A Jolly Jingle-Book | Page 4

broom,?And sweep and sweep the pretty rugs that lie in mamma's room. And then I sweep the door-steps off, and do not leave a crumb, And wipe the dishes, too, and oh, it is the bestest fun!?And then, when mamma starts to bake, she says that maybe I Can make all by my very self a cunning little pie.?When I am big enough for school I think I'll like to go,?But truly I would rather stay at home, you know,?And help my mamma do the work, and bake a little pie,?For mamma says all little girls, if they would only try,?Can help their mammas very much with willing hands and feet, By sweeping rugs and door-steps and keeping porches neat. So I am mamma's housemaid, and she pays me with a kiss,?And papa, when he comes at night, says, "Bless me, what is this! How bright and clean the rugs do look!" And then I laugh and say That my little broom and I work for mamma every day.
HARRIET CROCKER LEROY.
TOYS
Toys have a bedtime, too.?Oh, but it's really true!?This is what you should do,--
Just as the sun sinks low,?Off to bed make them go,?Laid in a tidy row.
There let them rest all night,?Sleep until morning light,?Then wake when day shines bright.
ALICE VAN LEER CARRICK.
THE BATH
It always has seemed queer to me,?When I give Bess a bath?In our big, shiny, new, white tub,?She shorter grows by half.
But when I take her out again?She hasn't changed at all.?If you have doubts of what I say,?Just try it with your doll!
REBECCA DEMING MOORE.
NAP-TIME
Rock-a-bye me! Rock-a-bye me!?I'm just as tired as I can be.?We've swung and swung as high as the sky,?Then slower, to let the "old cat die;"?We played we were grasshoppers--hippity-hop?The grasshoppers go, and they never stop;?And then we played kangaroo--just look,?The way they do in the picture-book!?And then--I want to get on your knee!?Rock-a-bye me! Rock-a-bye me!
F. LILEY-YOUNG.
CHUMS
We're chums, and we love it---dear father and I!?He's tall and grown-up, of course--ever so high!?But _you_ don't mind that, though you're little as me;?He always stoops down, or you sit on his knee?When you're chums.
We go for long walks--he says, "Now for a hike!"--?With beautiful talks about things that I like;?Some folks do not care about beetles and toads?And little green snakes that you find in the roads,?But we're chums.
Sometimes mother gets into trouble with me;?She tells him about it, and he says, "I see!"?His arm gets around me, and pretty soon, then,?I'm telling him I'll never do it again,?'Cause we're chums.
We tell all our secrets, and when things go bad?And worry-lines come in his face, I look glad?And get him a-laughing, and smooth them away.?He says, "Little Partner, it's your turn today!"?So we're chums.
A TOUCH OF NATURE
A little maid upon my knee?Sighs wearily, sighs wearily;?"I'm tired out of dressin' dolls,?And havin' stories read," says she.
"There _is_ a book, if I could see,?I should be happy, _puffickly_!?My mamma keeps it on a shelf--?'But _that_ you cannot have,' says she!"
"But here's your Old Man of the Sea,?And Jack the Giant!" (Lovingly?I tried the little maid to soothe.)?"The _interestin'_ one," says she,
"Is that high-up one!--seems to me?The fings you want just has to be?Somethin' you hasn't got; and _that's_?The interestin' one!" says she.
A LESSON IN NATURAL HISTORY
"Now who can tell," the teacher said,?"Who the five members be?(The one who knows may go to the head)?Of the cat family?"
"I guess I know as much as that,"?Cried the youngest child in glee;?"The father cat and the mother cat,?And the baby kittens three!"
PICTURE-BOOK TIME
Whenever the rain-drops come pattering down,?And the garden's too dripping for play,?Whenever poor nursie's determined to frown,?Or mother dear's just gone away,?Then up to the nursery book-shelves we climb,?For trouble time's always a picture-book time!
When some one's been naughty, and some one is sad,?When the new walking bear will not go,?When the kitten is lost or the puppy is bad,?When Mary hates learning to sew,?Then up to the nursery book-shelves we climb,?For trouble time's always a picture-book time!
And there in the pictures the world seems so gay,?And everything always goes right.?The gardens are sunny, the children at play,?There's seldom a picture-book night.?No wonder we love to sit cosily curled,?Forgetting our woes in the picture-book world.
The dear, merry pages! we know them so well,?And when they are folded away,?Our troubles have vanished as if by a spell,?And nothing is wrong with the day.?The nursery book-shelves are easy to climb,?And no time is better than picture-book time!
HANNAH G. FERNALD.
THE TOPSY-TURVY DOLL
Topsy-Turvy came to me?On our last year's Christmas tree.?She is just the queerest doll,?Much the strangest of them all.?Now you see her, cheeks of red,?Muslin cap upon her head,?Bright blue eyes and golden hair,?Never face more sweet and fair.?Presto! change! She's black as night,?Woolly hair all curling tight,?Coal-black eyes, thick lips of red,?Bright bandanna on her head.?She's