Chapter 6
I was once a bottle of ink, Inky, Dinky, Thinky, Inky, Blacky minky, Bottle of ink!
j
J was once a jar of jam, Jammy, Mammy, Clammy, Jammy, Sweety, swammy, Jar of jam!
k
K was once a little kite, Kity, Whity, Flighty, Kity, Out of sighty, Little kite!
l
L was once a little lark, Larky, Marky, Harky, Larky, In the parky, Little lark!
m
M was once a little mouse, Mousy, Bousy, Sousy, Mousy, In the housy, Little mouse!
n
N was once a little needle, Needly, Tweedly, Threedly, Needly, Wisky, wheedly, Little needle!
o
O was once a little owl, Owly, Prowly, Howly, Owly, Browny fowly, Little owl!
p
P was once a little pump, Pumpy, Slumpy, Flumpy, Pumpy, Dumpy, thumpy, Little pump!
q
Q was once a little quail, Quaily, Faily, Daily, Quaily, Stumpy-taily, Little quail!
r
R was once a little rose, Rosy, Posy, Nosy, Rosy, Blows-y, grows-y, Little rose!
s
S was once a little shrimp, Shrimpy, Nimpy, Flimpy, Shrimpy, Jumpy, jimpy, Little shrimp!
t
T was once a little thrush, Thrushy, Hushy, Bushy, Thrushy, Flitty, flushy, Little thrush!
u
U was once a little urn, Urny, Burny, Turny, Urny, Bubbly, burny, Little urn!
v
V was once a little vine, Viny, Winy, Twiny, Viny, Twisty-twiny, Little vine!
w
W was once a whale, Whaly, Scaly, Shaly, Whaly, Tumbly-taily, Mighty whale!
x
X was once a great king Xerxes, Xerxy, Perxy, Turxy, Xerxy, Linxy, lurxy, Great King Xerxes!
y
Y was once a little yew, Yewdy, Fewdy, Crudy, Yewdy, Growdy, grewdy, Little yew!
z
Z was once a piece of zinc, Tinky, Winky, Blinky, Tinky, Tinkly minky, Piece of zinc!
Edward Lear.
_A was an Ant_
A was an ant Who seldom stood still, And who made a nice house In the side of a hill. a Nice little ant!
B was a book With a binding of blue, And pictures and stories For me and for you. b Nice little book!
C was a cat Who ran after a rat; But his courage did fail When she seized on his tail. c Crafty old cat!
D was a duck With spots on his back, Who lived in the water, And always said "Quack!" d Dear little duck!
E was an elephant, Stately and wise: He had tusks and a trunk, And two queer little eyes. e Oh, what funny small eyes!
F was a fish Who was caught in a net; But he got out again, And is quite alive yet. f Lively young fish!
G was a goat Who was spotted with brown: When he did not lie still He walked up and down. g Good little goat!
H was a hat Which was all on one side; Its crown was too high, And its brim was too wide. h Oh, what a hat!
I was some ice So white and so nice, But which nobody tasted; And so it was wasted. i All that good ice!
J was a jackdaw Who hopped up and down In the principal street Of a neighboring town. j All through the town!
K was a kite Which flew out of sight, Above houses so high, Quite into the sky. k Fly away, kite!
L was a light Which burned all the night, And lighted the gloom Of a very dark room. l Useful nice light!
M was a mill Which stood on a hill, And turned round and round With a loud hummy sound. m Useful old mill!
N was a net Which was thrown in the sea To catch fish for dinner For you and for me. n Nice little net!
O was an orange So yellow and round: When it fell off the tree, It fell down to the ground. o Down to the ground!
P was a pig, Who was not very big; But his tail was too curly, And that made him surly. p Cross little pig!
Q was a quail With a very short tail; And he fed upon corn In the evening and morn. q Quaint little quail!
R was a rabbit, Who had a bad habit Of eating the flowers In gardens and bowers. r Naughty fat rabbit!
S was the sugar-tongs, Nippity-nee, To take up the sugar To put in our tea. s Nippity-nee!
T was a tortoise, All yellow and black: He walked slowly away, And he never came back. t Torty never came back!
U was an urn All polished and bright, And full of hot water At noon and at night. u Useful old urn!
V was a villa Which stood on a hill, By the side of a river, And close to a mill. v Nice little villa!
W was a whale With a very long tail, Whose movements were frantic Across the Atlantic. w Monstrous old whale!
X was King Xerxes, Who, more than all Turks, is Renowned for his fashion Of fury and passion. x Angry old Xerxes!
Y was a yew, Which flourished and grew By a quiet abode Near the side of a road. y Dark little yew!
Z was some zinc, So shiny and bright, Which caused you to wink In the sun's merry light. z Beautiful zinc!
Edward Lear.
_The Table and the Chair_
I
Said the Table to the Chair, "You can hardly be aware How I suffer from the heat And from chilblains on my feet. If we took a little walk, We might have a little talk; Pray let us take the air," Said the Table to the Chair.
II
Said the Chair unto the Table, "Now, you _know_ we are not able: How foolishly you talk, When you know we _cannot_ walk!" Said the Table with a sigh, "It can do no harm to try. I've as many legs as you: Why can't we walk on two?"
III
So they both went slowly down, And walked about the town With a cheerful bumpy sound As they toddled round and round; And everybody cried, As they hastened to their side, "See! the Table and the Chair Have come out to take the air!"
IV
But in going down an alley, To a castle in a valley, They completely lost their way, And wandered all the day; Till, to see them safely back, They paid a Ducky-quack, And a Beetle, and a Mouse, Who took them to their house.
V
Then they whispered to each other, "O delightful little brother, What a lovely walk we've taken! Let us dine on beans and bacon." So the Ducky and the leetle Browny-Mousy and the Beetle Dined, and danced upon their heads Till they toddled to their beds.
Edward Lear.
_Feeding the Fairies_
Fairies, fairies, come and be fed, Come and be fed like hens and cocks; Hither and thither with delicate tread, Flutter around me in fairy flocks. Come, little fairies, from far and near; Come, little fairies, I know you can fly; Who can be dear if _you_ are not dear? And who is so fond of a fairy as I?
Fairies, fairies, come if you please, Nod your heads and ruffle your wings, Marching in order or standing at ease, Frolicsome fairies are dear little things! Golden the grain and silver the rice, Pleasant the crumbs from Mama's own bread, Currants pick'd out of the pudding are nice-- Fairies, fairies, come and be fed!
Hushaby, oh! hushaby, oh! Hide by the door--keep very still-- I must be gentle, I must speak low, Or frighten the fairies I certainly will. Fairies are easily frighten'd, I know; They are so small, we must pity their fears. Hushaby, oh! hushaby, oh! Coax them and humour them--poor little dears!
Fairies, fairies, why don't you come? Fairies, fairies, wherefore delay? In a few minutes I must run home-- Cross little creatures! you know I can't stay! See how I scatter your beautiful food-- Good little fairies would come when I call; Fairies, fairies, _won't_ you be good? What is the use of my speaking at all?
"Two Friends."
_The Fairy_
Oh, who is so merry As the light-hearted fairy? He dances and sings To the sound of his wings, With a hey, and a heigh, and a ho!
Oh, who is so merry As the light-hearted fairy? His nectar he sips From the primrose's lips, With a hey, and a heigh, and a ho!
Oh, who is so merry As the light-hearted fairy? His night is the noon, And his sun is the moon, With a hey, and a heigh, and a ho!
Unknown.
V
THE QUEEN-MOTHER'S COUNSEL
_A Thought_[7]
It is very nice to think The world is full of meat and drink, With little children saying grace In every Christian kind of place.
Robert Louis Stevenson.
[Footnote 7: _From "Poems and Ballads," copyright, 1895, 1896, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]
_Inscription for My Little Son's Silver Plate_[8]
When thou dost eat from off this plate, I charge thee be thou temperate; Unto thine elders at the board Do thou sweet reverence accord; And, though to dignity inclined, Unto the serving-folk be kind; Be ever mindful of the poor, Nor turn them hungry from the door; And unto God, for health and food And all that in thy life is good, Give thou thy heart in gratitude.
Eugene Field.
[Footnote 8: _From "The Book of Joyous Children," copyright, 1902, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]
_Praise God_
Praise God for wheat, so white and sweet. Of which to make our bread! Praise God for yellow corn, with which His waiting world is fed! Praise God for fish and flesh and fowl He gave to men for food! Praise God for every creature which He made and called it good!
Praise God for winter's store of ice, Praise God for summer's heat! Praise God for fruit trees bearing seed, "To you it is for meat!" Praise God for all the bounty By which the world is fed! Praise God, ye children all, to whom He gives your daily bread!
Unknown.
_The Eyes of God_
God watches o'er us all the day, At home, at school, and at our play; And when the sun has left the skies He watches with a million eyes.
Gabriel Setoun.
_Kindness to Animals_
Little children, never give Pain to things that feel and live: Let the gentle robin come For the crumbs you save at home,-- As his meat you throw along He'll repay you with a song; Never hurt the timid hare Peeping from her green grass lair, Let her come and sport and play On the lawn at close of day; The little lark goes soaring high To the bright windows of the sky, Singing as if 'twere always spring, And fluttering on an untired wing,-- Oh! let him sing his happy song, Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.
Unknown.
_How Doth the Little Busy Bee_
How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flow'r!
How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labour or of skill, I would be busy too; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past, That I may give for ev'ry day Some good account at last.
Isaac Watts.
_Deeds of Kindness_
Suppose the little cowslip Should hang its golden cup, And say, "I'm such a tiny flower, I'd better not grow up." How many a weary traveller Would miss its fragrant smell! How many a little child would grieve To lose it from the dell!
Suppose the glistening dewdrop Upon the grass should say, "What can a little dewdrop do? I'd better roll away." The blade on which it rested, Before the day was done, Without a drop to moisten it, Would wither in the sun.
Suppose the little breezes, Upon a summer's day, Should think themselves too small to cool The traveller on his way: Who would not miss the smallest And softest ones that blow, And think they made a great mistake, If they were talking so?
How many deeds of kindness A little child may do, Although it has so little strength, And little wisdom too! It wants a loving spirit, Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do For others by its love.
F. P.
_Good Advice_
Seldom "can't," Seldom "don't"; Never "shan't," Never "won't."
Christina G. Rossetti.
_I'll Try_
Two Robin Redbreasts built their nest Within a hollow tree; The hen sat quietly at home, The cock sang merrily; And all the little robins said: "Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee."
One day the sun was warm and bright, And shining in the sky, Cock Robin said: "My little dears, 'Tis time you learned to fly"; And all the little young ones said: "I'll try, I'll try, I'll try."
I know a child, and who she is I'll tell you by and by, When mother says "Do this," or "that," She says "What for?" and "Why?" She'd be a better child by far If she would say "I'll try."
Unknown.
_Clothes_
Although my clothes are fine and gay They should not make me vain, For Nurse can take them all away, And put them on again.
Each flower _grows_ her pretty gown, So does each little weed, Their dresses are their very own, They may be proud indeed!
Abbie Farwell Brown.
_A Music Box_
I am a little Music Box Wound up and made to go, And play my little living-tune The best way that I know.
If I am naughty, cross, or rude The music will go wrong, My little works be tangled up, And spoil the pretty song.
I must be very sweet and good And happy all the day, And then the little Music Box In tune will always play.
Abbie Farwell Brown.
_If Ever I See_
If ever I see, On bush or tree, Young birds in their pretty nest, I must not in play, Steal the birds away, To grieve their mother's breast.
My mother, I know, Would sorrow so, Should I be stolen away; So I'll speak to the birds In my softest words, Nor hurt them in my play.
And when they can fly In the bright blue sky, They'll warble a song to me; And then if I'm sad It will make me glad To think they are happy and free.
Lydia Maria Child.
_Employment_
Who'll come and play with me here under the tree, My sisters have left me alone; My sweet little Sparrow, come hither to me, And play with me while they are gone.
O no, little lady, I can't come, indeed, I've no time to idle away, I've got all my dear little children to feed, And my nest to new cover with hay.
Pretty Bee, do not buzz about over the flower, But come here and play with me, do: The Sparrow won't come and stay with me an hour But stay, pretty Bee--will not you?
O no, little lady, for do not you see, Those must work who would prosper and thrive, If I play, they would call me a sad idle bee, And perhaps turn me out of the hive.
Stop! stop! little Ant--do not run off so fast, Wait with me a little and play: I hope I shall find a companion at last, You are not so busy as they.
O no, little lady, I can't stay with you, We're not made to play, but to labor: I always have something or other to do, If not for myself, for a neighbor.
What then, have they all some employment but me, Who lie lounging here like a dunce? O then, like the Ant, and the Sparrow, and Bee, I'll go to my lesson at once.
Jane Taylor.
_Stitching_
A pocket handkerchief to hem-- Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! How many stitches it will take Before it's done, I fear.
Yet set a stitch and then a stitch, And stitch and stitch away, Till stitch by stitch the hem is done-- And after work is play!
Christina G. Rossetti.
_Learning to Play_
Upon a tall piano stool I have to sit and play A stupid finger exercise For half an hour a day.
They call it "playing," but to me It's not a bit of fun. I _play_ when I am out of doors, Where I can jump and run.
But Mother says the little birds Who sing so nicely now, Had first to learn, and practice too, All sitting on a bough.
And maybe if I practice hard, Like them, I too, some day, Shall make the pretty music sound; Then I shall call it "play."
Abbie Farwell Brown.
_In Trust_[9]
It's coming, boys, It's almost here; It's coming, girls, The grand New Year!
A year to be glad in, Not to be bad in; A year to live in, To gain and give in; A year for trying, And not for sighing; A year for striving And hearty thriving; A bright new year. Oh! hold it dear; For God who sendeth He only lendeth.
Mary Mapes Dodge.
[Footnote 9: _From "Rhymes and Jingles," copyright, 1874, 1904, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]
VI
THE PALACE BED-TIME
_Watching Angels_
Angels at the foot, And Angels at the head, And like a curly little lamb My pretty babe in bed.
Christina G. Rossetti.
_The Story of Baby's Blanket_
Once a little Baby, On a sunny day, Out among the daisies Took his happy way. Little lambs were frisking In the fields so green, While the fleecy mothers All at rest were seen.
For a while the Baby Played and played and played; Then he sat and rested In the pleasant shade. Soon a Sheep came near him, Growing very bold, And this wondrous story To the Baby told:
"Baby's little blanket, Socks and worsted ball, Winter cap and mittens, And his flannels all, And his pretty afghan Warm and soft and fine, Once as wool were growing On this back of mine!
"And the soft bed blankets, For his cosey sleep, These were also given By his friends, the sheep." Such the wondrous story That the Baby heard: Did he understand it? Not a single word!
Emilie Poulsson.
_The Story of Baby's Pillow_
These are the Eggs that were put in a nest; These are the Goslings in yellow down drest.
This is the Farmyard where, living in peace, All the young Goslings grew up to be Geese.
Here's the Goose family waddling about-- In a procession they always walk out.
This is the Farmer who said, "Every Goose Now has some feathers on, ready for use."
This is the Farmer's Wife, plucking with care All of the feathers the Geese can well spare.
This is the Pillow the Merchant displayed: "Yes, of the finest Goose-feathers 'tis made."
This is the Mother who put on its case, Laid the wee Pillow away in its place.
This is the Crib with its furnishings white, This the dear Baby who bids you "Good-night."
Emilie Poulsson.
_The New Moon_
Dear mother, how pretty The moon looks to-night! She was never so cunning before; Her two little horns Are so sharp and so bright, I hope she'll not grow any more.
If I were up there With you and my friends, I'd rock in it nicely, you see; I'd sit in the middle And hold by both ends; O, what a bright cradle 'twould be!
I would call to the stars To keep out of the way, Lest we should rock over their toes, And there I would rock Till the dawn of the day, And see where the pretty moon goes.
And there we would stay In the beautiful skies, And through the bright clouds we would roam; We would see the sun set, And see the sun rise, And on the next rainbow come home.
Eliza Lee Follen.
_Lady Moon_
Lady moon, lady moon, Sailing so high! Drop down to baby From out the clear sky; Babykin, babykin, Down far below, I hear thee calling, But I cannot go.
But lady moon sendeth thee Soft shining rays; Moon loves the baby, The moonlight says. In her house dark and blue, Though she must stay, Kindly she'll watch thee Till dawns the new day.
Kate Kellogg.
_The Star_
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveller in the dark Thanks you for your tiny spark: He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.
In the dark-blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Unknown.
_The Child's Star_
The star that watched above your sleep has just put out his light. "Good day, to you on earth," he said, "is here in heav'n, good night." "But tell the child when he awakes, to watch for my return, For I'll hang out my lamp again, when his begins to burn."
John B. Tabb.
_Do You Know How Many Stars?_
Do you know how many stars There are shining in the skies? Do you know how many clouds Ev'ry day go floating by? God in heaven has counted all, He would miss one should it fall.
Do you know how many children Go to little beds at night, And without a care or sorrow, Wake up in the morning light? God in heaven each name can tell, Loves you, too, and loves you well.
From the German.
_Where Do All the Daisies Go?_
Where do all the daisies go? I know, I know! Underneath the snow they creep, Nod their little heads and sleep, In the springtime out they peep; That is where they go!
Where do all the birdies go? I know, I know! Far away from winter snow To the fair, warm South they go; There they stay till daisies blow, That is where they go!
Where do all the babies go? I know, I know! In the glancing firelight warm, Safely sheltered from all harm, Soft they lie on mother's arm, That is where they go!
Unknown.
_The Sweetest Place_