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If I were up there,

With you and my friends,

I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see;
I'd sit in the middle

And hold by both ends;

Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be!

I would call to the stars

To keep out of the way,

Lest we should rock over their toes;
And then I would rock

Till the dawn of the day,

And see where the pretty moon goes.

And there we would stay

In the beautiful skies,

And thro' the bright clouds we would roam;
We would see the sun set,

And see the sun rise,

And on the next rainbow come home!



[To be recited in a spirited manner.]

"Can't-do-it" sticks in the mud; but "Try" soon drags the wagon out of the rut. The fox said "Try," and he got away from the hounds when they almost snapt at him. The bees said "Try," and turned flowers into honey. The squirrel said "Try," and up he went to the top of the beech tree. The snowdrop said "Try," and bloomed in the cold snows of winter. The sun said "Try," and the spring soon throw Jack Frost out of the saddle. The young lark said "Try," and he found that his new wings soon took him over hedges and ditches, and up to where his father was singing. The ox said "Try," and ploughed the field from end to end. No hill too steep for "Try" to climb; no field too wet for "Try" to drain; no hole too big for "Try" to mend. "Can't-do-it" is a lazy fellow; but "Try" is the lad for me!



[Speak simply as possible.]

What does little birdie say, In her nest at peep of day? "Let me fly," says little birdie, "Mother, let me fly away." "Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger." So she rests a little longer; Then she flies away.

What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
"Let me rise and fly away."
"Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger;
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away!"


G. C.

[To be spoken in a firm, bold manner.]

There's a proverb, wise and true—
Keep it ever in your mind-
What your hands may find to do,
Never do with purpose blind.

Lest you stumble and you fall,
Wide awake your senses keep;

'Tis a motto good for all

Always "look before you leap!"

This will save a world of harm

That we never might repair;
And it nerves the weakest arm
Just to know our way is fair.
Recollect the silly frog,

And this proverb ever keep;
While the path of life you jog,
Always "look before you leap!"



[Recite as if you were simply talking to and describing something to a comrad ]

Once on a time a little leaf was heard to sigh and cry, as leaves often do when a gentle wind is about. And the twig said: "What is the matter, little leaf?"

"The wind," said the leaf, “just told me that one day it would pull me off, and throw me down on the ground to die."

The twig told it to the branch on which it grew, and the branch told it to the tree. When the tree heard it it rustled all over, and sent back word to the leaf: "Do not be afraid; hold on tightly and you shall not go till you want to "

So the leaf stopped sighing, and went on rustling and singing.

When the bright days of autumn came, the little leaf saw the leaves around becoming very beautiful. Then it asked the tree what this meant, and the tree said: "All these leaves are getting ready to fly away, and they have put on these beautiful colors because of joy."

Then the little leaf began to want to go, and grew very beautiful in thinking of it. And when it was very gay in colors, it saw that the branches of the tree had no color in them, so it said: "O, branch, why are you lead colored and we golden ?"

"We must keep on our work clothes," said the tree, "for our life is not done yet, but your clothes are for a holiday, for your task is over."

Just then a little puff of wind came, and the leaf let go without thinking of it; and the wind took it up, and turned it over and over, and then whirled it like a spark of fire in the air, and let it fall gently down under the edge of the fence, among hundreds of leaves, and it fell into a dream, and never waked up to tell what it dreamed about.



[Speak in an off-hand, manly way.]

Grandmothers are very nice folks;
They beat all the aunts in creation;
They let a chap do as he likes,

And don't worry about education.
I'm sure I can't see it at all

What a poor fellow ever could do
For apples, and pennies, and cakes,
Without a grandmother or two.

Grandmothers speak softly to "ma's "
To let a boy have a good time;
Sometimes they will whisper, 'tis true,
T'other way when a boy wants to climb.
Grandmothers have muffins for tea,

And pies, a whole row in the cellar,
And they're apt (if they know it in time)
To make chicken pies for a "feller."

And if he is bad now and then,

And makes a great racketing noise,

They only look over their specs

And say, "Ah, these boys will be boys!"

"Life is only so short, at the best;

Let the children be happy to-day."

Then they look for awhile at the sky,

And the hills that are far, far away.

Quite often, as twilight comes on,

Grandmothers sing hymns very low
To themselves, as they rock by the fire,
About heaven, and when they shall go;
And then, a boy, stopping to think,
Will find a hot tear in his eye

To know what will come at the last-
For grandmothers all have to die!

I wish they could stay here and pray,

For a boy needs their prayers every night; Some boys more than others, I s'poseSuch as I-need a terrible sight!


G. C.

[To be spoken simply and confidentially.]

Bobolink upon the spray,

Such a noisy bird are you!
Why, your song is heard all day,

Making such a great ado.

Surely you're a funny elf,

Very like the world, I think;

Always talking of yourself,
Thinking still of Bobolink!

Other birds are not so bold,

Some, indeed, are very shy;

Every breath your name is told
Unto every passer by.

Those who praise themselves the most
Oft deserve the least, I think;
Truly great birds never boast

Of their greatness, Bobolink!

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