Chapter 2
"Come, while it spins round, try your luck; Come, E-thel, and Kate, and your bro-thers! On two ends two ap-ples are stuck, And an on-ion on each of the o-thers. Be ready, and snap as they pass, Be quick, if you mean to be right, Or not the sweet ap-ples, a-las! 'Twill be, but the on-ions, you'll bite."
MILK-ING TIME.
Through the long day the cows are seen All graz-ing as they go, Wan-der-ing a-long the mea-dows green Where yel-low hawk-weeds grow.
But when the clock with-in the tower Strikes five, they al-ways pace Slow-ly--for well they know the hour-- Home to the milk-ing place.
Then in the yard quite still they stand, Swing-ing their la-zy tails, Where Ann and Su-san are at hand With stools and milk-ing pails
I love to see the white milk flow, And in the pail froth up; And Ann, who is so kind, I know, Will let me fill my cup.
AU-TUMN.
"Be glad then, and re-joice in the Lord your God."--JOEL ii. 23.
'Tis au-tumn now; the corn is cut, But o-ther gifts for us are spread, The pur-ple plum, the ripe brown nut, And pears and ap-ples, streaked with red, A-mong the dark-green branch-es shine, Or on the grass be-neath them fall; While full green clus-ters deck the vine That trails o'er trel-lis, roof, and wall.
In our dear land the la-den trees Be-speak God's pro-vi-dence and love; He sends all need-ful gifts like these For those who trust in Him a-bove. How good is He to make such choice Of plea-sant fruits for us to grow! 'Tis meet, in-deed, that we re-joice In Him who loves His chil-dren so.
THE SQUIR-REL.
"Squir-rel, squir-rel, brown and brisk, High a-bove me in the tree, I can see you bound and frisk, I can see you peep at me.
"Squir-rel, squir-rel, you can play; Mer-rier beast is none than you; Yet you are not only gay, You are wise and mer-ry too.
You can play till sum-mer's o'er, And the nuts come fall-ing free, Then to hoard your win-ter store You are busy as a bee.
"Squir-rel, squir-rel, I would bound Gai-ly at my sports as you, And, like you, I would be found Care-ful for the fu-ture too."
"CON-TRA-RY WINDS"
Both Tom and Will had e-qual skill In mak-ing lit-tle boats and ships; They cut a-way a whole half day, And co-vered all the floor with chips.
And when the boys had made their toys, They thought to put them to the test-- To try which boat, when set a-float, Would sail a-cross a tub the best.
But Will and Tom, each blow-ing from A dif-fe-rent side, you well may guess, No boats could go straight on, and so They tacked a-bout in great dis-tress.
Such heavy gales a-gainst their sails Made both the boats go whirl-ing round; The sails got wet, the boats up-set, And all the crew on board were drowned.
BAT-TLE-DORE AND SHUT-TLE-COCK.
See these mer-ry chil-dren four, Now their les-son time is o'er, Deal-ing with the bat-tle-dore Steady blow on blow;
Till the fea-thered shut-tle-cocks Fly at their al-ter-nate knocks, "Re-gu-lar as kitch-en clocks," Spin-ning to and fro.
CUT-TING NAMES.
See where the spread-ing beech has made Be-neath its boughs a plea-sant shade To screen them from the sun; There George, and Anne, and Ma-ry play, Or read up-on each sun-ny day, When all their tasks are done.
George has pulled out his knife, you see, And on the smooth-barked beech-en tree Has some-thing found to do; He's carv-ing deep, and plain, and well The let-ters, one by one, which spell His name and An-nie's too.
His sis-ter An-nie, stand-ing by, Is watch-ing with a cu-ri-ous eye, And won-der-ing at his skill. To men and wo-men when they grow, They'll come and find the beech tree show Those names quite plain-ly still.
THE CON-CERT.
"See how it rains! We can-not go Our walk a-cross the fields; and so, Since Tom and Et-tie Holmes are come, And cous-in Fred has brought his drum, And some can sing, and o-thers play, We'll have a con-cert here to-day. You, Tom, must in the mid-dle stand, And mark the time, with stick in hand; You, bro-ther Ben, the tongs must take, For they will good tri-an-gles make; Hal clicks the 'bones,' and Em-me-line Will beat her lit-tle tam-bour-ine, And cous-in Fred will drum a-way, And Kate the con-cer-ti-na play. All must at-tend to Tom; and mind None play too fast, nor lag be-hind; And then, I'm sure, we all shall see How grand a con-cert this will be, And say this is the wis-est way To spend this wet Oc-to-ber day."
PLAY-ING WITH WOOD-EN BRICKS.
An In-di-an tem-ple on the floor The chil-dren build with wood-en bricks, They've placed two pil-lars by the door, And on the roof they now would fix A good tall spire, so Et-ty takes A long-er brick, and sets it there; And though when-e'er we walk it shakes, It will not tum-ble, I de-clare!
CAUGHT IN THE FOG.
Anne and Jane will long re-mem-her How, one morn-ing in No-vem-ber, As they both were home-ward stroll-ing, Round the Lon-don fog came roll-ing-- First, a yel-low dark-ness fall-ing, Then a noise of link-boys call-ing, Cab, and 'bus, and cart-wheels rum-bling, Hor-ses on the pave-ment stum-bling, Peo-ple, in the smoke and smo-ther, Run-ning up a-gainst each other, No one see-ing, much less know-ing, Whi-ther he or she was go-ing. Little Jane clung to her sis-ter, While Anne com-fort-ed and kissed her, For the girls felt bro-ken-heart-ed, Fear-ing lest they should be part-ed. So they were when Char-lie found them, Lost a-mid the crowd a-round them, But so glad when they es-pied him, And came trip-ping home beside him.
TRUST IN GOD.
"He ma-keth light-nings for the rain; He bring-eth the wind out of His trea-sur-ies."--Ps. CXXXV. 7.
Our God who reign-est up on high, Though light-nings flash a-cross the sky, And howl-ing tem-pests hur-ry by, We fear not these, for Thou art nigh To all who trust in Thee.
Though now the sky is o-ver-cast, And hea-vy rains are fall-ing fast, And storm and sleet go driv-ing past, And day by day the moan-ing blast Sweeps dead leaves from the tree,
No-vem-ber time, that seems so drear, When days are dark and win-ter near, Will pass at length, and Christ-mas cheer The last hours of the dy-ing year With song and dance and mirth.
And in due time Thy mighty pow-er Will give the spring, with sun and shower, The o-pen-ing leaf, the ear-ly flow-er, And birds in e-ve-ry wood-land bow-er Will sing to glad-den earth.
HOME FROM SCHOOL.
Come, Meg and El-len, don't com-plain, For, see, the geese en-joy the rain, And dog-gie does not fret; And yet, The drops come rol-ling down his ears, And nose, and whisk-ers, just like tears; Poor Mop, he's drip-ping wet! Our big um-brel-la co-vers three, And snug and dry we all may be, And chat-ter as we go, And show The grumb-ling peo-ple whom we meet That nei-ther wind, nor driv-ing sleet, Can spoil our tem-pers.--No, We will not take such days as this, Nor any-thing God sends, a-miss, But what we can-not cure Endure; And this will prove a Gold-en Rule To prac-tise as we walk from school-- Of that we may be sure.
THE KIT-TENS' BATH.
One day when Lil-lie saw her cat Sit down and lick a kit-ten's face; "No, puss," said she, "don't wash like that-- My bath will be the pro-per place.
"I'll show you how to wash them, puss." So in she dipped them one by one; Poor Min-nie mewed and made a fuss, But Lil-lie only thought it fun.
Puss feared her lit-tle kits would drown, And did her best to get them out; While Lil-lie dipped them up and down, And splashed the wa-ter all a-bout.
Till nurse came up and saw the mess, Took out the kit-tens, and instead Made thought-less Lil-lie quite un-dress, And have her bath and go to bed.
TURN-ING THE TRENCH-ER.
If, at this old Christ-mas game, Kate, who spins the trench-er, call Any play-er out by name, He must catch it ere it fall.
If "Move all" she should re-peat, All sit still; but if she say "Twi-light," each must change his seat, Or a for-feit he must pay.
THE WISE MEN OF THE EAST.
The East-ern sages watched the sky, They looked from night till morn, There shone a bright, new star on high, They knew that Christ was born.
Then up they rose, and came from far, They jour-neyed night and day, Led by the shin-ing of that star, And found Him where He lay.
There is not any need for us To leave our homes be-hind, Through dis-tant lands to tra-vel thus The Son of God to find.
For home to us each Christ-mas Day The new-born Sa-vi-our brings; Then shall we not our hom-age pay Like those good East-ern kings?
End of Project Gutenberg's The Infant's Delight: Poetry, by Anonymous