Part 8
But I set more store by its rusty stock, Than the finest money could buy; An' if you'll stan' stiddy, Dan'l, I'll tell ye the reason why.
You never seed Gret Gran'f'ther, But you've seed his pictur, boy, With the smilin' mouth, an' the big brown eyes Jes' brimmin' with life and joy.
Wal! he war'n't like thet when I seed him, But his sperrit was lively still, Fer all his white hair an' empty sleeve, As it was at Bunker Hill.
An' many's the time he's told me, Settin' here in this very cheer, Of the fust time he shouldered thet musket, In the Continental year.
How out in the field a-mowin', He seed the bay'nets glance, An' ran fer his gun with a lighter heart Than ever he went to a dance.
Jest as he was,--in his shirt-sleeves (Fer the day was warm and bright), An' no hat,--but shoulderin' his musket, Gret Gran'f'ther went to the fight.
An' thar upon Bunker hillside, Whar the smoke hung thick an' gray, He went a-gunnin' fer redcoats, As you'd go fer sparrers to-day.
Hey! but the balls were whistlin'! An' the flashes kem thick an' fast; But whose-ever musket hed fust word, Gret Gran'f'ther's hed the last.
Then a gunner was shot beside him, Thet handled a six-pound gun, An' they called fer a man to tend her; An' Gran'f'ther said he was one.
"I ain't never fired a gun," said he, "But I'll do my prideful best; An' ef all you want is a man, Colonel, Mebbe I'm as good as the rest."
An' I reckon he was! fer he stood thar, An' fired thet six-pound gun, Till every redcoat within his range Hed either dropped or run.
Then all of a suddent thar kem a crack, A flash an' a twinge an' a thrill, An' Gran'f'ther's right arm dropped by his side, An' hung thar, limp an' still.
Jest fer a moment, I've heard him say, The hull world seemed to reel; An' a hummin' sound went through his ears, Like Gran'm'ther's spinnin'-wheel.
But he hedn't no time for faintin', Nor he hedn't no time for pain; "It's well I'm left-handed!" says Gran'f'ther, An' he fired the gun again.
Bimeby, when the Colonel found him, Arter the fight was done, He was lyin', all black like a nigger, An' senseless, along by his gun.
Then the boys made a kind o' stretcher, An' jest as they laid him a-top, "The balls was all gone," he says, "Colonel, So I was obleeged to stop."
Yes! thet was the way Gret Gran'f'ther fit, An' the way he lost his arm; But he shot with his left till the land was free, An' then he kem back to the farm.
An' he laid his musket acrost them hooks, An' thar it's laid to this day; An' spite o' you an' the sparrers, Dan'l, Thar's whar it's a-goin' to stay.
The school-bell! run now, sonny boy! An' thank ye fer standin' still. What's thet? Ay! Hurrah fer Gret Gran'f'ther! An' hurrah fer Bunker Hill!
DAY DREAMS.
White wings over the water, Fluttering, fluttering over the sea, White wings over the water, What are you bringing to me? A fairy prince in a golden boat, With golden ringlets that fall and float, A velvet cap, and a taffety cloak, This you are bringing to me.
Fairy, fairy princekin, Sailing, sailing hither to me, Silk and satin and velvet, What are you coming to see? A little girl in a calico gown, With hair and eyes of dusky brown, Who sits on the wharf of the fishing-town, Looking away to sea.
Golden, golden sunbeams, Touch me now with your wands of gold; Make me a beautiful princess, Radiant to behold.
Blue and silver and ermine fine, Diamond drops that flash and shine; So shall I meet this prince of mine, Fairer than may be told.
White wings over the water, Fluttering ever farther away; Dark clouds shrouding the sunbeams, Sullen and cold and gray. Back I go in my calico gown, Back to the hut in the fishing-town. And oh, but the night shuts darkly down After the summer day!
THE BATTLE.
[_All the children march, each singing a verse in turn, and all joining in the refrain._]
I am a German, Marching, marching. I am a German, Tum tum tum! Musket on shoulder, Who could be bolder, Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
_Chorus_. Bang! bang! bang! Hear the muskets rattle! Bang! bang! bang! bang! Now we'll have a battle. Shoot 'em through the head, Run 'em through the body! He who runs away Is called a Hoddy-Doddy.[1]
[_Repeat after each verse._]
I am a Frenchman, Marching, marching. I am a Frenchman, Tum tum tum! First at the front, I will bear the battle's brunt, Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
I am an Englishman, Marching, marching. I am an Englishman, Tum tum tum! Let the foeman meet me! Where's the one to beat me? Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
I am an Irishman, Marching, marching. I am an Irishman, Tum tum tum! When the battle's ready, Who'll be there but Paddy? Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
[_All together._]
We are the regiment, Marching, marching. We are the regiment, Tum tum tum! Let the trumpets blow, As we rush to meet the foe, With a tan tan tara! at the sound of the drum.
[1] "Though you're such a Hoddy-Doddy!"--_Edward Lear._
THE STRANGE BEAST.
Four gay gallants of London town Went out to walk on Horsley Down; And there they saw a beast, The like of which had ne'er been seen In Cheapside or in Strand, I ween, In West-side or in East.
Its legs were four, its tail was one, So one gallant swore by the sun It therefore was a horse; "Nay!" cried the next, "this talk is idle. If 'twere a horse, 'twould have a bridle, A saddle, too, of course."
"It has a horn, you will perceive, We'll therefore call it, by your leave, A unicorn of pride." The others vowed by stick and fiddle The unicorn wore his horn in the middle, And not upon the side.
"I call't a lion!" said the third. "Nay!" cried the fourth, "that's _too_ absurd! The creature has no mane. To one who has a judgment fair, It would appear to be a bear; And this I will maintain."
The beast (I'll tell the secret now! 'Twas Farmer Giles's one-horned cow, Her other horn was broken) Advanced, meanwhile, toward the four, And as 'twas supper-time and more, Mooed loud, by way of token.
With shriek and scream those gallants gay To London town fled back away, As fast as they might fare. And when at home they stopped to rest 'em, A whole menagerie had chased 'em, As every one could swear.
A GARDEN JINGLE.
Three little peas, Three little peas, Three little peas in a pod. The pod it was green, And fair to be seen, But they wanted to go abroad.
And "Oh," said they, "To be far away, Out in the air so green! To flutter and fly Like the birds that go by! We would envy nor king nor queen."
Three little peas, Three little peas, Three little peas in a pod. My Harry he took them, And rattled and shook them, And fired them all abroad.
The first one fell Right into the well, And learned how to float and swim. The second did fly Into Roderick's eye, And sorely disgusted him.
But the third little pea, Right venturesomely, Straight up in the air it flew; And it stared in surprise With both of its eyes, To find that the air was blue.
THE BABY GOES TO BOSTON.
What does the train say? Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle! What does the train say? Jiggle joggle jee! Will the little baby go Riding with the locomo? Loky moky poky stoky Smoky choky chee!
Ting! ting! the bells ring, Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle! Ting! ting! the bells ring, Jiggle joggle jee! Ring for joy because we go Riding with the locomo, Loky moky poky stoky Smoky choky chee!
Look! how the trees run, Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle! Each chasing t'other one, Jiggle joggle jee! Are they running for to go Riding with the locomo? Loky moky poky stoky Smoky choky chee!
Over the hills now, Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle! Down through the vale below, Jiggle joggle jee! All the cows and horses run, Crying, "Won't you take us on, Loky moky poky stoky Smoky choky chee?"
So, so, the miles go, Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle! Now it's fast and now it's slow, Jiggle joggle jee! When we're at our journey's end, Say good-by to snorting friend, Loky moky poky stoky Smoky choky chee!
THE FLAG IN THE SCHOOLROOM.
[_Written for the Central Street Grammar School, Gardiner, Me., Dec. 20, 1880._]
Goddess Freedom, look abroad From thy snowy mount to-night! In all thy realm so fair and broad, Thou shalt not see a fairer sight. Youthful hearts, so glad and free, Paying homage due to thee: Youthful voices, fresh and strong, Singing thine immortal song.
As the stars with many a ray Deck thy banner's azure field, So these children stand to-day, Stars of hope upon thy shield. May each boy, to manhood grown, Ever, Freedom, be thine own; Now thy nursling, frail and tender, Then thy strength and thy defender.
In the years that are to come, Be they dark or be they bright, Make in these young hearts thy home, Raise them to thy lofty height. Keep them still, in manhood's glow, Pure as is our northern snow; Keep their faith, till life be done, Bright as is our northern sun!
JOHNNY JUMP-UP.
Who wakes earliest in the morn? Sure you'll think it is the lark, Who before the daylight's born, Rises singing through the dark.
But though sweet the lark may carol, Early to his mate may call, Johnny Jump-up, Johnny Jump-up, Carols loud before them all.
Who wakes latest in the night When the sun is gone to bed, When each tiny blossom bright Nods in sleep its pretty head?
Other babies all are sleeping, Mother's eyelids droop and fall. Johnny Jump-up, Johnny Jump-up, Waketh later than them all.
Johnny's eyes are very lovely, Johnny's eyes are very blue; But one hardly cares to see them Snap and dance the whole night through.
Johnny's laugh is clear and ringing, Tinkling like a silver bell; But a child should _not_ be singing Morning, noon, and night as well.
Johnny Jump-up, Johnny Jump-up, Rules us with his tiny hand; Lord and master, king and kaiser, In the realm of Nurseryland.
Take your pleasure without measure; Laugh and crow, and whoop and call! Johnny Jump-up, Johnny Jump-up, We're your faithful servants all!
THE OUTLANDISHMAN.
The Outlandishman came o'er the sea, o'er the sea, In a skipaway flipaway boat; And who so merry, so merry as he, As soon as he got afloat?
He sat on the poop to gobble his soup With a spoon, with a spoon of the best; And part of his fast he broke on the mast, And smashed on the bowsprit the rest.
He lowered his line in the deep, in the deep, And invited the fishlikins up; Then he hung them in rows in front of his nose, And wished it were time to sup.
Then the Bottlegreen Bovis arose, arose, And asked was he game for a fight; But he seized on the anchor and threw it with rancor, And the foe-fish retired from sight.
He danced on the deck with never a check Till the clock, till the clock struck nine. And his eyes did wink, and he sang "tink a tink!" In the mowl of the merry moonshine.
Lo! all of these things the Outlandishman did, As he sailed, as he sailed on the sea. Yea, more! yea, more! both sorry and sore, But you never shall learn them from me.
A SLEIGH-RIDE.
Ting! ring! the sleigh-bells jingle Merrily over the frozen snow. Cheeks a-glow and ears a-tingle, Tumble in, children, here we go!
Ting! ring! the sleigh-bells jingle! Get along, Dobbin! go along, Jack! Bells and voices merrily mingle, Swift we fly as an arrow's track.
Ting! ring! the sleigh-bells jingle! Nose cold, Tommy? Here, rub it with snow! Toes ache, Ned? Just kick till they tingle, Thump! thump! thump! on the dasher, so!
Ting! ring! the sleigh-bells jingle! Snow-wreaths fly like a snow-sea's foam. Sweet bells, sweet laugh, hark! how they mingle! Tumble out, children, here we're at home!
The Little Gnome
Once there lived a little gnome Who had made his little home Right down in the middle of the earth, earth, earth. He was full of fun and frolic, But his wife was melancholic, And he never could divert her into mirth, mirth, mirth.
He had tried her with a monkey And a parrot and a donkey, And a pig that squealed whene'er he pulled its tail, tail, tail. But though he laughed himself Into fits, the jolly elf, Still his wifey's melancholy did not fail, fail, fail.
"I will hie me," said the gnome, "From my worthy earthy home; I will go among the dwellings of the men, men, men. _Something_ funny there must be, That will make her say 'He, he!' I will find it and will bring it her again, 'gain, 'gain."
So he travelled here and there, And he saw the Blinking Bear, And the Pattypol whose eyes are in his tail, tail, tail. And he saw the Linking Gloon, Who was playing the bassoon, And the Octopus a-waltzing with the whale, whale, whale.
He saw the Chingo Chee, And a lovely sight was he, With a ringlet and a ribbon on his nose, nose, nose, And the Baggle, and the Wogg, And the Cantilunar Dog, Who was throwing cotton-flannel at his foes, foes, foes.
All these the little gnome Transported to his home, And set them down before his weeping wife, wife, wife; But she only cried and cried, And she sobbywobbed and sighed, Till she really was in danger of her life, life, life.
Then the gnome was in despair, And he tore his purple hair, And he sat him down in sorrow on a stone, stone, stone. "I, too," he said, "will cry, Till I tumble down and die, For I've had enough of laughing all alone, 'lone, 'lone."
His tears they flowed away, Like a rivulet at play, With a bubble, gubble, rubble, o'er the ground, ground, ground. But when this his wifey saw, She loudly cried "Haw, haw! Here at last is something funny you have found, found, found."
She laughed, "Ho, ho! he, he!" And she chuckled loud with glee, And she wiped away her little husband's tears, tears, tears. And since then, through wind and weather, They have said "He, he!" together, For several hundred thousand merry years, years, years.
THE LITTLE DUTCHESS
Once there lived a little Dutchess, Just beside the Zuyder Zee; Short and stout and roly-poly, As a Dutchess ought to be.
She had pigs and she had poultry, She had lands and she had gold; And she loved the Burgomaster,-- Loved him more than can be told.
"Surly, burly Burgomaster, Will you have me for your love? You shall be my pouter-pigeon, I will be your turtle-dove.
"You shall have my China porkers, You shall have each Dorking hen; Take them with your loving Dutchess, Oh, you Dutchiest of men!"
Loudly laughed the Burgomaster, "Naught I care for Dorking fowls; Naught for pig, unless 'tis roasted, And on that my doctor scowls.
"Frumpy, stumpy little Dutchess, I do not incline to wed. Keep your pigs and keep your poultry! I will take your gold instead.
"I will take your shining florins, I will take your fields' rich hoard; You may go and tend your piggies Till your spirits be restored."
Loudly wept the little Dutchess, Tending sad each China pig; Loudly laughed the Burgomaster 'Neath his merry periwig.
Till the Dutchy people, angry Conduct such as this to see, Took and plumped the pouter-pigeon Right into the Zuyder Zee.
* * * * *
BOOKS BY LAURA E. RICHARDS
THE GOLDEN WINDOWS. A Book of Fables for Old and Young
_Illustrated Edition._ With five full-page illustrations and text decorations by Arthur E. Becher and Julia Ward Richards. 12mo. Full gilt. $1.50.
_Popular Edition._ With frontispiece and text decorations. 16mo. $1.00.
Simply written, and exquisitely conceived with a little golden moral attached to each.--_Boston Herald._
Fitly named, for the book is a window into a realm as beautiful as it is real.--_The Outlook_, New York.
THE SILVER CROWN. Another Book of Fables for Old and Young
With ornamental initials and title-page by Julia Ward Shaw. 12mo. Decorated cloth, gilt top. $1.25.
Forty-five simply written fables each with its own delightful conception, and its own little moral, fragrant with aspiration.--_New York Times._
Replete with exquisite feeling and lovely in the telling. No child can read them without learning many a lesson tenderly imparted, and no grown persons will read them without content in their heart-satisfying wisdom.--_Chicago Post._
THE JOYOUS STORY OF TOTO
Illustrated by E. H. Garrett. 12mo. Cloth. $1.00.
Toto is a little boy who lives with his blind grandmother on the edge of a wood. Toto makes friends with all the wood creatures, from the bear to the squirrel, and they frequently come to the house to entertain the grandmother with their conversation. Told in a droll way which is heartily enjoyed by the children.
TOTO'S MERRY WINTER
Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth. $1.00.
Toto's friends of the wood consent to spend the winter with him at the cottage. Their adventures and their stories (for they delight to tell stories when gathered before the fire) make a volume full of treasures for young folks.
IN MY NURSERY. A Book of Rhymes for Young Folks
Profusely illustrated. Small 4to. $1.00 _net_.
Ex-President Theodore Roosevelt says:
"There is a book I did not have when I was a child because it was not written. It is Laura E. Richards' nursery rhymes. My own children loved them dearly and their mother and I love them almost equally."
THE PIG BROTHER
Illustrated. 12mo. 40 cents _net_.
A collection of the best of Mrs. Richards' short stories and verses for children of nine or ten.
LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers 34 BEACON STREET :: :: :: :: :: BOSTON, MASS.