Part 2

Little yellow Sunbeam Said, "How can this be? Whence these little sparklers So unlike to me? Scarce I think they can be Sunbeams real and true, For we all are yellow; These are lovely blue."

Little yellow Sunbeam Flew back to the sky. Running to her father, She began to cry: "Father, you must vanish! Run and hide your head! There's a brighter sun than you In the baby's bed."

BABY'S BELONGINGS.

Here are the baby's bonny blue eyes. What shall we give her to see? A calico doll and a parrotty poll, As funny as funny can be.

Here are the baby's little pink ears. What shall we give her to hear? A bell that will ring, and a bird that will sing, And a brook that goes tinkling clear.

Here is the baby's little wee nose. What shall we give her to smell? A hyacinth blue and a violet too, And roses and lilies as well.

Here is the baby's pretty red mouth. What shall we give her to eat? A sugary heart and a raspberry tart, And everything else that is sweet.

And here are the baby's little fat hands. What shall we give her to hold? A sunbeam? That's right! and a rainbow bright, And plenty of silver and gold.

INFANTRY TACTICS.

_Present arms!_ There they are, Both stretched out to me. Strong and sturdy, smooth and white, Fair as arms may be.

_Ground arms!_ on the floor, Picking up his toys: Breaking all within his reach, Busiest of boys.

_Right wheel!_ off his cart, Left wheel too is gone. Horsey's head is broken off, Horsey's tail is torn.

_Quick step_, forward march! Crying, too, he comes. Had a battle with the cat. "Scratched off bofe my fums!"

_Shoulder arms!_ Here at last, Round my neck they close. Poor little soldier boy Off to quarters goes.

BABY BO.

Fly away, fly away, Birdie oh! Bring something home to my Baby Bo! Bring him a feather and bring him a song, And sing to him sweetly all the day long.

Hoppety, kickety, Grasshopper oh! Bring something home to my Baby Bo! Bring him a thistle and bring him a thorn, Hop over his head and then be gone.

Howlibus, gowlibus, Doggibus oh! Bring something home to my Baby Bo! Bring him a snarl and bring him a snap, And bring him a posy to put in his cap.

Twinkily, winkily, Firefly oh! Bring something home to my Baby Bo! Bring him a moonbeam and bring him a star, Then twinkily, winkily, fly away far.

THE DIFFERENCE.

Eight fingers, Ten toes, Two eyes, And one nose. Baby said When she smelt the rose, "Oh! what a pity I've only one nose!"

Ten teeth In even rows, Three dimples, And one nose. Baby said When she smelt the snuff, "Deary me! One nose is enough."

LITTLE JOHN BOTTLEJOHN.

Little John Bottlejohn lived on the hill, And a blithe little man was he. And he won the heart of a pretty mermaid Who lived in the deep blue sea. And every evening she used to sit And sing on the rocks by the sea, "Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won't you come out to me?"

Little John Bottlejohn heard her song, And he opened his little door. And he hopped and he skipped, and he skipped and he hopped, Until he came down to the shore. And there on the rocks sat the little mermaid, And still she was singing so free, "Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won't you come out to me?"

Little John Bottlejohn made a bow, And the mermaid, she made one too, And she said, "Oh! I never saw any one half So perfectly sweet as you! In my lovely home 'neath the ocean foam, How happy we both might be! Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won't you come down with me?"

Little John Bottlejohn said, "Oh yes! I'll willingly go with you. And I never shall quail at the sight of your tail, For perhaps I may grow one too." So he took her hand, and he left the land, And plunged in the foaming main. And little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Never was seen again.

JEMIMA BROWN.

I.

Bring her here, my little Alice, Poor Jemima Brown! Make the little cradle ready! Softly lay her down! Once she lived in ease and comfort, Slept on couch of down; Now upon the floor she's lying, Poor Jemima Brown!

II.

Once she was a lovely dolly, Rosy-cheeked and fair, With her eyes of brightest azure And her golden hair; Now, alas! no hair's remaining On her poor old crown; And the crown itself is broken, Poor Jemima Brown!

III.

Once her legs were smooth and comely, And her nose was straight; And that arm, now hanging lonely, Had, methinks, a mate. And she was as finely dressed as Any doll in town. Now she's old, forlorn, and ragged, Poor Jemima Brown!

IV.

Yet be kind to her, my Alice; 'Tis no fault of hers If her wilful little mistress Other dolls prefers. Did _she_ pull her pretty hair out? Did _she_ break her crown? Did _she_ pull her arms and legs off, Poor Jemima Brown?

V.

Little hands that did the mischief, You must do your best Now to give the poor old dolly Comfortable rest. So we'll make the cradle ready, And we'll lay her down; And we'll ask Papa to mend her, Poor Jemima Brown!

ALICE'S SUPPER.

Far down in the meadow the wheat grows green, And the reapers are whetting their sickles so keen; And this is the song that I hear them sing, While cheery and loud their voices ring: "'Tis the finest wheat that ever did grow! And it is for Alice's supper, ho! ho!"

Far down in the valley the old mill stands, And the miller is rubbing his dusty white hands; And these are the words of the miller's lay, As he watches the millstones a-grinding away: "'Tis the finest flour that money can buy, And it is for Alice's supper, hi! hi!"

Downstairs in the kitchen the fire doth glow, And Maggie is kneading the soft white dough, And this is the song that she's singing to-day, While merry and busy she's working away: "'Tis the finest dough, by near or by far, And it is for Alice's supper, ha! ha!"

And now to the nursery comes Nannie at last, And what in her hand is she bringing so fast? 'Tis a plate full of something all yellow and white, And she sings as she comes with her smile so bright: "'Tis the best bread-and-butter I ever did see! And it is for Alice's supper, he! he!"

TODDLEKINS.

Butterfly, Flutter by, Through the summer air; Roses bloom, Sweet perfume Shedding everywhere; Robins sing, Bluebells ring Greeting to my dear, When her sweet Tiny feet Bring her toddling here.

Pitapat! Little fat Funny baby toes! Do not stumble, Or she'll tumble On her baby nose. Closer cling, Little thing, To your mother's side, Baby mine, Fair and fine, Mother's joy and pride.

BOBBILY BOO AND WOLLYPOTUMP.

Bobbily Boo, the king so free, He used to drink the Mango tea. Mango tea and coffee, too, He drank them both till his nose turned blue.

Wollypotump, the queen so high, She used to eat the Gumbo pie. Gumbo pie and Gumbo cake, She ate them both till her teeth did break.

Bobbily Boo and Wollypotump, Each called the other a greedy frump. And when these terrible words were said, They sat and cried till they both were dead.

SLEEPYLAND.

Baby's been in Sleepyland, Over the hills, over the hills. Baby's been in Sleepyland All the rainy morning. From the cradle where she lay, Up she jumped and flew away, For Sleepyland is bright and gay Every rainy morning.

What did you see in Sleepyland, Baby littlest, Baby prettiest? What did you see in Sleepyland, All the rainy morning? Saw the sun that shone so twinkily, Saw the grass that waved so crinkily, Saw the brook that flowed so tinkily, All the lovely morning.

What did you hear in Sleepyland, Over the hills, over the hills? What did you hear in Sleepyland, All the rainy morning? Heard the winds that wooed so wooingly, Heard the doves that cooed so cooingly, Heard the cows that mooed so mooingly, All the lovely morning.

What did you do in Sleepyland, Baby littlest, Baby prettiest? What did you do in Sleepyland, All the rainy morning? Sang a song with a blue canary, Danced a dance with a golden fairy, Rode about on a cinnamon beary, All the lovely morning.

Would I could go to Sleepyland, Over the hills, over the hills; Would I could go to Sleepyland, Every rainy morning. But to Sleepyland, as I have been told, No one may go after three years old, So poor old Mammy stays out in the cold, Every rainy morning.

Little Brown Bobby.

Little Brown Bobby sat on the barn floor Little Brown Bobby looked in at the door, Little Brown Bobby said "Lackaday! Who'll drive me this little brown bobby away?" Little Brown Bobby said "Shoo! shoo! shoo!" Little Brown Bobby said "Moo! moo! moo!" This frightened them so that both of them cried, And wished they were back at their Mammy's side!

PHIL'S SECRET.

I know a little girl, But I won't tell who! Her hair is of the gold, And her eyes are of the blue. Her smile is of the sweet, And her heart is of the true. Such a pretty little girl!-- But I won't tell who.

I see her every day, But I won't tell where! It may be in the lane, By the thorn-tree there. It may be in the garden, By the rose-beds fair. Such a pretty little girl!-- But I won't tell where.

I'll marry her some day, But I won't tell when! The very smallest boys Make the very biggest men. When I'm as tall as father, You may ask about it then. Such a pretty little girl!-- But I won't tell when.

A SONG FOR HAL.

Once I saw a little boat, and a pretty, pretty boat, When daybreak the hills was adorning, And into it I jumped, and away I did float, So very, very early in the morning.

_Chorus._ And every little wave had its nightcap on, Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap on. And every little wave had its nightcap on, So very, very early in the morning.

All the fishes were asleep in their caves cool and deep, When the ripple round my keel flashed a warning. Said the minnow to the skate, "We must certainly be late, Though I thought 'twas very early in the morning."

_Chorus._ For every little wave has its nightcap on, Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap on. For every little wave has its nightcap on, So very, very early in the morning.

The lobster darkly green soon appeared upon the scene, And pearly drops his claws were adorning. Quoth he, "May I be boiled, if I'll have my slumber spoiled, So very, very early in the morning!"

_Chorus._ For every little wave has its nightcap on, Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap on, For every little wave has its nightcap on, So very, very early in the morning.

Said the sturgeon to the eel, "Just imagine how I feel, Thus roused without a syllable of warning. People ought to let us know when a-sailing they would go, So very, very early in the morning."

_Chorus._ When every little wave has its nightcap on, Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap on. When every little wave has its nightcap on, So very, very early in the morning.

Just then up jumped the sun, and the fishes every one For their laziness at once fell a-mourning. But I stayed to hear no more, for my boat had reached the shore, So very, very early in the morning.

_Chorus._ And every little wave took its nightcap off, Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap off. And every little wave took its nightcap off, And courtesied to the sun in the morning.

THE FAIRIES.

Is it true, my mother? Can it really be, That the little fairies Every day you see? Oh! the little fairies, Wonderful and wise, Have you really seen them With your own two eyes?

Tell me where their home is, Dearest mother mine. Is it in the garden 'Neath the clustering vine? Is it in the meadow, 'Mid the grasses tall? Is it by the brookside, Sweetest place of all?

Deep within the woodland, Shall I find them then,-- Pretty little maidens, Pretty little men; Curled among the roseleaves, Stretched along the fern, Where no wind can shake them, And no sunbeams burn?

Does the little queen live In a great red rose, Twenty elves to fan her When to sleep she goes; Coverlet of lilies Sprinkled o'er with pearls, Golden stars a-twinkling In her golden curls?

Do they paint the flowers? Do they teach the birds All their lovely music, With its strange, sweet words? Oh! but tell me, mother! Is it really true? And when next you seek them, Will you take me too?

True it is, my darling, True as true can be, That the little fairies Every day I see, Not within the meadow, Not in woodland gloom, But in brightest sunshine, In this very room.

Singing like the robin, Chirping like the wren, Pretty little maidens, Pretty little men; Leaning o'er my shoulder, Swinging on my chair, Oh! the little fairies, I see them everywhere.

Peeping at the window, Peeping at the door, If I bid them scamper, Peeping all the more. Little sweetest voices Laughing merrily, Oh! the little fairies, They'll never let me be.

Tugging at my apron, Twitching at my gown, Climbing up into my lap, Rumble-tumbling down. Naughty little blue eyes, Full of impish glee, Oh! the little fairies, They'll never let me be!

All are kings and queens, dear, Every smallest one; And on mother's knee here Is their regal throne. Look into the glass, dear! One of them you'll see. Oh! the little fairies, God bless them all for me!

THE QUEEN OF THE ORKNEY ISLANDS.

Oh! the Queen of the Orkney Islands, She's travelling over the sea: She's bringing a beautiful cuttlefish, To play with my baby and me.

Oh! his head is three miles long, my dear, His tail is three miles short. And when he goes out he wriggles his snout, In a way that no cuttlefish ought.

Oh! the Queen of the Orkney Islands, She rides on a sea-green whale. He takes her a mile, with an elegant smile, At every flip of his tail.

He can snuffle and snore like a Highlandman, And swear like a Portugee; He can amble and prance like a peer of France, And lie like a heathen Chinee.

Oh! the Queen of the Orkney Islands, She dresses in wonderful taste. The sea-serpent coils, all painted in oils, Around her bee-yu-tiful waist.

Oh! her gown is made of the green sea-kale; And though she knows nothing of feet, She can manage her train, with an air of disdain, In a way that is perfectly sweet.

Oh! the Queen of the Orkney Islands, She's travelling over the main. So we'll hire a hack, and we'll take her straight back To her beautiful Islands again.

BABY'S WAYS.

Toddle, toddle, waddle, waddle, On her little pinky toes. Stumble, stumble, pitch and tumble, That's the way the baby goes.

Prattle, prattle, rattle, rattle, Little shouts and little shrieks, Tears, with laughter coming after, That's the way the baby speaks.

Playing, toying, still enjoying Every sweet that Nature gives. Smiling, weeping, waking, sleeping, That's the way the baby lives.

POT AND KETTLE.

[_To be read to little boys and girls who quarrel with each other._]

"Oho! Oho!" said the pot to the kettle, "You're dirty and ugly and black! Sure no one would think you were made of metal, Except when you're given a crack."

"Not so! not so!" kettle said to the pot. "'Tis your own dirty image you see. For I am so clear, without blemish or blot, That your blackness is mirrored in me."

PUNKYDOODLE AND JOLLAPIN.

Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee! How does the Emperor take his tea? He takes it with melons, he takes it with milk, He takes it with syrup and sassafras silk. He takes it without, he takes it within. Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!

Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee! How does the Cardinal take his tea? He takes it in Latin, he takes it in Greek, He takes it just seventy times in the week. He takes it so strong that it makes him grin. Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!

Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee! How does the Admiral take his tea? He takes it with splices, he takes it with spars, He takes it with jokers and jolly jack tars. And he stirs it round with a dolphin's fin. Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!

Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee! How does the President take his tea? He takes it in bed, he takes it in school, He takes it in Congress against the rule. He takes it with brandy, and thinks it no sin. Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!

MRS. SNIPKIN AND MRS. WOBBLECHIN.

Skinny Mrs. Snipkin, With her little pipkin, Sat by the fireside a-warming of her toes. Fat Mrs. Wobblechin, With her little doublechin, Sat by the window a-cooling of her nose.

Says this one to that one, "Oh! you silly fat one, _Will_ you shut the window down? You're freezing me to death!" Says that one to t'other one, "Good gracious, how you bother one! There isn't air enough for me to draw my precious breath!"

Skinny Mrs. Snipkin, Took her little pipkin, Threw it straight across the room as hard as she could throw; Hit Mrs. Wobblechin On her little doublechin, And out of the window a-tumble she did go.

MY SUNBEAMS.

Oh, what shall we do for the Lovely This rainy, rainy day? Oh! how shall we make the baby laugh, When everything's dull and gray?

The sun has gone on a picnic, The moon has gone to bed, The tiresome sky does nothing but cry, As if its best friend were dead.

Come hither, come hither, my Sunbeams! Come one, and two, and three; And now in a trice we'll have the room As sunny as sunny can be.

Come, dimpling, dimpling Dumpling, Come, Rosy, Posy Rose, Come, little boy Billy a-toddling round On little fat tottering toes.

Now twinkle, now twinkle, my Sunbeams! Now twinkle and laugh and dance, And brush me the gloom straight out of the room, Nor leave it the ghost of a chance.

Aha! see the Lovely smile now! Aha! see her jump and crow! As round and round, with laugh and dance, My three merry Sunbeams go.

And who cares now for the raindrops? Who cares for the gloomy day, When each little heart is doing its part To make us all glad and gay?

You moon, you may stay in bed now; You sun, you may wander and roam; And cry away, cry, you tiresome sky! We've plenty of sunshine at home!

IN THE CLOSET.

They've took away the ball, Oh dear! And I'll never get it back, I fear. And now they've gone away, And left me for to stay All alone the livelong day, In here.

It was my ball, anyhow, Not his: For he never had a ball Like this. Such a coward you'll not see, E'en if you should live to be Old as Deuteronomy, As he is.

I'm sure I meant no harm, None at all! I just held out my hand For the ball, And--somehow--it hit his head. Then his nose it went and bled, And as if I 'd killed him dead He did bawl.

Mother said I was a naughty Little wretch. And Aunt Jane said the police She would fetch. And that nurse, who's always glad Of a chance to make me mad, Said, "indeed she never _had_ Seen sech!"

No! I never, never _will_ Be good! I'll go and be a babe In the wood. I'll run away to sea, And a pirate I will be. Then they'll never _dare_ call me Rough and rude.

How hungry I am getting! Let me see! I wonder what they're going to have For tea. Of course there will be jam And--oh! that potted ham! How unfortunate I am! Dear me!

Oh! it's growing very dark In here. And that shadow in the corner Looks so queer! Won't they bring me any light? Must I stay in here all night? I shall surely die of fright. Oh dear!

Mother, darling, will you _never_ Come back? _Oh! I'm sorry that I hit him Such a crack!_ Hark! yes, 'tis her voice I hear! Now good-by to every fear! For she's calling me her dear Little Jack!

BED-TIME.

How many toes has the tootsey foot? One, two, three, four, five. Shut them all up in the little red sock, Snugger than bees in a hive.

How many fingers has little wee hand? Four, and a little wee thumb. Shut them up under the bedclothes tight, For fear that Jack Frost should come.

How many eyes has the Baby Bo? Two, so shining and bright. Shut them up under the little white lids. And kiss them a loving good-night.

BIRD-SONG.

Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet! Sing we in the morning, Sending up to heaven's blue our happy waking song; Daily, gayly, our tiny home adorning, Working all so merrily the whole day long.

Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet! Sing we in the noontide; Half the day is over now, half our work is done; Neatly, featly, the moss and twigs are blended, Feather, flower, leaf, and stems, all added one by one.

Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet! Sing we in the evening; Happy day is past, past, happy night begun; Wooing, cooing, we nestle 'mid the branches, Sinking down to rest with the sinking of the sun.

Soft, soft, soft, soft, Sleep we through the still night; Tiny head 'neath tiny wing comfortably curled, Singing, springing, with the breath of morning, Waking up once more to all the wonder of the world.

GEOGRAPHI.

[AIR: _There was a maid in my countree._]

There was a man in Manitobá, The only man that ever was thar; His name was Nicholas Jones McGee, And he loved a maid in Mirimichi.

_Chorus._

Sing ha! ha! ha! for Manitobá! Sing he! he! he! for Mirimichi! Sing hi! hi! hi! for Geographi! And that's the lesson for you and me.

There was a man in New Mexico, He lost his grandmother out in the snow; But his heart was light, and his ways were free, So he bought him another in Santa Fé.

_Chorus._

Sing ho! ho! ho! for New Mexico! Sing he! he! he! for Santa Fé! Sing hi! hi! hi! for Geographi! And that's the lesson for you and me.

There was a man in Austra-li-a, He sat and wept on the new-mown hay; He jumped on the tail of a kangaroo. And rode till he came to Kalamazoo.

_Chorus._ Sing hey! hey! hey! for Austra-li-a! Sing hoo! hoo! hoo! for Kalamazoo! Sing hi! hi! hi! for Geographi! And that's the lesson for me and you.

There was a man in Jiggerajum, He went to sea in a kettle-drum; He sailed away to the Salisbury Shore, And I never set eyes on that man any more.