dear me!_ _well-a-day!_ When they saw the display, "_Ha! Ha!_" they all shouted out, "glorious!"

But, alas! what misfortunes were nigh! While the fun and the feasting pleased each, Pounced on them at once A monster--a Dunce! And confounded the nine parts of speech!

Help! friends! to the rescue! on you For aid Verb and Article call; Oh! give your protection To poor Interjection, Noun, Pronoun, Conjunction, and all!

Grammar In Rhyme

Three little words we often see, And Article, _a_, _an_, _the_.

Noun's the name of anything, As _school_ or _garden_, _hoop_ or _string_.

Adjective tells the kind of noun, As _great_, _small_, _pretty_, _white_ or _brown_.

Instead of nouns, the Pronoun stand John's head, _his_ face, _my_ arm, _your_ hand.

Verbs tell us of something being done, To _read_, _write_, _count_, _sing_, _jump_, or _run_.

How things are done, the Adverbs tell, As _slowly_, _quickly_, _ill_, or _well_.

A Preposition stands before A noun, as _in_ or _through_ a door.

Conjunctions join the nouns together as men _and_ children, wind _and_ weather.

The Interjection shows surprise, As _Oh_, how pretty! _Ah_, how wise!

The whole are called nine parts of speech, Which reading, writing, speaking teach.

Value of Reading

The poor wretch who digs the mine for bread, Or ploughs so that others may be fed,-- Feels less fatigue, than that decreed To him that cannot think or read!

Hannah More

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[Page 92--Writing Land]

Little Flo's Letter

A sweet little baby brother Had come to live with Flo, And she wanted it brought to the table, That it might eat and grow. "It must wait a while," said grandma, In answer to her plea, "For a little thing that hasn't teeth Can't eat like you and me."

"Why hasn't it got teeth, grandma?" Asked Flo in great surprise, "O my, but isn't it funny?-- No teeth, but nose and eyes. "I guess," after thinking gravely, They must have been forgot. Can't we buy him some like grandpa's? I'd like to know why not."

That afternoon, to the corner, With paper, and pen, and ink, Went Flo, saying, "Don't talk to me; If you do, it'll 'sturb my think. I'm writing a letter, grandma, To send away to-night, An' 'cause it's very 'portant, I want to get it right."

At last the letter was finished, A wonderful thing to see, And directed to "God, in Heaven." Please read it over to me," Said little Flo to her grandma, "To see if it's right, you know." And here is the letter written To God by little Flo:--

"Dear God: The baby you brought us Is awful nice and sweet, But 'cause you forgot his tooffies The poor little thing can't eat. That's why I'm writing this letter, A purpose to let you know. Please come and finish the baby, That's all--From Little Flo."

Eben. E. Rexford

Exercise Makes Perfect

True ease in writing Comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest Who have learned to dance.

Pope

Hurrah for the Postman

Hurrah for the postman Who brings us the news! What a lot it must take To pay for his shoes.

For he walks many miles Each day of the week, And though he would like to, Must not stay to speak.

Red stripes round his blue cap, With clothing to match it; If he lost any letters, Oh, wouldn't he catch it!

Two Letters

FIRST

Dear Grandmamma--I write to say (And you'll be glad, I know,) That I am coming, Saturday, To spend a week or so.

I'm coming, too, without mamma, You know I'm eight years old! And you shall see how good I'll be, To do as I am told.

I'll help you lots about your word-- There's so much I can do-- I'll weed the garden, hunt for eggs, And feed the chickens, too.

And maybe I will be so good You'll keep me there till fall; Or, better still, perhaps you'll say I can't go home at all!

Now grandmamma, please don't forget To meet me at the train, For I'll be sure to come--unless It should cloud up and rain!

SECOND

Dear Mamma--Please put on your things, And take the next express; I want to go back home again-- I'm very sick, I guess!

My grandma's very good to me, But grandma isn't you; And I forgot, when I came here, I'd got to sleep here, too!

Last night I cried myself to sleep, I wanted you so bad! To day, I cannot play or eat, I feel so very sad.

Please, mamma, come, for I don't see How I can bear to wait! You'll find me, with my hat and sack Out by the garden gate.

And grandma will not care a bit If you should come, I know; Because I am your own little girl, And I do love you so.

Nell's Letter

Dear Grandmamma, I will try to write A very little letter; If I don't spell the words all right, Why next time I'll do better.

My little rabbit is alive, And likes his milk and clover, He likes to se me very much, But is afraid of Rover.

I have a dove as white as snow, I hall her "Polly Feather"; She flies and hops about the yard, In every kind of weather.

The hens are picking off the grass, And singing very loudly; While our old peacock struts about, And shows his feathers proudly.

I think I'll close my letter now, I've nothing more to tell; Please answer soon, and come to see Your loving, little Nell.

Baby's Letter to Uncle

Dear Old Uncle--I dot oor letter; My dear mamma, she ditten better; She every day a little bit stronger, Don't mean to be sick very much longer.

Dear little baby had a bad colic; Had to take three drops of nassy palagolic. Toot a dose of tatnip--felt worse as ever; Shan't tate no mors tytnip, never!

Wind on tomit, felt pooty bad; Worse fit of sickness ever I had! Ever had stomit ate, ole uncle Bill? Ain't no fun, now, say what oo will.

I used to sleep all day, and cry all night; Don't do it now, 'cause it ain't yite. Got a head of hair jess as black as night And big boo eyes, yat look very bright.

My mamma say, never did see Any ozzer baby half as sweet as me. Grandma come often, aunt Sarah, too; Baby loves zem, baby loves oo.

Baby sends a pooty kiss to his uncles all, Aunties and cousins, big folks and small. Can't say any more, so dood by-- Bully old uncle wiz a glass eye!

The First Letter

"Did you ever get a letter? I did the other day. It was in a real envelope, And it came a long, long way.