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[To be given by a little boy, in a little boy's manner.]

I wants to mend my wagon,

And has to have some nails-
Jus' two free'll be plenty-
We're goin' to haul our rails.
The splendidest cob fences
We're making ever was;
I wish you'd help us find 'em,
Gran'ma al'ars does.

My horse's name is Betsy;

She jumped an' broke her head;

I put her in the stable,

An' fed her milk and bread.

The stable's in the parlor ;

We didn't make no muss;
I wish you'd let it stay there,
Gran'ma al'ars does.

I'se goin' to the cornfield,

To ride on Charley's plough;
I specks he'd like to have me-
I wants to go right now.

O, won't I "gee up" awful,

And "whoa" like Charley whoas;

I wish you wouldn't bozzer,
Gran'ma never does.

I want some bread an' butter-
I'se hungry worstest kind;
But Taddy mustn't have none,
'Cause she wouldn't mind.
Put plenty sugar on it;

I tell you what, I knows
It's right to put on sugar,
Gran'ma al'ars does.




[To be recited by a little boy or girl, in a natural way.]

Only a baby, 'thout any hair,

'Cept just a little fuzz here and there.

Only a baby-name you have none,
Barefooted, dimpled, sweet little one.

Only a baby-teeth none at all;
What are you good for only to squall?

Only a baby, just a week old;

What are you here for? That's to be told.



[To be spoken by a little child, seriously.]

Be gentle to the new laid egg,

For eggs are brittle things;

They cannot fly until they're hatched
And have a pair of wings.

If once you break the tender shell
The wrong you can't redress,
The yolk and white will all run out
And make a dreadful "mess."

'Tis but a little while at best

That hens have power to lay;
To-morrow eggs may addled be

That were quite fresh to-day.
Oh, let the touch, my friends, be light
That takes them from the keg,
There is no hand whose cunning skill
Can mend a broken egg!



[To be spoken by a little child, simply.]

A kitten once to his mother said,
"I'll never more be good;

But I'll go and be a robber fierce,
And live in a dreary wood,
Wood, wood, wood,

And live in a dreary wood."

It climbed a tree to rob a nest

Of young and tender owls;

But the branch broke off, and the kitten fell,
With six tremendous howls,

Howls, howls, howls,

With six tremendous howls.

Then up it rose and scratched its nose,

And went home very sad-
"Oh, mother dear, behold me here;

I'll never more be bad,

Bad, bad, bad,

I'll never more be bad."



[To be recited in a simple, descriptive manner.]

A fair little girl sat under a tree,
Sewing as long as her eyes could see,

Then smoothed her work, and folded it right,
And said, "Dear work, good night, good night!"

Such a number of rooks came over her head,
Crying "Caw, caw," on their way to bed;
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
"Little black things, good night, good night!"

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,

The sheep's "bleat, bleat," came over the road,
And all seemed to say, with a quiet delight,
"Good little girl, good night, good night!"

She did not say to the sun "good night,"
Tho' she saw him there like a ball of light;
For she knew he had God's own time to keep
All over the world, and never could sleep.

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head,
The violets curtseyed and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.

And, while on her pillow she softly lay,

She knew nothing more till again it was day;

And all things said to the beautiful sun,

“Good morning, good morning, our work is begun!"



[If spoken by a petite child this will prove exceedingly amusing.]

I am here! And if this is what they call the world, I don't think much of it. It's a very flannelly world, and smells of paregoric awfully. It's a dreadful light world, too, and makes me blink, I tell you. And I don't know what to do with my hands; I think I'll dig my fists in my eyes. No I won't, I'll scramble at the corner of my blanket, and chew it up, and then I'll holler-whatever happens I'll holler. And the more paregoric they give me the louder I'll yell. That old nurse puts the spoon in the corner of my mouth in a very uneasy way, and keeps tasting my milk herself all the while. She spilled snuff in it last night, and when I hollered she trotted That comes of being a two-days-old baby. Never mind; when I'm a man I'll pay her back good. There's a pin sticking in me


now, and if I say a word about it I'll be trotted or fed, and I would rather have catnip tea. I'll tell you who I am. I found out to-day. I heard folks say, "Hush, don't wake up Emeline's baby," and I suppose that pretty, white-faced woman over on the pillow is Emeline.

No, I was mistaken, for a chap was in here just now and wanted to see Bob's baby, and looked at me, and said I was a "funny little toad, and looked just like Bob." He smelt of segars, and I'm not used to them. I wonder who else I belong to. Yes, there's another one-that's "Gamma." Emeline told me, and she took me up and held me against her soft cheek, and said, "It was Gamma's baby, so it was." I declare I do not know who I do belong to; but I'll holler, and maybe I'll find ont.

There comes Snuffy with catnip tea. The idea of giving babies catnip tea when they are crying for information! I'm going to sleep.



They are full of notions. Some persons can tell what a High heads are the best kind.

[To be recited by a small boy.] Heads are of different shapes and sizes. Large heads do not hold the most. man is by the shape of his head. Very knowing people are called long-headed. A fellow that won't stop for anything or anybody is called hot-headed. If he is not quite so bright he is called soft-headed. If he won't be coaxed or turned they call him pig-headed. Animals have very small heads. The heads of fools slant back. When your head is cut off you are beheaded. Our heads are covered with hair, except bald heads. There are barrel-heads, heads of sermons - and some ministers used to have fifteen heads to each sermon — pin-heads, heads of cattle, as the farmer calls his cows and oxen, head-winds, drum-heads, cabbage heads, logger-heads, come to a head, heads of chapters, head him off, head of the family, and go ahead—but first be sure you are right; but the worst of all heads are the dead-heads who hang around an editor for free tickets to shows.

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