What thing your hand is doing, or mine, So long shall live and so bright shall shine? The dear Lord only knows! But shall we not try some work to do, That shall sweetly bloom all the long years through, Like the hundred year old rose? JIM'S JOURNEY. GEORGE COOPER. Unhappy Jim cried for the Moon- He stretched out his wee rosy hand, A fairy was passing that way, She heard the spoilt baby's "boo-hoo," On a very long journey, indeed, Up, up, 'mid the stars, like a flash, Did they dash. The "Little Bear" wondered and growled, Bright stars swarmed around them like bees. "One of these I think I'd prefer, Fairy good, Instead of the Moon, it you would. Do stop. I'll take home to Mamma Away! for the good Fairy heard Then lo! 'mid the bright, blinding glare, They wandered o'er valley and hill, But all was so lonely, in spite Of mountains and rivers of light. 'I think I'd choose dull Earth instead," Jim said. "There's no home, there's no mother here. Dear, oh dear. Oh! please take me back, Fairy sweet; I'll pay you when I am a man "I'll just wish you there in a wink The Fairy said, spreading her wings. THE SPARROW'S MAY-DAY. ALFRED NELSON. Said Mr. Sparrow to his wife, One morning in the early spring: "Dear Mrs. S-, upon my life, I've come across the grandest thing"A brand-new house, with floors to let, A mansard roof, and all complete! We'll take a floor to-day, my pet, And you must keep it nice and neat." "The situation is tip-top- The windows where the crumbs do fall." So off they flew, in haste, to see Scarce knowing what they were about. Good Mrs. S-, with straw in mouth, "The sun will warm both eggs and me." But Mr. Sparrow did declare The sun would surely scorch her there; At last they settled with each other They both flew up, they both flew down, With thread and rags and bits of straw; They were the busiest birds in town, At last the nest is all complete, And Mrs. Sparrow stays inside, And keeps the house so nice and neat, And when the little birds appear Won't Mr. Sparrow hop and sing, And say to Mrs. S――: "My dear, Our brand-new house is just the thing!" MY-MOTHER-WANTS-ME.* [For Dandelion Time.] BY M. B. C. S. [Recite with a handful of Dandelion balls, blowing them at second and third stanzas.] The dandelions were going to seed, Their soft globes shining all over the mead ; But little Nell, sorrowful, turning aside, So I said, "Little Nelly, take one and blow, THE FATE OF A FACE MAKER. MARGARET VANDEGRIFT. It was once upon a time-but that time I cannot say- And, to make the matter worse, nearly everything displeased her. *All the children know the "My-mother-wants-me" sign. They blow the dandelion globes three times, and if the seeds go off, their mother wants them. She did not like to get up, and she hated to go to bed; She did not like to read, and she hated to hear things said; Her loving parents thought some fairy had bewitched her; They reasoned with her long, and finally they switched her; But the more they switched her and reasoned, the worse their darling grew, Until they owned to each other, they didn't know what to do. It was just about this time she went for a walk one day, So she strayed away from home as far as ever she could, There was the face she made to frighten her little brother, And a worse one still she made when she would not mind her mother. And as she looked around, they still grew worse and worse · There was every horrid face she had ever made at her nurse. And many more beside-she'd done it for years, you see, She turned and ran, poor thing, as well as she could for fright, They sent her to an asylum at once, but there, alas! When they opened her door next day, there was nothing in the place But a broken looking glass, and a terribly ugly Face! |