Part 3

In the daytime when sweeping and dusting And cleaning were quite at an end, He would sit very still on the doorstep And dream--Oh, that he had a friend!

Somebody to come when he called them, Somebody to catch by the hand, Somebody to sleep with at night time, Somebody who’d quite understand.

One night in the middle of Winter He lay wide awake on his bed, Outside there was fury of tempest And calling of wolves to be fed--

Thin wolves, grey and silent as shadows; And Olaf was frightened to death. He had peeped through a crack in the doorpost, He had _seen_ the white smoke of their breath.

But suddenly over the storm wind He heard a small voice pleadingly Cry, “I am a snow fairy, Olaf, Unfasten the window for me.”

So he did, and there flew through the opening The daintiest, prettiest sprite; Her face and her dress and her stockings, Her hands and her curls were all white.

And she said, “O you poor little stranger Before I am melted, you know, I have brought you a _valuable_ present, A little brown fiddle and bow.

So now you can never be lonely, With a fiddle, you see, for a friend, But all through the Summer and Winter Play beautiful songs without end.”

And then,--O she melted like water, But Olaf was happy at last; The fiddle he tucked in his shoulder, He held his small bow very fast.

So perhaps on the quietest of evenings If you listen, you may hear him soon, The child who is playing the fiddle Away up in the cold, lonely moon.

OPPOSITES

The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Walked out into the street And splashed in all the puddles till She had such shocking feet.

The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child Stayed quietly in the house And sat upon the fender stool As still as any mouse.

The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child, Her hands were black as ink; She would come running through the house And begging for a drink.

The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child, Her hands were white as snow; She did not like to play around, She only liked to sew.

The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Lost hair ribbons galore; She dropped them on the garden walks, She dropped them on the floor.

The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child, O thoughtful little girl! She liked to walk quite soberly, It kept her hair in curl.

The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child When she was glad or proud Just flung her arms round Mother’s neck And kissed her very loud.

The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child Was shocked at such a sight, She only offered you her cheek At morning and at night.

O Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child, Your happy laughing face Does like a scented Summer rose Make sweet the dullest place.

O Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child, My dear, I’m well content, To have my daughter in my arms, And not an ornament.

SONG OF KAREN, THE DANCING CHILD

(O little white feet of mine) Out in the storm and the rain you fly; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Can the children hear my cry?

(O little white feet of mine) Never a child in the whole great town; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Lights out and the blinds pulled down.

(O little white feet of mine) Never a light on a window pane, (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) And the wild wet cry of the rain.

(O little white feet of mine) Shall I never again be still? (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) And away over valley and hill.

(O little white feet of mine) Children, children, open the door! (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) And the wind shrieks Nevermore.

A JOYFUL SONG OF FIVE

Come, let us all sing very high And all sing very loud And keep on singing in the street Until there’s quite a crowd;

And keep on singing in the house And up and down the stairs; Then underneath the furniture Let’s all play Polar bears;

And crawl about with doormats on, And growl and howl and squeak, Then in the garden let us fly And play at hide and seek;

And “Here we gather Nuts and May,” “I wrote a Letter” too, “Here we go round the Mulberry Bush,” “The Child who lost its shoe”;

And every game we _ever_ played. And then--to stay alive-- Let’s end with lots of Birthday Cake Because to-day you’re five.

THE CANDLE FAIRY

The candle is a fairy house That’s smooth and round and white, And Mother carries it about Whenever it is night.

Right at the top a fairy lives, A lovely yellow one, And if you blow a little bit It has all sorts of fun.

It bows and dances by itself In such a clever way, And then it stretches very tall; “Well, _it_ grows fast,” you say.

The little chimney of the house Is black and really sweet, And there the candle fairy stands Though you can’t see its feet.

And when the dark is very big And you’ve been having dreams, Then Mother brings the candle in; How friendly like it seems!

It’s only just for Mothers that The candle Fairy comes; And if you play with it, it bites Your fingers and your thumbs.

But still you love it very much This candle Fairy, dear, Because, at night, it always means That Mother’s very near.

SONG BY THE WINDOW BEFORE BED

Little Star, little Star, Come down quick. The Moon is a bogey-man; He’ll eat you certain if he can. Little Star, little Star, Come down quick!

Little Star, little Star, Whisper “Yes.” The trees are just niggers all, They look so black, they are so tall. Little Star, little Star, Whisper “Yes.”

Little Star, little Star, Gone--all gone. The bogey-man swallowed you, The nigger trees are laughing too. Little Star, little Star, Gone--all gone.

A LITTLE BOY’S DREAM

To and fro, to and fro In my little boat I go Sailing far across the sea All alone, just little me. And the sea is big and strong And the journey very long. To and fro, to and fro In my little boat I go.

Sea and sky, sea and sky, Quietly on the deck I lie, Having just a little rest. I have really done my best In an awful pirate fight, But we captured them all right. Sea and sky, sea and sky, Quietly on the deck I lie

Far away, far away From my home and from my play, On a journey without end Only with the sea for friend And the fishes in the sea. But they swim away from me Far away, far away From my home and from my play.

Then he cried “O _Mother_ dear.” And he woke and sat upright, They were in the rocking chair, Mother’s arms around him--tight.

WINTER SONG

Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Will the Summer come again? Rain on houses, on the street, Wetting all the people’s feet. Though they run with might and main. Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow. Will the Winter never go? What do beggar children do With no fire to cuddle to, P’raps with nowhere warm to go? Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.

Hail and ice, and ice and hail, Water frozen in the pail. See the robins, brown and red, They are waiting to be fed. Poor dears; battling in the gale! Hail and ice, and ice and hail.

ON A YOUNG LADY’S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY

Baby Babbles--only one, Now to sit up has begun.

Little Babbles quite turned two Walks as well as I and you.

And Miss Babbles one, two, three Has a teaspoon at her tea.

But her Highness at four Learns to open the front door.

And her Majesty--now six, Can her shoestring neatly fix.

Babbles, Babbles, have a care, You will soon put up your hair!

SONG OF THE LITTLE WHITE GIRL

Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, what is the matter? Why are you shaking so? Why do you chatter? Because it is just a white baby you see, And it’s the black ones you like, cabbage tree?

Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, you’re a strange fellow With your green hair and your legs browny-yellow. Wouldn’t you like to have curls, dear, like me? What! No one to make them? O poor cabbage tree!

Never mind, cabbage tree, when I am taller, And if you grow, please, a little bit smaller, I shall be able by that time, may be, To make you the loveliest curls, cabbage tree.

A FEW RULES FOR BEGINNERS

Babies must not eat the coal And they must not make grimaces, Nor in party dresses roll And must never black their faces.

They must learn that pointing’s rude, They must sit quite still at table, And must always eat the food Put before them--if they’re able.

If they fall, they must not cry, Though it’s known how painful this is; No--there’s always Mother by Who will comfort them with kisses.

A DAY IN BED

I wish I had not got a cold, The wind is big and wild, I wish that I was very old, Not just a little child.

Somehow the day is very long Just keeping here, alone; I do not like the big wind’s song, He’s growling for a bone.

He’s like an awful dog we had Who used to creep around And snatch at things--he was so bad, With just that horrid sound.

I’m sitting up and nurse has made Me wear a woolly shawl; I wish I was not so afraid; It’s horrid to be small.

It really feels quite like a day Since I have had my tea; P’raps everybody’s gone away And just forgotten me.

And oh! I cannot go to sleep Although I _am_ in bed. The wind keeps going creepy-creep And waiting to be fed.

THE LONESOME CHILD

The baby in the looking-glass Is smiling through at me; She has her teaspoon in her hand, Her feeder on for tea.

And if I look behind her I Can see the table spread; I wonder if she has to eat The nasty crusts of bread.

Her doll, like mine, is sitting close Beside her special chair, She has a pussy on her lap; It must be _my_ cup there.

Her picture-book is on the floor, The cover’s just the same; And tidily upon the shelf I see my Ninepin game.

O baby in the looking glass, Come through and play with me, And if you will, I promise, dear, To eat your crusts at tea.

A FINE DAY

After all the rain, the sun Shines on hill and grassy mead; Fly into the garden, child, You are very glad indeed.

For the days have been so dull, Oh, so special dark and drear, That you told me, “Mr. Sun Has forgotten we live here.”

Dew upon the lily lawn, Dew upon the garden beds; Daintily from all the leaves Pop the little primrose heads.

And the violets in the copse With their parasols of green Take a little peek at you; They’re the bluest you have seen.

On the lilac tree a bird Singing first a little note, Then a burst of happy song Bubbles in his lifted throat.

O the sun, the comfy sun! This the song that you must sing, “Thank you for the birds, the flowers, Thank you, sun, for everything.”

EVENING SONG OF THE THOUGHTFUL CHILD

Shadow children, thin and small, Now the day is left behind, You are dancing on the wall, On the curtains, on the blind.

On the ceiling, children, too, Peeping round the nursery door, Let me come and play with you, As we always played before.

Let’s pretend that we have wings And can really truly fly Over every sort of things Up and up into the sky,

Where the sweet star children play-- It does seem a dreadful rule, They must stay inside all day. I suppose they go to school.

And to-night, dears, do you see, They are having such a race With their father moon--the tree Almost hides his funny face.

Shadow children, once at night, I was all tucked up in bed, Father moon came--such a fright-- Through the window poked his head;

I could see his staring eyes, O, my dears, I was afraid, _That_ was not a nice surprise, And the _dreadful_ noise I made!

Let us make a fairy ring, Shadow children, hand in hand, And our songs quite softly sing That we learned in fairyland.

Shadow children, thin and small, See, the day is far behind; And I kiss you--on the wall On the curtains--on the blind.

A NEW HYMN

Sing a song of men’s pyjamas, Half-past-six has got a pair, And he’s wearing them this evening, And he’s looking _such_ a dear.

Sing a song of frocks with pockets I have got one, it is so’s I can use my ’nitial hankies Every time I blow my nose.

AUTUMN SONG

Now’s the time when children’s noses All become as red as roses And the colour of their faces Makes me think of orchard places Where the juicy apples grow And tomatoes in a row.

And to-day the hardened sinner Never could be late for dinner, But will jump up to the table Just as soon as he is able, Ask for three times hot roast mutton-- Oh! the shocking little glutton.

Come then, find your ball and racket, Pop into your winter jacket, With the lovely bear-skin lining. While the sun is brightly shining, Let us run and play together And just love the autumn weather.

THE BLACK MONKEY

My Babbles has a nasty knack Of keeping monkeys on her back. A great big black one comes and swings Right on her sash or pinny strings. It is a horrid thing and wild And makes her such a naughty child.

She comes and stands beside my chair With almost an offended air And says:--“Oh, Father, why can’t I?” And stamps her foot and starts to cry-- I look at Mother in dismay ... What little girl is this, to-day?

She throws about her nicest toys And makes a truly dreadful noise Till Mother rises from her place With quite a Sunday churchy face And Babbles silently is led Into the dark and her own bed.

Never a kiss or one Goodnight, Never a glimpse of candle light. Oh, how the monkey simply flies! Oh, how poor Babbles calls and cries, Runs from the room with might and main, “Father dear, I am good again.”

When she is sitting on my knee Snuggled quite close and kissing me, Babbles and I, we think the same-- Why, that the monkey _never_ came Only a terrible dream maybe ... What did she have for evening tea?

THE PILLAR BOX

The pillar box is fat and red, The pillar box is high; It has the flattest sort of head And not a nose or eye, But just one open nigger mouth That grins when I go by.

The pillar box is very round But hungry all the day; Although it doesn’t make a sound, Folks know it wants to say, “Give me some letter sandwiches To pass the time away.”

“A postage stamp I like to eat Or gummy letterette.” I see the people on the street, If it is fine or wet, Give something to the greedy thing; They never quite forget.

The pillar box is quite a friend When Father goes away, My Mother has such lots to send, Fat letters every day, And so I drop them in its mouth When I go out to play.

THE QUARREL

We stood in the vegetable garden As angry and cross as could be ’Cause you said you wouldn’t beg pardon For eating my radish at tea.

I said, “I shall go an’ tell Mummy. I hope it is makin’ you ill. I hope you’ve a pain in your tummy, And then she will give you a pill.”

But you cried out, “Good-bye then--for ever. Go and play with your silly old toys! If you think you’re so grown up and clever, I’ll run off and play with the Boys.”

GROWN-UP TALK

Half-Past-Six and I were talking In a very grown-up way; We had got so tired with running That we did not want to play.

“How do babies come, I wonder,” He said, looking at the sky, “Does God mix the things together An’ just make it--like a pie?”

I was really not quite certain, But it sounded very nice; It was all that we could think of, Besides a book said ‘sugar and spice.’

Half-Past-Six said--he’s so clever-- Cleverer than me, I mean ... “I suppose God makes the black ones When the saucepan isn’t clean.”

THE FAMILY

Hinemoa, Tui, Maina, Ail of them were born together; They are quite an extra special Set of babies--wax and leather.

Every day they took an airing; Mummy made them each a bonnet; Two were cherry, one was yellow With a bow of ribbon on it.

Really, sometimes we would slap them, For if ever we were talking, They would giggle and be silly, Saying, “Mamma, take us walking.”

But we never really loved them Till one day we left them lying In the garden--through a hail-storm, And we heard the poor dears crying.

Half-Past-Six said--“You’re a mother! What if Mummy did forget _you_?” So I said, “Well, you’re their Father. Get them!” but I wouldn’t let you.

Transcriber’s Notes

Italic text is shown here enclosed in _underscores_.

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling inconsistences within poems were not changed, as they may be intentional.

Simple typographical errors were corrected.

Ellipses were retained as printed in the original book, whether mid-sentence, at the end of a line, or at the end of a sentence. The ellipsis in the title of the poem on page 53 is shown here with three dots, as that matches its appearance in the Table of Contents and is consistent with other ellipses in this book.