Part 12

Candy! Oh, my! Padoy, Just look here, will you, then? Going? Well, to-morrow Come and see us again.

SIGS VEEGS OFER.

Von’d you puy somedings, laty? I haf not solt dis tay Von shillin’s wort’. I kess maype De folks dey no forshteh.

I haf peen sigs veegs ofer, I comes vrom Cherman land, De lankuache of dis konetree I no yed ondherstand.

“Pints, neetles, rippones, laces,” All de tings vod I sells, “Pock’t-hankchies, neckdies, shpenders,” I fer mooch careful dells.

“Vod prize?” So den I dells dem. Dey shmiles. Dey no forshteh. Dis lankuache ish der drooples;— I haf do durn avay.

So habbens I sells noding; De dime koes py und py; Und oop und town I trafels— Of hunker I shall tie.

Von’d you puy somedings, laty? Oh, tanks! Der subber? Goot! It ish not since last efening I haf some leetle foot.

I bays you noding for it? Vell den, I sells you—cheap? No? Vell, I fer mooch tank you. Goot day. Got sent you sheep![8]

[8] God send you a ship; _i. e._, May you prosper.

THE CHILD ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.

Over the flowery meadow She wanders with careless feet, Chasing butterflies golden, Gathering blossoms sweet.

She talks a-while to the roses, She grasps at the sunbeams bright; To pieces she plucks the daisies, And scatters their rays of white.

“Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la!” She carols so sweet and clear, Unheeding the two great armies, Gathered in silence near—

The two great hostile armies Gathered in battle array, Watching the tiny creature Among the blossoms at play.

And never a sword is lifted, And never an order heard, As they list to the silvery accents, Like the trill of a blithesome bird.

They listen, the grim old warriors, To the voice so full of glee, Singing, “Tra, la, la, la, la, Tra, la, la, la, la, lee!”

And over the rippling tresses Do they watch the sunbeams glide, Till many a lip that quivers, The gray mustaches hide.

And many a heart beats faster, As the thoughts of those thousands stray To the little ones singing, playing, In the homes so far away;

Little ones singing, playing, Happy and gay and free, Sunny-haired little children They never again may see.

Thus do they wait in silence, Till the child to her cottage-door Creeps—as the sunshine, often, From skies that are clouded o’er.

Then—as those clouds in anger Meet with deafening din, So the two hostile armies The battle straightway begin.

That was hundreds of years since; Scarcely the records tell To which of those hostile armies The glory of winning fell.

But though ’twas hundreds of years since. There you may read, this day, How a little child, unwitting, Held them an hour at bay.

PINKETY-WINKETY-WEE.

Pinkety-winkety-wee! Ten pink fingers has she, Ten pink toes, One pink nose, And two eyes that can hardly see; And they blink and blink, and they wink and wink, So you can’t tell whether they’re blue or pink.

Pinkety-blinkety-winkety-wee! Not much hair on her head has she; She has no teeth, and she cannot talk; She isn’t strong enough yet to walk; She cannot even so much as creep; Most of the time she is fast asleep; Whenever you ask her how she feels, She only doubles her fist and squeals. The queerest bundle you ever did see Is little Pinkety-winkety-wee.

PUSS IN A QUANDARY.

The table is spread, my daughter dear, Let us just climb up—there’s no one near— And help ourselves to the best that’s here. Wouldn’t you like a piece of trout? Ow! but the bones should have been picked out. Here’s a savory dish of meat. Ah, this omelet is a treat! Don’t be dainty—a feast so gay Isn’t granted us every day. (_Enter the master—“Out of that!_ _Scamper! off with you! s-s-s-scat!”_) Oh, the wearisome life of a cat! Mew, mew, meou, ow! I think it’s curious, anyhow. Where people can come and go so free, Why, and I wonder, shouldn’t we? What’s the reason these two-legged fry Are any better than you and I?

LENA LAUGHED.

Ah, pretty Lena! why is she weeping? What has befallen? What is it creeping All the way, all the way down her pink cheeks? One little, two little, three little tearies; One little, two little, three little streaks!

One little, two little, three little brothers Out on a frolic, chasing each other— And ever and ever so many more! Quick, let us catch them—poor little dearies!— Here in this handkerchief, ere they fall o’er.

Now let us find them. Why, they have hidden! Perhaps they were fairies that came all unbidden, And ran away, frightened, when Lena laughed out. Ha, ha! how she scared them! but very queer is The change that a laugh can alone bring about.

’TIS THE APPLES.

Little kid, Frisking kid, Pretty as a fawn, Runs to me when I pass Where he lies in the grass, At the early dawn.

Little one, pretty pet, You have not forgotten yet How the other day I fed You with apples, rosy-red, By the garden wall. ’Tis for juicy apples sweet You are kneeling at my feet, ’Tis the apples you love so— Apples, and not me, I know, Oh, not me at all!

FOOLED.

After the long and merry day, Little cousin, tired of play, Has fallen asleep in the rocking-chair. Soft, let me whisper in her ear— There are better places to rest, my dear; Come, let us go up-stair.

She doesn’t waken. Now, eyes so bright, Under a curtain, out of sight, Cannot I get a glimpse of you? Creep, creep, creep, mouse, creep, Cautiously up the dimpled cheek— Peek, peek-a-boo, boo!

Not a glimpse! Now, then, little girl, I’ll tickle your ear with this stray curl, This curl of your tangled hair. Now I’ll count the dimples: One, two, three— “Ha! ha!”—you rogue, you were fooling me! Fooling me, I declare!

A NEW TOY.

Sunshine dances on the floor; Baby reaches after; Golden toy, ne’er touched before, Wakens smiles and laughter.

Mighty orb, so wondrous bright, Human gaze defying, The round earth with warmth and light Lavishly supplying;

Making green the forest wide, Blue the ocean’s billow, And the rosy eventide Meet to be thy pillow;

Clothing vale and slope and plain With rare blossom-treasure, Purpling grape and rip’ning grain For the people’s pleasure;

Driving chill and gloom away, Wheresoe’er they may be;— Lo, thou bringest, god of day, Playthings for a baby.

CHARLEY ON HORSEBACK.

“_I had a little hobby-horse._”

Rock away! rock away! Here we go All on a journey— Kee! ki—oh!

Over the mountains, Over the sea, Rock away, rock away, Here are we!

Now we’re in China, Now we’re in Spain, Now we’re in Texas, Now we’re in Maine.

Now we’re in London, Now we’re in Rome— Here we are back again, Safe at home!

Look at us, look at us, Tim and me! No greater travelers Will you see.

Can’t stop for questions, Oh, no, no! Rock away, rock away, Off we go!

CRUEL!

She tried to scratch out both my eyes (It is true!) Tried to pull off both my ears, My nose, too; Scolded me—I thought she said She would leave upon my head Not a solitary hair— Meant it, laughing—didn’t care!

Well, it rather hurt, but I Murmured not, nor made outcry; Let her pull, and scratch, and scold; (She is only six months old).

CLUCK, CLUCK!

Cluck, cluck! come under my wings, All you poor little shivering things! It’s cloudy above and muddy below; The rain pours down and the four winds blow. Too bad the weather’s so damp and cold, And you, poor chicks, but three days old! You haven’t much chance, that I can see; But cluck, cluck! come hither to me. Yellow, and Brownie, and Tan, and White, Blackie and Spot—yes, six—that’s right. Cluck, cluck! hide under my wings, And I’ll keep you warm, you poor little things.

BOBBIE AND THE BEE.

“_Hark, the bee winds its small but mellow horn._”

All roun’ de flowers, you pwitty fly, All roun’ de flowers an’ me, You sing so loud! Dess reason why— You’s happy as tan be. Bet I tan tatch you if I try. Zere! now I’s dot you, see! Boo-hoo! Do ’way, you udly fly! What for you bited me?