Part 4

But dainty Miss Rose Still tossed up her nose-- She oughtn't, she couldn't, She wouldn't, she shouldn't With one of them go, She'd thank 'em to know.

By this time it was growing late, And dainty Rose bemoaned her fate; When, in the sky, there sprang in sight A throbbing, sparkling thing of light. "What's that," she cried, "I see afar?" And Guy replied, "The great Dog Star--

Too Sirius, dear, for such as you, And very much above you, too." "Not so, indeed!" cried dainty Rose, No longer tossing up her nose. "Now, I am matched at last, you see, The Dog Star shall my escort be!"

Then off she started, quite content, And gallantly the Dog Star went. For all the way he kept in sight, And held her in his tender light, Guiding her steps with steady rays, And blinking when he met her gaze.

POOR little mousie, what a mishap! Why did you put your nose in the trap? Hold still, mousie, and trust to me-- I'll touch the spring, and set you free!

WAITING FOR FATHER.

In the gray of the twilight and glow of the fire, A little girl sat on the rug. She was warming a slipper; and pussy sat nigh her, And also her friend, Mr. Pug. And the song in the heart of the glad little girl, As the light of the fire played over each curl, Was, "Father is coming--hurrah! hurrah! Father is coming--hurrah!"

She had spread out his soft woolen gown on the chair, With its facings of beautiful blue; Had picked up her playthings that lay here and there, And arranged things as well as she knew. "For the room must be tidy and pretty and bright," She said to herself, "when he comes, every night, And soon he is coming--hurrah! hurrah! Father is coming--hurrah!"

How rosy her cheeks, and how sparkling her eyes! How dimpled her soft little hand! While Pussy and Pug look as solemn and wise As if the whole scene they had planned. But you never would think, so demure are the three, That the little maid's heart could be singing with glee, "Father is coming--hurrah! hurrah! Father is coming--hurrah!" The sunlight has vanished, and bleak is the street, And beggars are dreading the night. The pavement is noisy with home-speeding feet, And only the windows are bright; When quickly the little maid springs from the rug, Leaving Pussy half sleeping, but followed by Pug; "Father is coming--hurrah! hurrah! Father is coming--hurrah!"

WHAT SHALL I BUY?[1]

I've got a penny, What shall I buy? I'll buy a--whistle, That's what I'll buy.

I've got two pence, What shall I buy? I'll buy a--pop-gun, That's what I'll buy.

I've got three pence, What shall I buy? I'll buy a--horsey, That's what I'll buy.

[1] The charm of this thrilling ditty lies in allowing baby to suggest the last word of the third lines.

RUT-A-TUT-TUTS! Who can crack nuts? Squirrels, can you? "That we can, true-- Rut-a-tut-tuts, We can crack nuts!"

Chicketty-chack, Cracketty-crack. "Pooh!" said the hammer, "Silence your clamor, Rut-a-tut-tuts-- Who can't crack nuts?"

HALLOO, OLD SCUTTLE!

HALLOO, old scuttle! good old soul, What's become of all your coal? "Why the tongs he came with a gobbledy-gun, And took my coals out, one by one; And the blaze ran in with a tricksy-spire And set the pretty things a-fire; And the blower came with a roaring-roar, And made them burn up more and more; And then the poker with koppitty-hop, He poked their ashes and made 'em drop-- And that, O Gobbledy-Koppitty-dole! Is what's become of all my coal."

OH, NO!

IF blue-birds bloomed like flowers in a row, And never could make a sound, How would the daisies and violets know When to come out of the ground! They would wait and wait the seasons round; Never a flower could on earth be found. And what would birds and butterflies do If the flowers had wings to fly? Why, birds and blossoms, and butterflies too, Would stay far up in the sky; And then the people would droop and sigh, And all the children on earth would cry.

THE SAND MAN.

OHO! but he travels the country over, The queer little, kind little, elfish rover! Lightly he bears in his tricksome hand A silvery horn full of sleepy sand, Shaking it here, and shaking it there, Till the blossoms nod in the drowsy air; Till the sunlight creeps up hill to bed, Or slips through the sky where clouds are red; Till the lambkins bleat a soft "good-night!" And birds grow still in the tree-tops bright, While sweet little eyelids, all over the land, Droop with the weight of the silvery sand.

Oho! Oho! where the Sand Man goes Every one wonders and nobody knows; For just when the right time comes to peep, Little and big are falling asleep. He steals to the cradles, the cribs, the beds, And sprinkles his sand over children's heads, Till bright little faces lie warm and still, Smiling or grave, at the Sand Man's will. He catches them often at full midday, And bids them stop in their merry play-- With a "Ho! my darling," "Hi! my dear," "I'll sing a dream-song into your ear."

Some on the carpet, some on the chairs, Some curled up on the nursery stairs; Some in the grass where the shadows play, Some hidden deep in the fragrant hay, And some who, folded in mother's embrace, Float in a lullaby, pressing her face. Oho! but he travels the country over, The queer little, kind little, elfish rover! And whence he comes, and whither he goes, Every one wonders, and nobody knows; For just when the right time comes to peep, All the children are falling asleep.

TROUBLE IN THE GREENHOUSE.

THREE big cats in a greenhouse. Oh! they look so meek, So sage and sleek, That but for the clash And the sudden crash, And the broken pots Of forget-me-nots, And upset roses, And dingy noses, And draggled vines, And tangled twines, And broken pink, You'd never think What a fearful fuss And hopeless muss Could be made in a hurry And velvet flurry By three meek cats in a greenhouse.

TEN KINDS.

WINNIE WHINEY, all things grieve her; Fannie Fibber, who'd believe her? Lotty Loozem, late to school, sir; Albert Allplay, quite a fool, sir; Kitty Kissem, loved by many, Georgy Grump, not loved by any. Ralphy Ruff--beware his fist, sir! Tillie Tattle, like a blister, Gus Goodaction, bright and cheery, Sammy Selfish, sour and dreary. Do you know them, as I've sung them? Easy 'tis to choose among them.

HAVE YOU APPLES?

"HAVE you apples, good grocer?" "O yes, ma'am, how many?" "How do you sell them, Sir?" "Two for a penny."

"I'll have two, Mr. Grocer, They're good for my baby; Send 'em home in an hour, Sir." "That I will, lady."

THERE was an old woman of Wigg, Who fattened her favorite pig. "I'll eat him," she said, "From his tail to his head"-- This greedy old woman of Wigg.

THERE was a brave knight of Lorraine, Who hated to give people pain. "I'll skeer them," he said, "But won't kill 'em dead"-- This noble young knight of Lorraine.

THERE was an old doctor of Brille, Who gave all his patients a pill. "It will cure 'em," he said, Or else kill 'em dead"-- This skillful old doctor of Brille.

FAIRY TALES.

"'Et me see," thought little May, Waking from her slumber, "How many 'tories do I know? Oh, a mons'rous number! First Cin'rella with her shoe, All d'essed up so sp'ended; "'Es, an' naughty B'ue Beard too, Always gettin' 'fended; 'Fended with his wives he was, All account of keys, Then a-comin' back to say 'DIE MA'AM! on your knees!' Oh my! if she hadn't had Her faithful sister Ann, No one ever would have come To kill that wicked man!

Then the Bean-stalk--that was nice! Wis' I'd one this minute, Guess, though, I'd be most af'aid-- Might be giants in it. Wonder if I was to be Jack the Giant-killer Nursey'd be af'aid o' me? Why, I wouldn't kill her! Not unless she combed too hard-- Then I'd shake my axe Jus' a 'ittle--wis' I had A real one jus' like Jack's. Wis' I had a pair o' boots Like Puss, who went a-walkin'! Wis' I had a Pussy too, Sittin' up a-talkin'. I wouldn't like to go get lost Like 'ittle Hop my T'umb 'Way 'n the forest (don't I wish My mamma'd only come!) A'most makes me feel af'aid T'inkin' 'bout 'em now; Gettin' lef' that way I t'ink Was dreffle, any how;-- But, oh, the chil'ren in the wood, They must have been so f'ightened

A-list'nin, to the t'under, or A-watchin' when it lighten'd. Don't see why they didn't go; Maybe, though, they couldn't-- _My_ Uncle wouldn't t'eat me so, Uncle Rodney wouldn't. Maybe in the mornin', too, They heard a lion roarin'-- Here comes Nursey! now I'll play I'm fast as'eep, a-snorin'.

OLD Can-an'-must is a giant bold, But one thing scares him, I've been told; "I'm afraid when a youngster wastes his crust, He'll never be thrifty," says Can-an'-must.

Old Can-an'-must is a giant bold, And only one thing makes him scold: "If I catch a youngster leaving a crust, I'll gobble him up!" says Can-an'-must.

MOTHERLESS.

"I wish she had not died," she said, The words were soft and low; "Most little girls like me, papa, Have dear mammas, you know.

"There's Lulu Hart, next door. I think It's nice to live that way; With some one sitting at the blinds To watch you while you play;

"I often see her look up quick, And smile at some one there; And when she laughs and hides away, She knows some one will care.

"Why didn't Doctor Bishop cure My mother, dear papa? That's what he did one time, you know, For Lulu Hart's mamma.

"Say, papa, was God good to take My own mamma away? For I was just a baby then-- Papa, why don't you say?"

"Yes, always good," he sobbed. "Mamma Is very happy, dear." His little girl sprang up, nor cared Another word to hear.

"Why, papa! crying? Please don't cry. Do you feel sorry, too? Now, papa, see; I never meant I didn't care for you.

"If mamma's happy in the sky-- You told me so before-- We mustn't cry. I think it's wrong To want her any more.

"Laugh, papa, quick! I'll pull your hair! I'll kiss your funny nose; Laugh, quick, for Minnie; else I'll try To jump right on your toes.

"Poor eyes! all wet. I'll kiss them dry. What's in your pocket? See. Oh! where's your watch? Now, won't you please Just make it tick for me?

"It's nice to have a dear papa. (How big it is, and bright. I hear it ticky, ticky, tick. It's very loud to-night.)

"Ride me to Banbury Cross, papa! Now, don't you let me fall. When I was littler, how I slipped! I couldn't keep on at all.

"Oh! there's the tea-bell. Now you've tossed My hair like everything! I'll toss yours too. Oho! Oho! You look just like a king--

"For kings have crowns, you know, papa, And your hair's standing straight. I knew you'd laugh! There, now, you're good-- Come quick, and show Aunt Kate."

Aunt, at the table, glanced at one, And then glanced at the other; She could not guess what hidden thing Had happened to her brother.

His shining hair stood like a crown, His smile was warm and bright; "Why, John," she said, "you really seem Like your old self to-night."

OLD SIMON.

OLD SIMON and his boys were glad, To take the plainest fare; They brightened everything they had, With gratitude and prayer.

"Give thanks," said Simon, "when ye rise, Give thanks when day is done." And none than Simon were more wise, Or happy, under the sun.

THE LITTLE MOTE.

A LITTLE mote lived in a sunbeam, And danced in its light all day; But she jumped with surprise one morning, At hearing the housemaid say:--

"Oh, the dust! How it keeps one a-working! It settles all over the room-- And the air is so full, it is folly To labor with duster and broom!"

"Poor thing!" sighed the mote, "well, I'm sorry. I think I'll go hide in her hair-- I'm such a wee speck of a dustlet She never will know I am there."

WHEN I was little, Thought I was big; Now I'm a giant, Don't care a fig.

When I was nobody, Felt quite a chap; Now that I'm somebody, Don't care a snap.

WHAT makes baby brave and bright? Angels guard him day and night.

THE ALPHABET.

LITTLE boys with pockets, Little boys with none, Little bright-eyed lassies Gather, every one! Crowd around me closely. Would you master books? You must first discover How each letter looks.

=A= has a bar Where a fairy might ride;

=B= is a post With two loops at the side.

=C= might be round If a piece you would lend;

=D= is a buck-saw Standing on end.

=E= has a peg In the middle, they say;

=F= is an E With the bottom away.

=G= is like C, With a block on one end;

=H= has a seat That would hold you, depend.

=I= is so straight It would do for a prop;

=J= is a crook With a bar at the top.

=K= is a stick With a crotch fastened to it.

=L= is a roost, If the chickens but knew it.

=M= has four parts, As you quickly may see;

=N=, the poor fellow! Is made out of three.

=O= is so round It would do for a hoop;

=P= is a stick With a top like a loop.

=Q= to be curly Is constantly trying;

=R= is like B, With the bottom loop flying.

=S= is a snake, All crooked and dread;

=T= is a pole With a bar for a head.

=U= it is plain, Would make a good swing;

=V= is as sharp As a bumble-bee's sting.

=W= ought To be called double-V;

=X= is a cross, As you plainly can see;

=Y= is just formed Like a V on a stand;

=Z= is the crookedest Thing in the land!

EARLY to bed and early to rise: If _that_ would make me wealthy and wise I'd rise at daybreak, cold or hot, And go back to bed at once. Why not?

THE COOK'S LITTLE BOY.

A REAL apple-pudding for Mammy and me! A-boiling as hard as I ever did see! O Mammy! I'm going to jump up and look, And tell the old pudding to hurry and cook.

Is it looking in, Mammy, that hinders the boil? Well, I'd feel very bad for my pudding to spoil; So I'll cover it up, like a good little son, And play on the floor till you tell me it's done.

There's the chil'ren up-stairs--they're dressed up so fine, But their pudding's no better than Mammy's and mine. Oh! isn't it nice when your Mammy's the cook, And whenever you want you can climb up and look!

HARRY.

HURRAH for the bouncer, exactly fourteen; The blithest old schoolboy that ever was seen, Hurrah for the Harry who went by, this way, Last Valentine's eve, _thirteen_ and a day!

There was Harry, aged _twelve_, I remember him well A hawk from a hernshaw he always could tell; And Harry, _eleven_--ah! how he would fiddle And scrape with his bow from the end to the middle.

Then the bold boy of _ten_ that my Harry appeared, A few years ago, when the war-mists were cleared; A chubby young fellow he flourished at _nine_, A right chubby fellow, this Harry of mine.

At _eight_ he was slender; at _seven_, quite fat; At _six_ he was saucy--depend upon that! At _five_ he put on his first trowsers and jacket; At _four_ who could match him for making a racket?

At _three_ the young rascal was always in trouble; At _two_ he was teething (his front teeth, and double); At _one_ he was precious and something to carry, And the year before that there was never a Harry!

THREE WAYS.

"HOW sweet," said the swan, "To glide and plash! And not, like a frog, To dive and dash."

"How fine," said the frog, "To dive and dash! And not, like a swan, To glide and plash."

"But better than either To float with grace," A pond lily whispered, "Yet keep your place."

TOM of Clapham used to say He loved his mother dearly; Yet he vexed her sorely every day-- Does that strike you queerly?

WHAT THEY SAY.

WHAT does the drum say? "Rub-a-dub-dub! Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub! Pound away, bub! Make as much racket as ever you can. Rub-a-dub! rub-a-dub! Go it, my man!"

What does the trumpet say? "Toot-a-toot-too! Toot-a-toot, toot-a-toot! Hurrah for you! Blow in this end, sir, and hold me out, so. Toot-a-toot! toot-a-toot! Why don't you blow?"

What does the whip say? "Snaperty-snap! Call _that_ a crack, sir--flipperty flap! Up with the handle, and down with the lash. Snaperty! snaperty! Done in a flash."

What does the gun say? "Put in my stick, I'm a real pop-gun. Fire me quick! See that you fire in nobody's eye. Steady! my manikin. Now let it fly!"

What does the sword say? "Swishy-an-swish! Flash in the sunlight, and give me a wish. Wish I was real, sir--cut 'em in bits! Wouldn't I scare all the world into fits!"

What do they _all_ say, trumpet and gun, Whip, sword, and drum-stick? "Hurrah for fun! Babies no longer, but stout little men, Racket forever! and racket again!"

ONE step--two step, Three step--four. Who says my baby Can't travel the floor? Five step--six step-- Seven step--eight! Now shall my baby Rest him in state!

MELONS.

MELONS! melons! All day long Joe's mother sits Selling melons. "Ho! ripe and rich!" Is her song, All day long Selling melons.

Melons! melons! All day long, Joe walks the street Selling melons. "Ho! ripe and sweet!" Is his song, All day long Selling melons.

HOW MANY THINGS IN MY POCKET?

TAP at your brain and unlock it, Then count all the things in my pocket: A nail and a screw, A screw-driver, too; A cent and a dollar, A tumbled-up collar; A neck-tie and glove, A note from my love; Two peppermint-drops, A couple of tops; A buckle, a ball, The head of a doll; A top-snare, of course, A six-penny horse; Four pins, always handy, And three sticks of candy; Ten nuts and a pen, A squirt--and what then? Why, my knife, to be sure, And an old wooden skewer; That's all--oh! a string, A galvanized ring; A pistol (but no one could cock it), And that's all I had in my pocket.

THE GALLANT OUTRIDERS.

"WHERE have you been, my children; Where have you been, I pray?" "Oh, but we've been a-riding, A-riding the live-long day."

"And how did you ride, my darlings; And where did all of you go?" "We all of us went on horseback, A-galloping in a row.

"Jack had the whole of the saddle; I held on to the tail; And Leslie, under the fore-feet, Managed to ride the rail;

"Jackey galloped and cantered,-- Played he galloped, I mean; For Les. and I did the rocking, And Jack just rode between.

"Oh, didn't our animal caper As he hitched himself along! We might have kept on forever, If they'd only made him strong.

"But when I pitched on the carpet, His tail so tight in my hand, And Les. from the rail fell kicking, Why, horsey came to a stand.

"If Les. had only kept quiet, We might have played we were dead; I don't see the sense in yelling Because you have bumped your head.

"Jackey held on like a good one, And looked as fine as a fiddle,-- But it's nothing to ride a-horseback If a fellow is on the middle."

"BUSY bee! busy bee! Where is your home?" "In truth, pretty maiden, I live in a comb."

"And you, little Rabbit, Where do you rush?" "I rush to my home, dear, Under the brush!"

DOBBIN'S FRIEND.

DOBBIN has a little friend, Spotted white and sable; Every day she goes to him, In his lonely stable.

Not a might of dread has she, Not a thought of danger; Lightly runs between his hoofs, Jumps upon his manger;

Lays her soft, warm cheek to his, Purrs her meek "Good morning!" Gives the flies that hover near, _Such_ a look of warning!

"Dobbin, dear," she sometimes says, "Feel my winter mittens; Nice and warm, you see, and made Purposely for kittens.

"Dobbin, dear, such times at home! Mother has caught a rat! Brought it home to show to us-- What do you think of that?"

"Dobbin!" she whispers, purring still, "You often get so weary, Why don't you balk or run away, And get your freedom, dearie?"

Then Dobbin gives his head a toss, And says, "For shame, Miss Kitty! If I could do so mean a thing, 'Twould be a monstrous pity.

"No, no; my master's good and kind; I'll never vex him, never!" And pussy, pleased, still rubs his cheek, And likes him more than ever.

THE WAY TO DO IT.

I'LL tell you how I speak a piece: First, I make my bow; Then I bring my words out clear And plain as I know how.

Next, I throw my hands up _so_! Then I lift my eyes-- That's to let my hearers know Something doth surprise.

Next, I grin and show my teeth, Nearly every one; Shake my shoulders, hold my sides: That's the sign of fun.

Next I start and knit my brow, Hold my head erect: Something's wrong, you see, and I Decidedly object.

Then I wabble at my knees, Clutch at shadows near, Tremble well from top to toe: That's the sign of fear.

Now I start, and with a leap Seize an airy dagger. "WRETCH!" I cry. That's tragedy, Every soul to stagger.

Then I let my voice grow faint, Gasp and hold my breath; Tumble down and plunge about: That's a villain's death.

Quickly then I come to life, Perfectly restored; With a bow my speech is done. Now you'll please applaud.

WILLY AND HIS PIPE.

WILLY lay by the dimpling brook, Where the sun had lain before; And, strange to say, when its place he took, The spot just brightened the more.