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One is black, with a frill of white,
And her feet are all white fur, too;
If you stroke her she carries her tail upright,
And quickly begins to pur, too,

I think we shall call her this-
I think we shall call her that;
Now, don't you fancy "Sootikin
A nice name for a cat?

One is a tortoise shell, yellow and black,
With a lot of white about him;

If you tease him, at once he sets up his back;
He's a quarrelsome Tom, ne'er doubt him!

I think we shall call him this

I think we shall call him that; Now, don't you fancy "Scratchaway" A nice name for a cat?

Our old cat has kittens three,

And I fancy these their names will be:
"Pepperpot," "Sootikin," "Scratchaway "—there!
Were there ever kittens with these to compare?

And we call the old mother-now, what do you think?
Tabitha Longclaws Tidleywink.



[Naturally and regretfully.]

No baby in the house, I know-
'Tis far too nice and clean;
No tops by careless fingers thrown
Upon the floor are seen.
No finger marks are on the panes,
No scratches on the chairs;
No wooden men set up in rows
Or marshalled off in pairs.

No little stockings to be darned,
All ragged at the toes;
No pile of mending to be done,
Made up of baby clothes.
No little troubles to be soothed,
No little hands to fold;

No grimy fingers to be washed,
No stories to be told.

No tender kisses to be given,

No nicknames-"Love" and "Mouse;"

No merry frolics after tea-
No baby in the house!



[To be spoken by a little girl, simply and tenderly.]

Right into our house one day
A dear little angel came;

I ran to him and softly said,

"Dear angel what is your name ?"

He said not a word in answer,
But smiled a beautiful smile;
Then I said, "may I go home with you?
Shall you go in a little while ?"

But mamma said, "dear little angel
Don't leave us, oh, always stay!
We will all of us love you dearly,
Sweet angel, oh, don't go away!"

So he stayed, and he stayed, and we loved him As we could not have loved another;

Do you want to know what his name is?
His name is my little brother!



[Deliver in a low but distinct tone of voice.]

God made the sky that looks so blue;

He made the grass so green;

He made the flowers that look so sweet, In pretty colors seen.

God made the sun that shines so bright,
And gladdens all I see;

It comes to give us heat and light-
How thankful should we be !

God made the pretty bird to fly;
How sweetly has she sung!
And tho' she flies so very high,
She won't forget her young,

God made the cow to give nice milk,
The horse for me to use;

I'll treat them kindly, for His sake,
Nor dare His gifts abuse.

God made the water for my drink;
He made the fish to swim;

He made the tree to bear nice fruit;
Oh, how I should love Him!



[This piece may be spoken by a very little girl.]

Good night, little star!

I will go to my bed,
And leave you to burn
While I lay down my head.

On my pillow I'll sleep
Till the morning light;
Then you will be fading
And I shall be bright.



[To be given by a little boy in a lively manner.]

Happy-go-lucky has cheeks rosy red,
Ten times a day he will stand on his head.
Happy-go-lucky is brimful of fun,

Up in the morning as soon as the sun.

Sliding on banisters all the way down;
Playing at circus and bumping his crown;
When he has shocked all the house with affright,
Off he goes screaming with roguish delight.

Happy-go-lucky once climbed up a tree,
Just to look round and see what he could see;
Crack went the bough-such a terrible fall
Didn't hurt Happy-go-lucky at all.

Maybe the fairies, with some potent charm,
Because he's so cheerful, have kept him from harm.

Mother so wishes that he would be still,
Only for once, but the rogue never will.

Happy-go-lucky runs out in the streets,
Asks in to dinner each beggar he meets.
Happy-go-lucky-now just think of that!
Tied Granny's spectacles on the poor cat.
When he knows mother is going to scold,
Off he runs gravely, in tears, I am told;
Then he will hug her, and kiss her with joy;
Any one got such an out-and-out boy?



The snail he lives in his hard round house,
In the orchard, under the tree;
Says he, "I have but a single room,
But it's large enough for me."

The snail in his little house doth dwell
From week's end to week's end;
But don't you think he's selfish, now?
For he never receives a friend!



[To be recited in a vigorous yet tender way, by a little girl or boy.]

Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,

With the wonderful water around you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast-
World, you are beautifully drest!

The wonderful air is over me,

And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree;
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.

You friendly Earth! how far do you go

With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow?

With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?

Ah, you are so great, and I am so small,
I tremble to think of you, world, at all;

And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A whisper inside me seemed to say-

"You are more than the Earth, tho' you are such a dot

You can Love and Think, and the Earth can not!"

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