Chapter 5

Chapter 53,884 wordsPublic domain

When they are fed by their tender mother, One never will push nor crowd another: Each opens widely his own little bill, And he patiently waits, and gets his fill: Then "Coo," say the little ones, "Coo," says she, All in their nest in the old pine-tree.

Wisely the mother begins, by and by, To make her young ones learn to fly; Just for a little way over the brink, Then back to the nest as quick as a wink: And "Coo," say the little ones, "Coo," says she, All in their nest in the old pine-tree.

Fast grow the young ones, day and night, Till their wings are plumed for a longer flight; Till unto them at the last draws nigh The time when they all must say good-by: Then "Coo," say the little ones, "Coo," says she, And away they fly from the old pine-tree.

Unknown.

_The Other Side of the Sky_

A pool in a garden green, And the sky hung over all; Down to the water we lean-- What if I let you fall?

A little splash and a cry, A little gap in the blue, And you'd fall right into the sky-- Into the sky--and through.

What do you think they'd think? How do you think they'd greet A little wet baby in pink Tumbling down at their feet?

I wonder if they'd be shy, Those folk of the Far Away: On the other side of the Sky, Do you think you'd be asked to stay?

I think they would say--"No, no" (Peeping down through a crack), "For they seem to want her below, And so we must send her back."

W. Graham Robertson.

_The Happy World_

The bee is a rover; The brown bee is gay; To feed on the clover, He passes this way. Brown bee, humming over, What is it you say? "The world is so happy--so happy to-day!"

The martens have nested All under the eaves; The field-mice have jested And played in the sheaves; We have played, too, and rested, And none of us grieves, All over the wide world, who is it that grieves?

William Brighty Rands.

_Come, Little Leaves_

"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day. "Come over the meadows with me and play; Put on your dresses of red and gold, For summer is gone and the days grow cold."

Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, one and all; Over the brown fields they danced and flew, Singing the sweet little song they knew.

"Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long, Little brook, sing us your farewell song; Say you are sorry to see us go; All, you will miss us, right well we know.

"Dear little lambs in your fleecy fold, Mother will keep you from harm and cold; Fondly we watched you in vale and glade, Say, will you dream of our loving shade?"

Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went, Winter had called them, and they were content; Soon, fast asleep in their earthy beds, The snow laid a coverlid over their heads.

George Cooper.

_Little Jack Frost_

Little Jack Frost went up the hill, Watching the stars and the moon so still, Watching the stars and the moon so bright, And laughing aloud with all his might. Little Jack Frost ran down the hill, Late in the night when the winds were still, Late in the fall when the leaves fell down, Red and yellow and faded brown.

Little Jack Frost walked through the trees, "Ah," sighed the flowers, "we freeze, we freeze." "Ah," sighed the grasses, "we die, we die." Said Little Jack Frost, "Good-by, Good-by." Little Jack Frost tripped 'round and 'round, Spreading white snow on the frozen ground, Nipping the breezes, icing the streams, Chilling the warmth of the sun's bright beams.

But when Dame Nature brought back the spring, Brought back the birds to chirp and sing, Melted the snow and warmed the sky, Little Jack Frost went pouting by. The flowers opened their eyes of blue, Green buds peeped out and grasses grew; It was so warm and scorched him so, Little Jack Frost was glad to go.

Unknown.

_The Snow-Bird's Song_.

The ground was all covered with snow one day, And two little sisters were busy at play, When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee.

He had not been singing that tune very long Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song; "Oh, sister, look out of the window," said she; "Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, etc.

"Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose; I wish he'd come into the parlor and see How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee," etc.

"There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who, Has clothed me already, and warm enough too. Good-morning! Oh, who are as happy as we?" And away he went singing his chick-a-de-dee. Chick-a-de-dee, etc.

F. C. Woodworth.

_Snow_

O come to the garden, dear brother, and see, What mischief was done in the night; The snow has quite covered the nice apple-tree, And the bushes are sprinkled with white.

The spring in the grove is beginning to freeze, The pond is hard frozen all o'er; Long icicles hang in bright rows from the trees, And drop in odd shapes from the door.

The old mossy thatch, and the meadows so green, Are covered all over with white; The snowdrop and crocus no more can be seen, The thick snow has covered them quite.

And see the poor birds how they fly to and fro, They're come for their breakfast again; But the little worms all are hid under the snow, They hop about chirping in vain.

Then open the window, I'll throw them some bread, I've some of my breakfast to spare: I wish they would come to my hand to be fed, But they're all flown away, I declare.

Nay, now, pretty birds, don't be frightened, I pray, You shall not be hurt, I'll engage; I'm not come to catch you and force you away, And fasten you up in a cage.

I wish you could know you've no cause for alarm, From me you have nothing to fear; Why, my little fingers could do you no harm, Although you came ever so near.

Jane Taylor.

III

THE PALACE PETS

_The Cow_[4]

The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart.

She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day;

And blown by all the winds that pass And wet with all the showers, She walks among the meadow grass And eats the meadow flowers.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

[Footnote 4: _From "Poems and Ballads," copyright, 1895, 1896, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]

_The Good Moolly Cow_

Come! supper is ready; Come! boys and girls, now, For here is fresh milk From the good moolly cow.

Have done with your fife, And your row de dow dow, And taste this sweet milk From the good moolly cow.

Whoever is fretting Must clear up his brow, Or he'll have no milk From the good moolly cow.

And here is Miss Pussy; She means by _mee-ow_, Give me, too, some milk From the good moolly cow.

When children are hungry, O, who can tell how They love the fresh milk From the good moolly cow!

So, when you meet moolly, Just say, with a bow, "Thank you for your milk, Mrs. Good Moolly Cow."

Eliza Lee Follen.

_The Cow_

"Pretty Moo-cow, will you tell Why you like the fields so well? You never pluck the daisies white, Nor look up to the sky so bright; So tell me, Moo-cow, tell me true, Are you happy when you moo?"

"I do not pluck the daisies white; I care not for the sky so bright; But all day long I lie and eat Pleasant grass, so fresh and sweet,-- Grass that makes nice milk for you; So I am happy when I moo."

Mrs. Motherly.

_Bossy and the Daisy_

Right up into Bossy's eyes, Looked the Daisy, boldly, But, alas! to his surprise, Bossy ate him, coldly!

Listen! Daisies in the fields, Hide away from Bossy! Daisies make the milk she yields, And her coat grow glossy.

So, each day, she tries to find Daisies nodding sweetly, And although it's most unkind, Bites their heads off, neatly!

Margaret Deland.

_The Clucking Hen_

"Will you take a walk with me, My little wife, to-day? There's barley in the barley-field, And hay-seed in the hay."

"Thank you," said the clucking hen; "I've something else to do; I'm busy sitting on my eggs, I cannot walk with you."

"Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck," Said the clucking hen; "My little chicks will soon be hatched, I'll think about it then."

The clucking hen sat on her nest, She made it in the hay; And warm and snug beneath her breast, A dozen white eggs lay.

Crack, crack, went all the eggs, Out dropt the chickens small! "Cluck," said the clucking hen, "Now I have you all."

"Come along, my little chicks, I'll take a walk with _you_." "Hollo!" said the barn-door cock, "Cock-a-doodle-do!"

Aunt Effie's Rhymes.

_Chickens in Trouble_

"O mother, mother! I'm so cold!" One little chicken grumbled. "And, mother!" cried a second chick, "Against a stone I've stumbled."

"And oh! I am so sleepy now," Another chick was moaning; While chicken fourth of tired wings, Kept up a constant groaning.

"And, mother! I have such a pain!" Peeped out the chicken baby; "That yellow meal did taste so good, I've eaten too much, may be."

"And there's a black, black cloud up there," Cried all in fear and wonder; "O mother dear, do spread your wings And let us all creep under."

"There, there, my little dears, come here; Your cries are quite distressing," The mother called, and spread her wings For comfort and caressing.

And soon beneath her feathers warm, The little chicks were huddled; "I know what ailed you all," she said, "You wanted to be cuddled."

And as they nestled cosily And hushed their weak complaining, She told them that the black, black cloud Was quite too small for raining.

And one by one they all were soothed, And out again went straying, Until five happy little chicks Were in the farmyard playing.

Emilie Poulsson.

_From the Norwegian._

_The Funniest Thing in the World_[5]

The funniest thing in the world, I know, Is watchin' the monkeys 'at's in the show!-- Jumpin' an' runnin' an' racin' roun', 'Way up the top o' the pole; nen down! First they're here, an' nen they're there, An' ist a'most any an' ever'where!-- Screechin' an' scratchin' wherever they go, They're the funniest thing in the world, I know!

They're the funniest thing in the world, I think:-- Funny to watch 'em eat an' drink; Funny to watch 'em a-watchin' us, An' actin' 'most like grown folks does!-- Funny to watch 'em p'tend to be Skeerd at their tail 'at they happen to see;-- But the funniest thing in the world they do Is never to laugh, like me an' you!

James Whitcomb Riley.

_The Orphan's Song_

I had a little bird, I took it from the nest; I prest it and blest it, And nurst it in my breast.

I set it on the ground, Danced round and round, And sang about it so cheerly, With "Hey, my little bird, And ho! my little bird, And oh! but I love thee dearly!"

I make a little feast Of food soft and sweet, I hold it in my breast, And coax it to eat;

I pit, and I pat, I call this and that, And I sing about so cheerly, With "Hey, my little bird, And ho! my little bird, And ho! but I love thee dearly!"

Sydney Dobell.

_The Darling Birds_

The darling birds are warm; Yes, feather on feather, All close together, The darling birds are warm. They care not whether 'Tis stormy weather,

For they are safe from harm. With feather on feather, Tho' 'tis stormy weather, The darling birds are warm.

Unknown.

_The Lamb_

Now, Lamb, no longer naughty be, Be good and homewards come with me, Or else upon another day You shall not with the daisies play.

Did we not bring you, for a treat, In the green grass to frisk your feet? And when we must go home again You pull your ribbon and complain.

So, little Lamb, be good once more, And give your naughty tempers o'er. Then you again shall dine and sup On daisy white and buttercup.

Kate Greenaway.

_Four Pets_

Pussy has a whiskered face, Kitty has such pretty ways, Doggie scampers when I call, And has a heart to love us all.

The dog lies in his kennel, And Puss purrs on the rug, And baby perches on my knee For me to love and hug.

Pat the dog and stroke the cat, Each in its degree; And cuddle and kiss my baby, And baby dear kiss me.

Christina G. Rossetti.

_A Puppy's Problem_

When Midget was a puppy, And to the farm was brought, She found that there were many things A puppy must be taught.

Her mother oft had told her The first thing to be known Was how to gnaw and bite, and thus Enjoy a toothsome bone.

So Midget practiced biting On everything around, But that was not approved at all, To her surprise, she found.

The farmer spoke severely, Till Midget shook with fright; The children shouted "No, no, no! Bad Midget! Mustn't bite!"

'Twas just the same with barking; At first they all said "Hark!" Whenever Midget tried her voice; "Good puppy! that's it! Bark!"

But then, as soon as Midget Could sound a sharp "Bow-wow!" Alas! the talk was changed to "Hush! Such noise we can't allow."

Now wasn't that a puzzle? It seemed a problem dark, That it was right and wrong to bite And right and wrong to bark.

A puppy's hardest lesson Is when to bark and bite; But Midget learned it, and became A comfort and delight.

Emilie Poulsson.

_I Like Little Pussy_

I like little Pussy, Her coat is so warm; And if I don't hurt her She'll do me no harm. So I'll not pull her tail, Nor drive her away, But Pussy and I Very gently will play; She shall sit by my side, And I'll give her some food; And she'll love me because I am gentle and good.

I'll pat little Pussy, And then she will purr, And thus show her thanks For my kindness to her; I'll not pinch her ears, Nor tread on her paw, Lest I should provoke her To use her sharp claw; I never will vex her, Nor make her displeased, For Pussy can't bear To be worried or teased.

Jane Taylor.

THE PALACE JEST-BOOK

_The Owl and the Eel and the Warming-Pan_

The owl and the eel and the warming-pan, They went to call on the soap-fat man. The soap-fat man he was not within: He'd gone for a ride on his rolling-pin. So they all came back by the way of the town, And turned the meeting-house upside down.

Laura E. Richards.

_The Fastidious Serpent_

There was a snake that dwelt in Skye, Over the misty sea, oh; He liv'd upon nothing but gooseberry-pie For breakfast, dinner, and tea, oh.

Now gooseberry-pie--as is very well known-- Over the misty sea, oh, Is not to be found under every stone, Nor yet upon every tree, oh.

And being so ill to please with his meat, Over the misty sea, oh, The snake had sometimes nothing to eat, And an angry snake was he, oh.

Then he'd flick his tongue and his head he'd shake, Over the misty sea, oh, Crying, "Gooseberry-pie! For goodness' sake Some gooseberry-pie for me, oh!"

And if gooseberry-pie was not to be had, Over the misty sea, oh, He'd twine and twist like an eel gone mad, Or a worm just stung by a bee, oh.

But though he might shout and wriggle about, Over the misty sea, oh, The snake had often to go without His breakfast, dinner, and tea, oh.

Henry Johnstone.

_Snake Story_

There was a little Serpent and he wouldn't go to school-- Oh, what a naughty little Snake! He grinn'd and put his tongue out when they said it was the rule-- Ah, what a naughty face to make.

He wriggled off behind a stone and hid himself from sight-- Oh, what a naughty thing to do! And went to sleep as if it were the middle of the night-- I wouldn't do like that, would you?

He dreamt of stealing linties' eggs and sucking them quite dry-- Oh, what a greedy thing to dream! And then he dreamt that he had wings and knew the way to fly-- Ah, what a pleasure that would seem!

By came a collie dog and said, "What have we here? Oh, it's a horrid little Snake!" He bark'd at him and woke him up and fill'd him full of fear-- Ah, how his heart began to quake!

How the Serpent got away he really didn't know-- Oh, what a dreadful fright he got! But he hurried all the way to school as hard as he could go, Dusty and terrified and hot.

As into school he wriggled, they were putting books away-- "Oh," says the master, "is it you? Stand upon that stool, sir, while the others go to play; That's what a truant has to do."

Henry Johnstone.

_The Melancholy Pig_

There was a Pig, that sat alone, Beside a ruined Pump. By day and night he made his moan: It would have stirred a heart of stone To see him wring his hoofs and groan, Because he could not jump.

Lewis Carroll.

_Hospitality_

Said a Snake to a Frog with a wrinkled skin, "As I notice, dear, that your dress is thin, And a rain is coming, I'll take you in."

John B. Tabb.

_Lost_

"_Lock the dairy door!_" Oh, hark, the cock is crowing proudly! "_Lock the dairy door!_" and all the hens are cackling loudly: "_Chickle, chackle, chee,_" they cry; "_we haven't got the key,_" they cry; "_Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh, dear, wherever can it be!_" they cry.

Up and down the garden walks where all the flowers are blowing, Out about the golden fields where tall the wheat is growing, Through the barn and up the road they cackle and they chatter: Cry the children, "Hear the hens! Why, what can be the matter?"

What scraping and what scratching, what bristling and what hustling; The cock stands on the fence, the wind his ruddy plumage rustling; Like a soldier grand he stands, and like a trumpet glorious Sounds his shout both far and near, imperious and victorious.

But to partlets down below, who cannot find the key, they hear, "_Lock the dairy door!_" That's all his challenge says to them, my dear. Why they had it, how they lost it, must remain a mystery; I that tell you, never heard the first part of the history.

But if you will listen, dear, next time the cock crows proudly, "_Lock the dairy door!_" you'll hear him tell the biddies loudly: "_Chickle, chackle, chee,_" they cry; "_we haven't got the key!_" they cry; "_Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh, dear, wherever can it be!_" they cry.

Celia Thaxter.

_Extremes_[6]

A little boy once played so loud That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud, Said, "Since _I_ can't be heard, why, then, I'll never, never thunder again!"

And a little girl once kept so still That she heard a fly on the window-sill Whisper and say to a lady-bird,-- "She's the stilliest child I ever heard!"

James Whitcomb Riley.

_The Dream of a Girl Who Lived at Seven-Oaks_

Seven sweet singing birds up in a tree; Seven swift sailing-ships white upon the sea; Seven bright weather-cocks shining in the sun; Seven slim race-horses ready for a run; Seven gold butterflies, flitting overhead; Seven red roses blowing in a garden bed; Seven white lilies, with honey bees inside them; Seven round rainbows with clouds to divide them; Seven pretty little girls with sugar on their lips; Seven witty little boys, whom everybody tips; Seven nice fathers, to call little maids joys; Seven nice mothers, to kiss the little boys; Seven nights running I dreamt it all plain; With bread and jam for supper I could dream it all again!

William Brighty Rands.

_The Dream of a Boy Who Lived at Nine-Elms_

Nine grenadiers, with bayonets in their guns; Nine bakers' baskets, with hot-cross buns; Nine brown elephants, standing in a row; Nine new velocipedes, good ones to go; Nine knickerbocker suits, with buttons all complete; Nine pair of skates with straps for the feet; Nine clever conjurors eating hot coals; Nine sturdy mountaineers leaping on their poles; Nine little drummer-boys beating on their drums; Nine fat aldermen sitting on their thumbs; Nine new knockers to our front door; Nine new neighbours that I never saw before; Nine times running I dreamt it all plain; With bread and cheese for supper I could dream it all again!

William Brighty Rands.

_A Little Boy's Pocket_

Do you know what's in my pottet? Such a lot of treasures in it! Listen now while I bedin it: Such a lot of sings it holds, And everysin dats in my pottet, And when, and where, and how I dot it. First of all, here's in my pottet A beauty shell, I pit'd it up: And here's the handle of a tup That somebody has broked at tea; The shell's a hole in it, you see: Nobody knows dat I dot it, I teep it safe here in my pottet. And here's my ball too in my pottet, And here's my pennies, one, two, free, That Aunty Mary dave to me, To-morrow day I'll buy a spade, When I'm out walking with the maid; I tant put that here in my pottet! But I can use it when I've dot it. Here's some more sings in my pottet, Here's my lead, and here's my string; And once I had an iron ring, But through a hole it lost one day, And this is what I always say-- A hole's the worst sing in a pottet, Be sure and mend it when you've dot it.

Unknown.

_A. Apple Pie_

A was once an apple-pie, Pidy, Widy, Tidy, Pidy, Nice insidy, Apple-pie!

B was once a little bear, Beary, Wary, Hairy, Beary, Taky caky, Little bear!

C was once a little cake, Caky, Baky, Maky, Caky, Taky caky, Little cake!

D was once a little doll, Dolly, Molly, Polly, Nolly, Nursy dolly, Little doll!

E was once a little eel, Eely, Weely, Peely, Eely, Twirly, tweely, Little eel!

F was once a little fish, Fishy, Wishy, Squishy, Fishy, In a dishy, Little fish!

G was once a little goose, Goosy, Moosy, Boosey, Goosey, Waddly-woosy, Little goose!

H was once a little hen, Henny, Chenny, Tenny, Henny, Eggsy-any, Little hen?