Chapter 3

Maltese, yellow, and black as ink; White, with both ears lined with pink; Striped, like a royal tiger's skin; Yet all were hollow-eyed, and thin; And each one wailed aloud, Once, and twice, and thrice: "We are the willow-pussies; O, where are the willow-mice!"

Meanwhile, outside, through branch and bough, The March wind wailed, "_M-e-o-w! m-e-o-w!_" 'Twas dark, and yet Gold-Locks awoke, And softly to her mother spoke: "If they were fed, mamma, It would be very nice; But I _hope_ the willow-pussies Won't find the willow-mice!"

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Little girl, Little girl, Where have you been? Gathering roses to give to the queen.

TONY.

By Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

Whisk!--away in the sun His little flying feet Scamper as softly fleet As ever the rabbits run. He is gone like a flash, and then In a breath is back again.

The silky flosses shine Down to his very toes: Tipped with white is his nose: And his ears are fleeces fine, Blowing a shadow-grace Breeze-like about his face.

Quick to a whistled call Hearkens his ready ear, Scarcely waiting to hear; Silk locks, white feet, all Rush, like a furry elf Tumbling over himself.

How does he sleep? He winks Twice with his mischief eyes; Dozes a bit; then lies Down with a sigh; then thinks Over some roguish play, And is up and away!

CAMPING OUT.

By Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

Dame Spider had spun herself lank and thin With trying to take her neighbors in; Grasshopper had traveled so far and so fast That he found he must give up at last; And the maiden Ant had bustled about The village till she was all worn out.

Old Bumble Bee had lived on sweet Till he couldn't help but overeat; Miss Worm had measured her puny length Till she had no longer any strength; And Mr. Beetle was shocked to find His eyes were failing and almost blind.

So they all decided that they must seek Their health in the country for a week. And they made a mixed but a merry throng, For those who had children took them along. They pitched their tent and made their camp, Shelter from possible cold and damp.

'Twas novel, and each in his own way Sought to make happy the holiday. Grasshopper took his youngest daughter Out for a stroll along the water; She shrieked with joy, "O, see the cherries!" When they found some low-bush huckleberries.

Dame Spider, with mischief in her eye, Thought she would angle for a fly; So, spinning a silk thread, long and fine, With wicked skill she cast the line; While Bumble Bee, in his gold-laced clothes, In the shade of a clover leaf lay for a doze.

Miss Worm, who was full of sentiment, With the maiden Ant for a ramble went; Here was a flower, and there a flower-- But suddenly rose a thunder shower. They screamed; but they got on very well, For they found what the Ant called an "umberell."

A leaf on the water lay afloat, Which the blundering Beetle thought a boat. Far down in his heart his dearest wish Was to find some hitherto unfound fish. He never came back from that fatal swim, So 'twas always thought that a fish found him.

At night when the cheery fire was lit They heaped dry branches over it, And in the light of the crackling blaze Told funny stories of other days, And smoked, till the Ant yawned wide and said: "'Tis time we folks were all abed!"

But scarce was each to his slumber laid, When the country folks came to serenade; With twang of fiddle, and toot of horn, And shriek of fife, they stayed till morn! Poor Campers! never a wink got they! So they started for home at break of day.

DAME SPIDER.

By Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

Little Dame Spider had finished her spinning, Just as the warm summer day was beginning, And the white threads of her beautiful curtain Tied she and glued she to make them more certain.

Dressed in her old-fashioned feathers and fringes, Then she sat down to wait; on silken hinges Swung the light fleece with a moonshiny glisten; Nothing for her but to watch and to listen.

Presently, going off early to labor,-- Bowing politely, as neighbor to neighbor, When he caught sight of this little old woman,-- Sailed by a honey-bee, serge-clad and common.

"Are you so scornful because I am humble? Many a time your rich relatives, Bumble, Pause in their flying to chat for an hour!" She called out after him, half gay, half sour.

"O, no," he cried. "I am off to discover What I can find fresh in the way of white clover; But since your window is cosy and shady, I _will_ sit down half a minute, dear Lady."

Little Dame Spider arose with a rustle, Welcomed him with ceremonious bustle; Quick as a flash threw her long arms around him, Heeded no buzzing, but held him and bound him;

Tied knots so tight that he could not undo them; Wove snares so strong that he could not break through them; Then, with a relish, stood chuckling and grinning, "This is to pay me for my early spinning!"

At the home-hive the bees going and coming Kept up all day their industrious humming, Nor did it one of their busy heads bother That Madame Spider had dined off their brother.

HICKORY DICKORY DOCK.

by

Clara Doty Bates

Tick-Tack! tick-tack! This way, that way, forward, back, Swings the pendulum to and fro, Always regular, always slow. Grave and solemn on the wall,-- Hear it whisper! hear it call! Little Ginx knows naught of Time, But has heard the mystic rhyme,-- "Hickory, dickory, dock! The mouse ran up the clock!"

Tick-tack! tick-tack! White old face with figures black! So when dismal, stormy days Keep him from his out-door plays, Most that he cares for is to sit Watching, always watching it. And when the hour strikes he thinks,-- (A dear, wise head has the little Ginx!) "The clock strikes one, The mice ran down!"

Tick-tack! tick-tack! This way, that way, forward, back! Though so measured and precise, Ginx believes it full of mice. A mouse runs up at every tick, But when the stroke comes, scampering quick, Mice run down again; so they go, Up and down, and to and fro! Hickory, dickory, dock, Full of mice is the clock!

DAME FIDGET AND HER SILVER PENNY.

Versified by Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

A Wee, wee woman Was little old Dame Fidget, And she lived by herself In a wee, wee room, And early every morning, So tidy was her habit, She began to sweep it out With a wee, wee broom.

To sweep for the cinders, Though never were there any, She whisked about, and brushed about, Humming like a bee; When, odd enough, one day She found a silver penny, Shining in a corner, As bright as bright could be.

She eyed it, she took it Between her thumb and finger; She put it in the sugar bowl And quickly shut the lid; And after planning over carefully The way to spend it, She resolved to go to market And to buy herself a kid.

And that she did next day; but, ah, The kid proved very lazy! And it moved toward home so slowly She could scarcely see it crawl; At first she coaxed and petted it, And then she stormed and scolded, Till at last, when they had reached the bridge, It would not go at all.

Just then Dame Fidget saw a dog run by, And whistled to him, And cried:--"Pray dog bite kid, Kid won't go! I see by the moonlight 'Tis almost midnight, And time kid and I were home Half an hour ago!"

But no, he said he wouldn't; So to the stick she pleaded:-- "Pray stick beat dog, dog won't bite kid, Kid won't go! I see by the moonlight 'Tis almost midnight, And time kid and I were home Half an hour ago!"

But the stick didn't stir, So she called upon the fire:-- "Pray fire burn stick, stick won't beat dog, Dog won't bite kid, Kid won't go! And I see by the moonlight 'Tis almost midnight, And time kid and I were home Half an hour ago!"

But the fire only smoked, So she turned and begged the water:-- "Pray water quench fire, fire won't burn stick, Stick won't beat dog, dog won't bite kid, Kid won't go! I see by the moonlight 'Tis already midnight, And time kid and I were home An hour and a half ago!"

"Ha, ha!" the water gurgled, So to the ox appealing:-- "Pray ox drink water, water won't quench fire, Fire won't burn stick, stick won't beat dog, Dog won't bite kid, Kid won't go! And I see by the moonlight 'Tis already midnight, And time kid and I were home An hour and a half ago!"

But the ox bellowed "no!" So she shouted to the butcher:-- "Pray 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 kid, Kid won't go! I see by the moonlight 'Tis getting past midnight, And time kid and I were home An hour and a half ago!"

But the butcher only laughed at her, And to the rope she hurried:-- "Pray 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 kid, Kid won't go! And I see by the moonlight 'Tis getting past midnight, And time kid and I were home An hour and a half ago."

The rope swayed round for "nay!" So to the rat she beckoned:-- "Pray 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 kid, Kid won't go! And I see by the moonlight 'Tis long past midnight, And time kid and I were home A couple of hours ago!"

A scornful squeak was all he deigned, And so she called the kitten:-- "Pray cat eat 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 kid, Kid won't go! And I see by the moonlight 'Tis long past midnight, And time kid and I were home Hours and hours ago!"

Now pussy loved a rat, So she seized him in a minute: And the cat began to eat 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 kid, And the kid began to go! And home through the moonlight, Long after midnight, The little dame and little kid Went trudging--oh, _so_ slow!

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The little Boy in the Barn, Lay down on some hay. The Owl came out, And flew about, And the little Boy ran away.

FOOLISH BOBOLINK.

By Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

What a silly bobolink, Down in the meadow grasses! What can the noisy fellow think, When, to everyone who passes, He calls out cheerily, "Here, here is my nest! See! see!"

He could hide the summer through In the thick, sweet-smelling clover, Nor could anyone from dawn to dew, His little house discover, Did he not make so free With the secret--"Here! see! see!"

Little Ted has ears and eyes, And how can he keep from knowing Just where the cosy treasure lies, When bobolink, coming, going, Shouts, plain as plain can be, "Here, here is a nest! See! see!"

And Teddy would like to creep Tip-toe across the meadow, And for just one minute stoop and peep Under the clover shadow. He would do no harm--not he! But would only see, see, see!

And what would he find below The sheltering grass, you wonder? Why, a nest, of course, and an egg or so, A mother's dark wings under. But bobolink--he would flee In a fright--"A boy! see! see!"

So Teddy, whose heart is kind, Though he longs to venture near him, Sighs to himself, "Ah, never mind!" And listens, glad to hear him Shouting, in tireless glee, "Here, here is my nest! See! see!"

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Green gravel, Green gravel, The grass is so green, The fairest young maiden, that ever was seen, Oh Mary, oh Mary, your true love is dead. He's sent you a green bough To tie round your head.

ALADDIN

Versified by Clara Doty Bates

I see a little group about my chair, Lovers of stories all! First, Saxon Edith, of the corn-silk hair, Growing so strong and tall!

Then little brother, on whose sturdy face Soft baby dimples fly, As fear or pleasure give each other place When wonders multiply;

Then Gold-locks--summers nine their goldenest Have showered on her head, And tinted it, of all the colors best, Warm robin-red breast red;

Then, close at hand, on lowly haunches set, With pricked up, tasseled ear, Is Tony, little cleared-eyed spaniel pet, Waiting, like them, to hear.

I say I have no story--all are told! Not to be daunted thus, They only crowd more confident and bold, And laugh, incredulous.

And so, remembering how, once on a time, I, too, loved such delights, I choose this one and put it into rhyme, From the "Arabian Nights."

A poor little lad was Aladdin! His mother was wretchedly poor; A widow, who scarce ever had in Her cupboard enough of a store To frighten the wolf from the door.

No doubt he was quite a fine fellow For the country he lived in--but, ah! His skin was a dull, dusky yellow, And his hair was as long as 'twould grow. ('Tis the fashion in China, you know.)

But however he looked, or however He fared, a strange fortune was his. None of you, dears, though fair-faced and clever, Can have anything like to this, So grand and so marvelous it is!

Well, one day--for so runs the tradition-- While idling and lingering about The low city streets, a Magician From Africa, swarthy and stout, With his wise, prying eyes spied him out,

And went up to him very politely, And asked what his name was and cried: "My lad, if I judge of you rightly, You're the son of my brother who died-- My poor Mustafa!"--and he sighed.

"Ah, yes, Mustafa was my father," Aladdin cried back, "and he's dead!" "Well, then, both yourself and your mother I will care for forever," he said, "And you never shall lack wine nor bread."

And thus did the wily old wizard Deceive with his kindness the two For a deed of dark peril and hazard He had for Aladdin to do, At the risk of his life, too, he knew.

Far down in the earth's very centre There burned a strange lamp at a shrine; Great stones marked the one place to enter; Down under t'was dark as a mine; What further--no one could divine!

And that was the treasure Aladdin Was sent to secure. First he tore The huge stones away, for he had in An instant the strength of a score; Then he stepped through the cavern-like door.

Down, down, through the darkness so chilly! On, on, through the long galleries! Coming now upon gardens of lilies, And now upon fruit-burdened trees, Filled full of the humming of bees.

But, ah, should one tip of his finger Touch aught as he passed, it was death! Not a fruit on the boughs made him linger, Nor the great heaps of gold underneath. But on he fled, holding his breath,

Until he espied, brightly burning, The mystical lamp in its place! He plucked the hot wick out, and, turning, With triumph and joy in his face, Set out his long way to retrace.

At last he saw where daylight shed a Soft ray through a chink overhead, Where the crafty Magician was ready To catch the first sound of his tread. "Reach the lamp up to me, first!" he said.

Aladdin with luck had grown bolder, And he cried, "Wait a bit, and we'll see!" Then with huge, ugly push of his shoulder, And with strong, heavy thrust of his knee, The wizard--so angry was he--

Pried up the great rock, rolled it over The door with an oath and a stamp; "Stay there under that little cover, And die of the mildew and damp," He shouted, "or give me the lamp!"

Aladdin saw darkness fall o'er him; He clutched at the lamp in his hand, And, happening to rub it, before him A Genius stood, stately and grand. Whence he came he could not understand.

"I obey you," it said, "and whatever You ask for, or wish, you shall have! Rub the lamp but the least bit soever, It calls me, for I am its slave!" Aladdin said, "Open this cave!"

He was freed from the place in a minute; And he rubbed once again: "Take me home!" Home he was. And as blithe as a linnet Rubbed again for the Genius with: "Come, I am dying for food; get me some!"

Thus at first he but valued his treasure Because simple wants it supplied. Grown older it furnished him pleasure; And then it brought riches beside; And, at last, it secured him his bride.

Now the Princess most lovely of any Was Badroulboudour, (what a name!) Who, though sought for and sued for by many, No matter how grandly they came, Yet merrily laughed them to shame,

Until with his riches and splendor, Aladdin as lover enrolled! For the first thing he did was to send her Some forty great baskets of gold, And all the fine gems they would hold.

Then he built her a palace, set thickly With jewels at window and door; And all was completed so quickly She saw bannered battlements soar Where was nothing an hour before.

There millions of servants attended, Black slaves and white slaves, thick as bees, Obedient, attentive, and splendid In purple and gold liveries, Fine to see, swift to serve, sure to please!

Him she wedded. They lived without trouble As long as the lamp was their own; But one day, like the burst of a bubble, The palace and Princess were gone; Without wings to fly they had flown!

And Aladdin, dismayed to discover That the lamp had been stolen away, Bent all of his strength to recover The treasure, and day after day, He journeyed this way and that way;

And at last, after terrible hazard, After many a peril and strife, He found that the vengeful old wizard, Who had made the attempt on his life, Had stolen lamp, princess and wife.

With a shrewdness which would have done credit To even a Yankee boy, he Sought the lamp where the wizard had hid it, And, turning a mystical key, Brought it forth, and then, rubbing with glee,

"Back to China!" he cried. In a minute The marvellous palace uprose, With the Princess Badroulboudour in it Unruffled in royal repose, With her jewels and cloth-of-gold clothes;

And with gay clouds of banners and towers, With its millions of slaves, white and black. It was borne by obedient Powers, As swift as the wind on its track, And ere one could count ten it was back!

And ever thereafter, Aladdin Clung close to the lamp of his fate, Whatever the robe he was clad in, Or whether he fasted or ate; And at all hours, early and late! Right lucky was Lord Aladdin!

BLUE BEARD

Once on a time there was a man so hideous and ugly That little children shrank and tried to hide when he appeared; His eyes were fierce and prominent, his long hair stiff like bristles, His stature was enormous, and he wore a long blue beard-- He took his name from that through all the country round about him,-- And whispered tales of dreadful deeds but helped to make him feared.

Yet he was rich, O! very rich; his home was in a castle, Whose turrets darkened on the sky, so grand and black and bold That like a thunder-cloud it looked upon the blue horizon. He had fertile lands and parks and towns and hunting-grounds and gold, And tapestries a queen might covet, statues, pictures, jewels, While his servants numbered hundreds, and his wines were rare and old.

Now near to this old Blue-beard's castle lived a lady neighbor, Who had two daughters, beautiful as lilies on a stem; And he asked that one of them be given him in marriage-- He did not care which one it was, but left the choice to them. But, oh, the terror that they felt, their efforts to evade him, With careless art, with coquetry, with wile and stratagem!

He saw their high young spirits scorned him, yet he meant to conquer. He planned a visit for them,--or, 'twas rather one long fête; And to charming guests and lovely feasts, to music and to dancing, Swung wide upon its hinges grim the gloomy castle gate. And, sure enough, before a week was ended, blinded, dazzled, The youngest maiden whispered "yes," and yielded to her fate.

And so she wedded Blue-beard--like a wise and wily spider He had lured into his web the wished-for, silly little fly! And, before the honeymoon was gone, one day he stood beside her, And with oily words of sorrow, but with evil in his eye, Said his business for a month or more would call him to a distance, And he must leave her--sorry to--but then, she must not cry!

He bade her have her friends, as many as she liked, about her, And handed her a jingling bunch of something, saying, "These Will open vaults and cellars and the heavy iron boxes Where all my gold and jewels are, or any door you please. Go where you like, do what you will, one single thing excepted!" And here he look a little key from out the bunch of keys.

"This will unlock the closet at the end of the long passage, But that you must not enter! I forbid it!"--and he frowned. So she promised that she would not, and he went upon his journey. And no sooner was he gone than all her merry friends around Came to visit her, and made the dim old corridors and chambers With their silken dresses whisper, with laugh and song resound.

Up and down the oaken stairways flitted dainty-footed ladies, Lighting up the shadowy twilight with the lustre of their bloom; Like the varied sunlight streaming through an old cathedral window Went their brightness glancing through the unaccustomed gloom, But Blue-beard's wife was restless, and a strong desire possessed her Through it all to get a single peep at that forbidden room.

And so one day she slipped away from all her guests, unnoted, Down through the lower passage, till she reached the fatal door, Put in the key and turned the lock, and gently pushed it open-- But, oh the horrid sight that met her eyes! Upon the floor There were blood-stains dark and dreadful, and like dresses in a wardrobe, There were women hung up by their hair, and dripping in their gore!

Then, at once, upon her mind the unknown fate that had befallen The other wives of Blue-beard flashed--'twas now no mystery! She started back as cold as icicles, as white as ashes, And upon the clammy floor her trembling fingers dropped the key. She caught it up, she whirled the bolt to, shut the sight behind her, And like a startled deer at sound of hunter's gun, fled she!