A Jolly Jingle-Book | Page 8

run before we're done,
For the birthday horse and me!
NANCY BYRD TURNER.
A DUTCH WISH
The little Dutch children,

With little Dutch shoes,
Go clitter-clatter


Wherever they choose.
But we must move lightly,
In slippers, at that,
And walk on our
tip-toes,
And go like a cat.
But, oh, noise is lovely!
We wish very much
That we were Dutch
children
With shoes that were Dutch.
[Illustration: The Dutch Wish]
A SIGN OF SPRING
The blue-bird is a-wing;
he has heard the call of spring;
And a dozen times this morning
I have heard a robin sing;
But I know a sign that's surer,
and I see the twinkling feet
Of a score of little children
at the corner of the street.
The crocus-bed's abloom;
in the shadow of my room
Glows a vase of golden jonquils
like a star amid the gloom;
But the sign that's sure and certain
is the children's merry feet
Dancing round the organ-grinder
at the corner of the street.
Song of bird or hum of bee,
there's no sign of spring for me
Like the jolly little dancers
and the frolic melody;
And my heart shall catch the rhythm

of the happy little feet
Dancing round the organ-grinder
at the corner of the street.
MY DOLLY
There's nothing so nice as dolly!
She comforts me when I'm sad,

She keeps me from getting lonely,
She smiles at me when I'm glad.

She's such a delightful playmate,
And causes me so much joy,
I
wouldn't exchange her for all the toys
That people give to a boy.
ANNIE WILLIS MCCULLOUGH.
ONE MILE TO TOYLAND
"One mile, one mile to Toyland!"
Just s'pose, to your intense

Astonishment, you found this sign
Plain written on a fence.
Just one
short mile to Toyland,
To happy girl and boy-land,
Where one can
play the livelong day!
Now who will hurry hence?
There dollies grow on bushes,
And
wooden soldiers stand
With frisky rocking-horses near,
A brave and
dauntless band;
And whips and tops and whistles
They grow as
thick as thistles,
And every kind of toy you find--
A strange and
magic land!
"Only a mile to Toyland!"
How big your eyes would grow,
And
how you'd come and stand stock-still
To read it, in a row;
Then,
brother, girls, and maybe
The puppy and the baby,
You'd make that
mile in little while,
And find that land, I know!
NANCY BYRD TURNER.
A BATH-TUB JOKE
Clean and sweet from head to feet
Is Jerry, but not his twin.
"Now

for the other!" says merry mother,
And quickly dips him in.
Jim and
Jerry, with lips of cherry,
And eyes of the selfsame blue;
Twins to a
speckle, yes, even a freckle--
What can a mother do?
They wink
and wriggle and laugh and giggle--
A joke on mother is nice!
"We
played a joke,"--'twas Jimmie who spoke,--
"And you've washed the
same boy twice!"
HER OWN WAY
When Polly goes into the parlor to play,
She never minds what the
little notes say,
Nor peeps at a music-book;
"I play by ear," says the
little dear
(When some of us think the music's queer),
"So why
should I need to look?"
When Polly goes into the kitchen to cook,
She never looks at a
cookery-book,
Nor a sign of a recipe;
It's a dot of this and a dab of
that,
And a twirl of the wrist and a pinch and a pat--
"I cook by
hand," says she.
THE MONTH OF MAY
It comes just after April,
And right before 'tis June;
And every bird
that's singing
Has this same lovely tune:
You needn't ask your
mother
To let you go and play;
The very breezes whisper,
"You
may! You may! You may!"
There are no frosts to freeze you,
And no fierce winds to blow;
But
winds that seem like kisses,
So soft and sweet and slow;
The lovely
sun is shining
'Most every single day.
Of course you may go out,
dears--
It is the _month_ of "May"!
THE BIRTHDAY
Bring the birthday-marker!
That's the way to show
How much I've
been growing

Since a year ago.

All my last year's dresses
Are too short for me;
This one--with the
tucks out--
Only to my knee!
Grandpa rubs his glasses;
Whispers, "Yes, indeed!
How that child is
growing--
Growing like a weed!"
Mother's word is sweetest:
"Yes, in sun and shower
She's been
growing, growing,
Growing like a flower!"
BABY'S PLAYTHINGS
Ten cunning little playthings
He never is without--
His little
wiggle-waggle toes
That carry him about.
They look so soft and pinky,
And good enough to eat!
How lucky
that the little toes
Are fastened to his feet!
Ten little pinky playthings
He cannot eat or lose;
Except when
Nursey hides them all
In little socks and shoes.
WHEN IT RAINS
We don't mind rainy days a bit,
my brother Ted and I;
There's such a lot of games to play
before it comes blue sky.
Sometimes we play I'm Mrs. Noah,
and Ted's Methusalem!
I put him in his little box and
hand his little drum
(There has to be some way, you see,
to let the Ark-folks know
That Father Noah expects them all,
and where they are to go)
And then they come by twos and twos,
and twos and twos and _twos_,
Till trotting with them 'cross the floor

'most wears out my new shoes.
They all go in, and when it's time,