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A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
A MERRY-GO-ROUND 
 OF SONG 
 
 BY 
 
 NORMAN GALE 
 
 NOiyVIAjN iGALE 
 OLD BKLN'BOIfil R^tGBY 
 
 111 
 
A4S-^^^7- 
 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 Merrily Spring came over the hill. 
 
 With fun in her lovely eyes. 
 She whispered a word to the leafless %pdge, 
 
 She kissed her hand to the skies. 
 
 Hearing a new-born lambkin call 
 
 His mother in Cowslip Vale, 
 She threw him a leap to suit his legs 
 
 And a Waggle to fit his tail. 
 
 Prettily humming her delicate songs. 
 
 She chose one out of tke rest 
 And flung it afar with magical skill 
 
 Bight into the blackbird's breast. 
 
 Seeing a thrush on an aspen branch 
 
 In want of a perfect note. 
 She gave him a thrilling cry to use 
 
 And a velvety courting-coat. 
 
 Hearing a bachelor beetle move 
 
 At the back of a hazel stem. 
 She cried to a fairy polisher, " Go 
 
 And polish him like a gem ! " 
 
 Blossom she gave to an almond-tree, 
 And warbles she gave to a brook'; 
 
 But Fancy she dropped in a poefs heart 
 As he sang at his CMldrerCs Book. 
 
ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 
 I heartily thank Messrs Raphael 
 Tuck for allowing me to print 
 several poems the copyright of 
 which belongs to them. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 PAOB 
 
 bobby's first poem . 
 
 1 
 
 'THE CLOCK AND THE CHRISTMAS PARTY 
 
 2 
 
 THE MISCHIEVOUS FAIRY 
 
 . 5 
 
 DISCONTENT .... 
 
 7 
 
 THE TROUBLES OF FATHER CHRISTMAS 
 
 8 
 
 THE SNOWDROP 
 
 . 11 
 
 bobby's TEMPER 
 
 . 12 
 
 THE TRAVELLER 
 
 . 14 
 
 i'UE BAD GTRT. . . 
 
 . 15 
 
 THK REVIEW .... 
 
 . 19 
 
 CHRISTOPHER CURLS . 
 
 . 22 
 
 SAINT FRANCIS 
 
 . 23 
 
 A GOOD REASON ..." 
 
 . 24 
 
 THK LlTl'LE ONE 
 
 , 25 
 
 MATD MARY .... 
 
 . 27 
 
 THK LOST AUNT 
 
 . 28 
 
 QUEEN HONEYSUCKLE . 
 
 . 29 
 
 THE PRISONER . . ' . 
 
 . 31 
 
 THE NEW FRIEND . . 
 
 . 33 
 
 VERSES FOR PRUE 
 
 . 35 
 
 THE LESSON . . . ' , . 
 
 . 37 
 
 ARTFUL EVANGELINE . 
 
 . 39 
 
 THK APOLOGY .... 
 
 . 41 
 
 HO:W TO DRESS • . . , 
 
 . ' . 43 
 
 ix 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 PAOE 
 
 TIMOTHY TOYLESS . . . ' 
 
 . .44 
 
 TO A LITTLE GIRL 
 
 . 45 
 
 THE CANARY AND THE MOUSE 
 
 . 46 
 
 THK PRINCESS .... 
 
 . 49 
 
 THREE HOPES . 
 
 . 51 
 
 THE REWARD .... 
 
 . 52 
 
 THE FRENCH BOY 
 
 \ 57 
 
 A PERI'ECT h'l'L' . . . 
 
 . 59 
 
 THANK YOU, LITTLE BOY . _ . 
 
 . 60 
 
 THK INSURGENT . . . . 
 
 . 61 
 
 A TALE OF THE TREES 
 
 . 63 
 
 THE sea's message 
 
 .69 
 
 GOLDEN FURZE . . . . 
 
 . 70 
 
 DINAH . . . . . . 
 
 . 71 
 
 THE APPRENTICE 
 
 . 73 
 
 LULLABY .... 
 
 . 77 
 
 HOME ..... 
 
 , 78 
 
 A DIRECTION .... 
 
 . 80 
 
 Ada's spelling 
 
 . 81 
 
 PERFECT PUPILS 
 
 . 82 
 
 THE PLAYFELLOW GIANT 
 
 . 84 
 
 THE HAPPY SWAN 
 
 . 86 
 
 NOBODY KNOWS 
 
 . 88 
 
 THE APOLOGY OF FATHER CHRISTMAS . 
 
 . 89 
 
 " SORTER KINDER " . 
 
 . 92 
 
 THE TRAP 
 
 . 94 
 
 CHRISSY IN THE CORNER 
 
 . 95 
 
 FAIRY NURSES 
 
 . 97 
 
 THE UNLEARNT LESSON 
 
 . 98 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHANGEABLE WEATHER 
 SERIOUS SYDDIE 
 THE BEST FRIEND 
 THE WISE HOLLYHOCK 
 THE RACE . , 
 
 WEARY CHRISTABEL . 
 THE SWEET-PEAS 
 A LITTLE girl's HYMN 
 
 bad belvidere 
 
 the letter . 
 
 the astonishing dance 
 
 dick's share 
 
 the blue-tit 
 
 rude hilary 
 
 UNCLE BARTY's LULLABY 
 
 the hopeful holly . 
 
 captain ea6erheart 
 
 the best game 
 
 the lapse of memory 
 
 aladdin's lamp 
 
 .the feast of fawkes 
 
 the old king 
 
 the last chimney . 
 
 the invisible stocking 
 
 the dearest aunt . 
 
 THE ROUND world's BABE 
 THE LOSSES . 
 
A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF 
 SONG 
 
 BOBBY'S FIRST POEM 
 
 ITT rely is ridikkelus 
 how unple charly tikkels us 
 at eester and at mikkelmus 
 
 Upon the nursry flor 
 and mfcbs our chins and bites our ears 
 like filtty fousand pbler bares 
 and rors like lyons down the stares 
 
 and wont play enny mor 
 
THE CLOCK AND THE CHRISTMAS PARTY 
 
 ) 
 The Grandfather Clock, standing back in the gloom, 
 Heard the knives and the forks in a neighbouring 
 room, 
 And the clatter of plates as the girls and the boys 
 Did their best to increase such a jubilant noise 
 As never till then had been heard in the hall 
 
 Where the Cayaliers huiig in their frames on the 
 wall! 
 Such a rumpus bewildered the mice ; and the 
 Clock 
 Went crack-crack in his case from the force of 
 the shock ! 
 " 'Tis enough to make my pendulum hurry. 
 And both my weights run down in a flurry ! 
 Why, bless my heart, whatever could start 
 Such a chattering flock ? " 
 Quoth the Grandfather Clock. 
 (But he didn't run down.) 
 
 Just after his casing of walnut went crack . 
 
 Both the sides of the door were moved suddenly 
 back. 
 What the Grandad beheld caused a very sharp 
 rick 
 - In his side, and he nearly omitted to tick ! 
 For hp-ho I the bright dozens of boys and of girls 
 With the papery caps on the top of their curls ! 
 With Jellies and tartlets and fruit and mince-pies 
 And custards and candles and fairy-lit eyes 1 
 
THE CLOCK AND THE CHRISTMAS PARTY 3 
 
 " 'Tis enough to make my pendulum hurry. 
 And both my weights run down in a flurry ! 
 Upon my word, I never have heard 
 Such a merry-mad flock ! " 
 Quoth the Grandfather Clock. 
 (But he didn't run down.) 
 
 Then the children got up from the table and rushed 
 For their hands to be cleaned and their curls to 
 be brushed ; 
 And when they were tidy they stood in the gloom 
 Near the big folding-doors of the Grandfather's 
 room. ' 
 
 Then a vjery tall gentleman pressed with his thumb 
 
 On a little white button, for radiance to come 
 Frbm ceiling and mantel and cornice and wall 
 To light the magnificent room— for a ball ! 
 " 'Tis enough to make my pendulum hurry, 
 And both my weights run down in a flurry. 
 To see go round to the fiddle's sound 
 Such a nimble-sweet flock!" 
 Quoth the Grandfather Clock. 
 (But he didn't run down.) 
 
 When the Spirit of Christmas determined to call 
 ' Lovely legions of playmates to join in the ball, 
 Then the Hollybush Fairylings pricked at the legs 
 Of the Rogers and Lucys and Normans and 
 Megs ; 
 And the Mistletoe Fairylings fluttered about 
 
 On the chance of defeating some littfe girl's pout 
 And persuading her apple-cheeked partner to dare 
 .What the season allowed him to snatch from the 
 Fair! 
 
4 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 " 'Tis enough to make my pendulum hurry. 
 And lx)th my weights run down in a flurry ! 
 I Uttle knew I should ever view , 
 
 Such a lovable flock ! " 
 Quoth the Grandfather Clock. 
 (But he didn't run down;) 
 
 ' So excited he grew that he once tried to spring 
 
 From his place and to join in a Highlander's fling, 
 For he fell deep in love with a quaint little girl's 
 
 Blue campanula eyes and marsh marigold curls ! 
 But, as fortune would have it, the delicate dear, 
 s? Being much out of breath, to the Grandad came 
 
 near. 
 And, in thanks for his coolness, kept pressing her 
 face *■ 
 
 And her bright scarlet lips on his walnutty case ! 
 " 'Tis enough to make my pendulum hurry. 
 And both my weights run down in a flurry. 
 To have^a kiss from the charming miss 
 Who's the flower of the flock ! " 
 Quoth the Grandfather Clock. 
 (And he then ran down.) 
 
THE MISCHIEVOUS FAIRY 
 
 As I went into my study, 
 Where the fire was low but ruddy, 
 I believed a lady must have left some violets in my 
 room. 
 
 I began to seek the beauties 
 Ere I set about my duties. 
 When I came upon a Fa^ry-boy sniff-sniffing in the 
 gloom. 
 
 He was stationed in a corner, 
 Like, and yet unlike. Jack Homer, 
 Just a whimpering little fellow from his fairyland 
 aloof; 
 
 And I shouldn't more have wondered 
 If a crocodile had blundered 
 Down the chimney, or an elephant had fallen 
 through the roof. 
 
 In my bosom pit-a-pattet 
 Went my heart (so strange the matter !) 
 And I quite believe a hair or two rose stiflHy on my 
 he^id ; 
 
 For it's really rather trying 
 When you come upon a crying 
 Little Fairy at a time when Fairy-boys should be in 
 bed. 
 
6 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Very soon he told me faintly, 
 In a voice that sounded quaintly, 
 
 How he flew in at a window and enjoyed a lovely jink 
 TiU his parents, who had sought him 
 In a hundred places, caught him 
 
 As he broke my stick of sealing-wax and flung it. in 
 the ink. 
 
 So they put him in a corner, 
 Like, and yet unlike, Jack Horner, 
 And they told him not to budge an inch till I had 
 found him there ; 
 
 For they said I ought to strip him 
 Of his coloured clothes and whip him 
 Till he promised not to trespass on .nly table any- 
 where. 
 
 But he looked at menso sweetly 
 As he cleaned his breast completely 
 Of the mischief he had done me in his afternoon of 
 play? 
 
 That I kissed his mouth, and told him 
 (For I couldn't bear to scold him) 
 How I hoped he'd call to see me for a frolic every 
 day! 
 
DISCONTENT 
 
 " With nothing to make him sob or sigh, 
 He goes as he likes along the sky 
 In his silver shoes and his silver tie, 
 
 And with heaps of joy ; 
 He never must learn in a book how far 
 From the Isle of Wight the Shetland^ are ! 
 Just wouldn't I love tp be a «tar ! " 
 
 Said the silly, boy. 
 
 " With nothing to make him spin and fly, 
 He's gone to the sea and a big sand-pie 
 In his canvas shoes and,.his scarlet tie 
 
 In a railway car ; 
 No wonder the busy porters smiled 
 At the ships and spades on the barrow piled ! 
 Just wouldn't I love to be a child ! " 
 
 Said the silly star. 
 
THE TROUBLES OF FATHER CHRISTMAS 
 
 " For clambering down the chimneys and for 
 clambering up again," 
 Said Father Christmas on the roof, " I'm getting 
 • old, it's plain. 
 It suits me in a hundred ways to live upon the 
 earth 
 And spend a lajge amount of time in planning 
 children's mirth, 
 But how a builder can expect a gentleman to shoot 
 Down tunnels so perplexing, what with narrowness 
 and soot. 
 And yet arrive withoul^ a smudge on face or nose or 
 hand. 
 Is more than a magician's cat could rightly under- 
 stand. 
 Imagine how I lose my breath, when down a yard 
 or two, 
 By tugging at my oranges and crackers in a flue ! 
 But Florences and Laurences, 
 And Margarets and Olivettes, 
 And Charlies and Horatios, 
 And Jims and Jacks and Jills and Joes, 
 Expect m'e, I suppose. 
 Here goes ! 
 
 " While children blossom in their beds, while sleep 
 is stroking them, 
 I bump along the slanty roof with Japhet, Ham, 
 and Shem ; 
 
 8 
 
THE TROUBLES OF FATHER CHRISTMAS 9 
 
 With thirty baby elephants, with goshngs and with 
 dogs. 
 With various kinds of paroquets and antelopes 
 and frogs. 
 No wonder that I sometimes feel, when out in snow 
 or rain. 
 As though my legs were dropping off and joining 
 on again ! 
 No wonder that I often think my health will not 
 allow 
 My body to repeat next year the work it's doing 
 now; 
 For roofs are slippery and cold, and chimney-pots 
 are tight. 
 And gentlemen as old as I should keep indoors at 
 night. 
 
 But Florences and Laurences, 
 And Lavenders arid Olivers, 
 And Leonards and Horatios, 
 And Jims and Jacks and Jills and Joes, 
 Expect me, I suppose. 
 Here goes ! 
 
 " Now here's an awkward chimney ! No other 
 Christmas friend 
 Of human babes would ever dream of getting 
 past that bend. 
 And even I, with all my skill, can't possibly be 
 quick 
 In taking down this narrow flue a rocking-horse 
 to Dick. 
 Although it's heart-delighting when I reach a 
 quiet room, 
 Sweet-lavendered by children lying cosy in the 
 gloom. 
 
10 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 And fumble for the stockings hanging long and limp 
 and black 
 And hungry for the feast of toys I carry in my 
 pack, 
 I cannot keep from thinking, as I scramble in the 
 flue. 
 How seldorja I am nicely thanked by Christopher 
 and Sue. 
 
 But Florences and Laurences, 
 t And Clementines and JEUalines, 
 
 ^ And Rogers and Horatios, 
 
 And Jims and Jacks and Jills and Joes, 
 Expect me, I suppose. 
 Here goes ! " 
 
THE SNOWDROP 
 
 " Stay a. little longer," 
 
 Said a Fairy to a Snowdrop ; 
 " Stay a little longer in your earth-brown nursery ! " 
 
 But she Siaid, " I must be going, 
 
 Be it raining, hailing, snowing ; 
 
 I must stir me and be going. 
 For the Master calleth me." 
 
 " Stay a little longer," 
 
 Said the Children to the Snowdrop ; 
 " Stay a little longer by the old laburnum-tree ! " 
 
 But she said, " I must be homing 
 
 With my sisters in the gloaming ; 
 
 I inust stir me and be homing. 
 For the Master calleth me." 
 
 II 
 
BOBBY'S TEMPER 
 
 i 
 
 Becoming tired of history, geography, and words, 
 The colours and the habits and the favourite food 
 of birds, 
 Quite suddenly he shouted out, " It's horrid to be 
 good ! 
 I'm going to be badder than you wouldn't think 
 I could ! " 
 
 Ite flung the inkwell at the cat, the paint-box at 
 the dog. 
 The poker seized, and tomahawked Estella's 
 crimson frog ; 
 He yelled, " Beware the Indian Brave ! " and butted 
 with his head 
 The nurse, who shook him like a rat and bundled 
 him to bed. 
 
 She took his clothes away from him, and there -for 
 hours he lay 
 And thought of plans for Scalping her to-morrow 
 or next day ; 
 For still the wicked temper kept on bubbling in his 
 heart 
 And woiddn't let the Fairy of Repentance make a 
 start ! 
 
 When Mother came from Loiidon, by the train at 
 half -past six. 
 She heard, with overflowing eyes, of Bobby's 
 dreadful tricks ; 
 
 12 
 
BOBBY'S TEMPER 13 
 
 But when he saw her face, he cried, as near the bed 
 she stood, 
 " Oh, Mammy, I'll be gooder than you wouldn't 
 think I could ! " 
 
THE TRAVELLER 
 
 I LOVE a little darling 
 
 Who is smaller than a starling, 
 
 But she wants to fly a thousand miles away. 
 On a metal line she's sitting, 
 With a heart pit-pat-pit-pitting 
 
 4-s the English evening turns from gold to grey. 
 
 She's finished all her packing. 
 And there's really nothing lacking 
 
 For the journey to be taken in the old and 
 wondrous way. 
 She's at fever-heat for going. 
 By d, law beyond our knowing. 
 
 As the English evening turns from gold to grey. 
 
 I .think each reader guesses 
 
 Why she has no change of dresses. 
 
 Though she means to make so very long a stay : 
 In her coat and skirt of feather ^ 
 She's prepared for foreign weather 
 
 As the English evening turns from gold to grey. 
 
 Not in body can I follow 
 
 Through the air the gentle swallow, 
 
 Yet my love shall speed beside her on the way. 
 Now the sky is snowing, snowing 
 With ten thousand flakes. She's going ! 
 
 And the English evening's gold is lost in grey. 
 
 14 
 
THE BAD GIRL 
 
 Once a little girl (how sad !) 
 Determined to be very bad. 
 
 At breakfast-time she knocked a jug 
 To pieces with her birthday mug. 
 
 She snatched the honeycomb, and spread 
 At least an inch on ba,by's head. 
 
 She got a needle, and she pressed 
 Quite hard against the parrot's chest, 
 
 Who, what with agony and rage, 
 Upset at last his silvered cage, 
 
 ' And, screaming all a wicked bird's 
 Supjply of dreadful forest-words. 
 
 Fell with a bump — a dismal wreck ! — 
 Upon the hearth, and broke his neck. 
 
 She went to lessons, sour and glum ; 
 She bit her music-teacher's thumb. 
 
 And when the barber came to trim 
 Her grey-gold hair, she flew at him 
 
 And raised a lump upon his leg 
 As large as Madam Turkey's egg. 
 15 
 
16 A MERRY-GO-ROUND Of SONG 
 
 She tore a button from his coat 
 And tried to flilig it down his throat. 
 
 Thus matters went from bad to worse. 
 Till all were crying— Mab and Nurse, 
 
 And Diccory, and Silver Sam, 
 The twins, and Hilary, and Pam. 
 
 When Mother heard the piteous tale 
 She went at first extremely pale. 
 
 And then extremely red, before 
 She pointed sternly at the door. 
 
 And followed, silent as the gloom, 
 The wicked child to Father's room. 
 
 When Father heard he did not speak. 
 But looked at her with eyes so bleak 
 
 That in her face, and back and knees 
 She felt her blood begin to freeze. 
 
 He kept on staring. Little floes 
 Of ice were pressing on her toes. 
 
 And still he stared ! The child -syas lost, 
 Or so she felt, in Father's frost. 
 
 He stood beside the study door 
 And pointed to the stairs. The floor 
 
 An iceberg seemed ! In vain to pluck 
 Her feet away she tried. She stuck. 
 
THE BAD GIRL 17 
 
 The curly fends of hearthrug felt 
 Like icicles that would not melt. 
 
 Then Mother snatched her from the ice 
 And took her bedward in a trice. 
 
 But in her sleep she suffered most, 
 Because she saw the parrot's ghost ! 
 
 She saw it stand in horrid wise 
 And roll a vengestnce from its eyes, 
 
 Till suddenly, alert and plain, 
 
 It hopped along the counterpane. 
 
 It passed her ankles, reached her knees ; 
 Again the child began to freeze. 
 
 It stood in triumph on her chest 
 
 And smacked its horny beak with zest. 
 
 It dug its talons in her chin, 
 
 Flung back its head, a breath drew in. 
 
 And then, as steadily as gops 
 
 The blacksmith's hammer, pecked her nose. 
 
 The more she screamed, the more the ghost 
 With firmness held his tender post. 
 
 While tiny chips of nose were spread 
 At random on the tumbled bed. 
 
 When all the nose was gone, the bird 
 Proclaimed his most victorious word, 
 
 B 
 
18 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 ■ Uncorked a fancied bbttle, hiss^, 
 And darkly melted into mist. 
 
 Oh, little girls who would not use 
 This violent rebel's pair of shoes. 
 
 Who would not throw a sunny day 
 (So precious for the heart !) away, 
 
 Who would not feel your bodies grow 
 As cold as beggars in the snow, 
 
 Who want dream-comers in the night 
 To be, as lilies, fair and bright, 
 
 Have done with naughty hearts ! Pretend 
 That days are open flowers, and spend, 
 
 . As though a family of bees, 
 Your time ingathering honey. Please! 
 
THE REVIEW 
 
 Upon the crimson carpet of a long and lofty hall 
 Stood Father Christmas, in a gown of purple 
 edged with gold. 
 His forehead it was wrinkled, and the hand of Time 
 had sprinkled 
 On his hair the white of winter ; but his face was 
 far from old. 
 The bluest eyes in all the world were gleaming as 
 he laughed 
 And spoke a rapid sentence to the helpers stand- 
 ing near. 
 I wish the magic company had all been photo- 
 graphed 
 And framed and hung upon a nail for every 
 little dear ! 
 " Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow," 
 Said Father Christmas, speaking I9W, 
 " Remember every tub and spout 
 And all the gutters round about, 
 And run your ways on hearing— Go ! 
 
 " You both shall see before you start the multitude 
 of toys 
 By Fairies manufactured while I took a year of 
 sleep." 
 He signalled to a sentry who was watching at the 
 entry. 
 And the giant portal opened on a staircase broad 
 arid steep. 
 19 
 
20 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Brigades of metal infantry tramp-tramped along 
 the floor, 
 To crush the foes of England or' to lie in glorious 
 graves, 
 With whistling and with humming, with bandsmen 
 proudly drumming, 
 With brass declaring splendidly that Britons won't 
 be slaves ! 
 " In payment for this dazzling show," 
 Said Father Christmas, speaking low, 
 " Remember every window-pane 
 And every twig along the lane. 
 And run your ways on hearing — Go ! " 
 
 He crooked his fingers suddenly, when all the 
 brilliant host 
 Departed in a second with the cannon and the 
 shells ; 
 And following tinny forces came ten thousand 
 rocking-horses 
 With a melody of stirrups and a Jinglcment of 
 bells. 
 They galloped by at headlong speed, and dolls of 
 lovely shapes 
 Came dancing in — a multitude delightful to 
 behold. 
 With hats of perfect beauty, and with bodices and 
 capes 
 Of peacock-blue, woodpecker-green, and yellow- 
 hammer gold. I < 
 " Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow," 
 Said Father Christmas, speaking low, 
 " Remember every log and stump 
 And weathercock and village pump. 
 And run your ways on hearing — Go ! " 
 
THE REVIEW 21 
 
 Then other toys appeared in turn upon the crimson 
 plain, 
 Till Jacky Frost and Lily Snow grew giddy at the 
 sight 
 Of metal stags and leopards, china lambs and wooden 
 shepherds 
 For the stockings waiting weary for old Santa 
 Claus at night. 
 Then Father Christmas made as if he juggled in the 
 air, 
 And suddenly a little bed, with children in it, came, 
 That Frost and Snow might watch for once (you 
 should have seen them stare !) 
 How Santa fills the stockings when he plays the 
 Chimney Game. , 
 
 " Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow," 
 Said Father Christmas, speaking low, 
 " Remember every stack and rut 
 And hoUybush and woodman's hut. 
 And run your ways. Get ready I — Go ! " 
 
CHRISTOPHER CURLS 
 
 I SHOULD like to know why Christopher Curls, 
 
 Who's a sweet little boy with a face like a girl's, ^ 
 Won't listen to me, though I keep on appealing, 
 But lies on his back making friends with the 
 ceiling! 
 
 J should love to know. 
 
 I should like to know why Christopher Curls, 
 
 Who is dearer to me than a sackful of pearls. 
 Won't listen to drums, or to pupp'ydogs squeialing. 
 But chuckles and bubbles for friends on the 
 ceiling ! 
 
 I should love to know. 
 
 Little Christopher Curls, am I i^ight to suppose 
 That a fairy -born playmate good-humouredly 
 throws 
 Back-somersaults thesre, and delights in revealing 
 Extravagant pranks on the floor of the ceiling ? 
 I should love to know. 
 
 Little Christopher Curls, how I wonder, my dear. 
 If I acted like this when my age was a year ; 
 If I never regarded my Uncle's appealing, 
 
 But bubbled and crowed to some friends on the 
 ceiling ! 
 
 I should love to know. 
 
 22 
 
SAINT FRANCIS 
 
 Because a tiny boy has pressed 
 Too close, a blackbird on her nest 
 Is full of trouble in her breast, 
 
 And tremulously glanceif. 
 She thinks how well she could halve fared 
 Without his speeches. If she dared 
 To peck this little golden-haired 
 
 Inquisitive Saint Francis ! 
 
 She does not know his parents speak 
 From day to day and week to week 
 In love of breast and wing and beak. 
 
 And all a blackbird's chances. 
 A wrong nt)t easily repaired 
 Were done, dear mother, if you dared, 
 To peek this little golden-haired 
 
 Inquisitive Saint Francis ! 
 
 Because of pretty stories heard. 
 He only wants to have a Word 
 Of joy with you, suspicious bird, 
 
 About those sweet romances ! 
 Be very thankful that you spared 
 The heart had broken had you dared 
 To peck this small and golden-haired 
 
 And amateur Saint Francis ! 
 
 23 
 
A GOOD REASON 
 
 Do you know why the Moon 
 Tiakes the trouble to rise, 
 
 Rubbing silvery soap 
 In h%r beautiful eyes ? 
 
 Why she brushes her hair 
 
 In the neatest of ways, 
 Till the fairy-like stars 
 
 Clap their hands in her praise ? 
 
 Why she comes spick and span 
 From her bedroom of blue, 
 
 And with never a bow 
 Of bright ribbon askew ? 
 
 As she walks down the sky 
 
 In her petticoat fair 
 I believe that she keeps 
 
 Wide-awake in the air 
 
 For the joy of a glance 
 
 At the cradles and beds 
 That are precious with dark 
 
 And with light-coloured heads. 
 
 Now you see why the Moon 
 
 Takes the trouble to rise, 
 Rubbing silvery soap 
 
 In her beautiful eyes. 
 
 24 
 
THE LITTLE ONE 
 
 The Beggar and his Little One were walking down 
 
 the road. 
 Said the Beggar very softly, " Ah, how young to 
 
 bear a load ! 
 For the dreary days are coming when a sword is in 
 
 the wind. 
 And the haystack or the heather-clump must serve 
 
 as our abode," 
 
 (But God smiled gently to Himself.) 
 
 The Beggar and his Little One were passing through 
 
 the corn. 
 Said the Beggar very softly, " What a pity she was 
 
 born ! 
 For the pinch has come upon us, and her little 
 
 mouth is sad, 
 And for her there's hungry midday, hungry evening, 
 
 hungry morn." 
 
 (But the Wheat smiled gently to itself.) 
 
 The Beggar and his Little One were creeping 
 
 through the town. 
 They gazed in at a window where the loaves were 
 
 thick and brown. 
 " Poor darling ! " said the Beggar, as he looked with 
 
 tearful eyes 
 At the tiny slip of girlhood in the tiny ragged 
 
 gown. 
 
 (But the Loaves laughed gently to themselves.) 
 
 ?5 
 
26 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 He scarce had moved ten yards away from where 
 
 the food was spread, 
 When the baker pushed into his hands a crusty dorjie 
 
 of bread : 
 " 'Tis fresh from out the oven, Friend, to warm the 
 
 child and you." 
 So the Beggar land his Little One went satisfied to 
 
 bed. 
 
 (And God smiled softly to Himself.) 
 
MAID MARY 
 
 Carried snugly in my arms, 
 You have seen the roSe's charms 
 In the scented flower-farms 
 
 Loved by bee and Fairy ; 
 Watched the honey-hunter fly 
 Down a lily's throat, and hie 
 Home with gold-dust on her thigh, 
 
 Have you not, Maid Mary ? 
 
 Once I showed, when all the rest 
 Played a long way off, a nest 
 Deep between two branches pressed, 
 
 Do\Yny, leafy, hairy ; 
 Told you how the mother begs 
 Peace while cuddling wings and legs 
 Tightly packed away in eggs, 
 
 Did I not, Maid Mary ? 
 
 Here I teach your grey-blue eyes 
 How to learn the grass and skies, ' 
 Flowers and birds and butterflies. 
 
 Plummy trees and peary. 
 Watch the lilies in a row 
 Lift up lessons sweet to know. 
 That your heart and mind may grow 
 
 Lily-like, Maid Mary. . 
 
 27 
 
THE LOST AUNT 
 
 I NEVER met three horrider boys 
 Than Can't, Won't, Sha'tf t J 
 They broke the baby's doll and toys, 
 And always tried to make a noise 
 I Whenever they were asked to be 
 Less noisy by their Aunt. 
 
 I never met three horrider girls 
 
 Than Shrug, Squeal, Pout ! 
 They poured some gum on baby's curls. 
 They ran away with Auntie's pearls, 
 
 And always bit their governess 
 
 When Mother had gone out. 
 
 At last no invitations came 
 
 For Can't, Won't, Sha'n't. 
 Wise mothers kept their parties snug 
 By leaving Squeal and Pout and Shrug 
 
 To quarrel with their brothers three 
 
 And terrify their Aunt. 
 
 This Aunt was sweet as sugar-cane. 
 And tried each day 
 
 To teach the children rough and wild 
 
 To do as she did when a child. 
 
 In vaiji ! She had to pack her bag 
 And go with tears and sobs away. 
 
 28 
 
QUEEN HONEYSUCKLE 
 
 Don't bring the Honeysuckle home ! 
 
 She doesn't want to come. 
 Knee-deep in water in a jar, 
 She cannot see her favourite star 
 When Night reveals how many eyes 
 Are counting comets in the skies. 
 She cannot hear the nightingale 
 ■ Tell yet once more the glowing tale 
 He packed so tightly in his brain 
 When starting for an English lane, 
 Because he hoped jf|| win a meek 
 Young spinster with his fluent beak. 
 
 Don't bring the Honeysuckle home ! 
 
 She doesn't want to corjie. 
 She longs to stay and hear the words 
 Of lessons taught by elder birds 
 To fluffy classes, not too big, 
 That sit and learn upon a twig. 
 She wants to gather what the wren 
 Advises if his nervous hen 
 Is worried by the distant noise 
 Of slowly-nearing girls and boys. 
 Who chase each other round and round, 
 And bounce like balls upon the ground. 
 
 Don't bring the Honeysuckle home ! 
 
 She doesn't want to come. 
 Would you, if you were born to grow 
 With leafy hedgeside neighbours ? No ! 
 29 
 
30 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 She's hot aiid weary when she stands, 
 A faded prisoner, in your hands, 
 And keeps on wishing you would cease 
 To think the nursery mantelpiece 
 A proper place for one who's been 
 A scented and delicious Queen, 
 Accepting in a thousand vales 
 The compliments of nightingales. 
 
THE PRISONER 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " I said, for I had heard a nasty little slap, 
 " Another mouse has caught himself in Auntie 
 
 Ada's trap — 
 Another silly mousikin has left his mother's knees ' 
 And fallen victim to the charms of toasted Cheddar 
 
 cheese*! " 
 
 I reached behind the big arm-chair, exploring with a 
 
 stick. 
 And thought I heard a piping voice exclaim, " Be 
 
 qiiick ! Be quick ! " 
 At last I gave the prison such a smart and sudden 
 
 rap 
 That out it came. A Fairy's foot was tortured in 
 
 the trap ! 
 
 My dearest children, you can guess that then, 
 
 without a pause, 
 I, knelt to free the tiny foot, and stroked the wings of 
 
 gauze, , 
 
 And took the Fairy to the fire to nurse upon my 
 
 knee. 
 And listened while she told her tale heartbrokenly 
 
 to me. 
 
 She'd run away from Fairyland because she longed 
 
 to, know 
 A township where the noisy crowds of human beings 
 
 grow, 
 31 
 
32 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 And drive the giant omnibus, and disappear in 
 
 holes, 
 
 And rush about inside the earth Uke families of 
 
 moles. • 
 
 No taller than a toddling child, and only half as bold, 
 The lost and lovely Pairyling was very sweet to 
 
 hold 
 Beside the winter flaming of the fire that seemed to 
 
 stare 
 So rudely at her tangled cloud of chestnut-coloured 
 
 hair. 
 
 In sudden loops of frolic, in gay and rapid rings. 
 She flew about for me to watch the glitter of her 
 
 wings ; 
 And when at last she folded them, she danced upoi^ 
 
 the floor 
 Such dances as a mortal man had never seen before 1 
 
 " Ah, never go away ! " I said. " Keep house, dear 
 
 child, with me. 
 I want to stroke you often while you sit upon my 
 
 knee." 
 She promised with a clinging kiss she'd never more 
 
 depart. 
 Contented to be prisoned in the mouse-trap of my 
 
 heart. 
 
THE NEW FRIEND 
 
 He's lying, lazy on his back, and staring in my eyes 
 With a sort of stony steadfastness, and breathing 
 little sighs. 
 
 He's wondeting why such mopsters come so fre- 
 quently, to bend 
 Above his kingdom in a cot. He hopes I am a friend. 
 
 I make a kind df chicken-noise— a clucking as of 
 
 fowls 
 Contented in a rick'yard ; but Baby Bunting scowls. 
 
 I coo, as thqugh I \vere a dove delighted in an oak 
 By eggs his wife has laid for him ; and Baby sees 
 the joke. 
 
 At last he twists his mouth about in several awkward 
 
 styles, 
 Displaying knots and corners ; and then suddenly he 
 
 smiles ! 
 
 And next he makes a woodland sound, to show his 
 
 Uncle Hugh 
 That even at a tender age a little bird can coo ! 
 
 No more he fears the giant who is bending o'er the 
 
 bed, 
 With such a mass of yellow hair upon his monster 
 
 head ! 
 
 c 33 
 
34 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 But takes him to his littlg heart, confidingly aware 
 That nothing mischievous is meant by all that 
 curly hair ! ^ ' 
 
 Thus Baby wins a loving slave, who frequently will 
 
 come 
 And beat upon the nursery • door as if it were a 
 
 drum ; ' 
 
 And, either as a camel or a buffalo, will spend 
 An hour before the tub receives his BaTay Bunting 
 friend. 
 
VERSES FOR PRUE 
 
 Father Christmas rubbed his eyes ; 
 
 Found it was April ; stared at the clock ; 
 Filled his room with the sound of sighs, 
 
 Because of the Grandad's slow tick-tock. 
 He yearned to be off with his sack of toys 
 
 To a farnous country of golden curls, 
 With goodness knows what for the dear little boys, 
 And better than that for the dear little girls. 
 Every time he woke in the summer 
 
 The heart ' of the kind old man turned 
 glummer. 
 Longing for Ada, Roderick, Nancy, 
 Christopher, Nell, and (only fancy !) 
 You, Prue. 
 
 Father Christmas cracked his toes : 
 
 Found it was August ; stared at the clo6k ; 
 Said in his beard^ " How starched he goes 
 
 By day and by night with his grim tick-tock ! " 
 He yearned to be up on the roof once more. 
 
 Where the hailstones pepper his brave old head ; 
 But yearning was vain, so pretending to snore 
 (To frighten the clock), he continued in bed. 
 Every time he woke in the summer 
 
 The heart of the dear old man turned glummer, 
 Longing for Jessie, Kaitharine, Bridget, 
 Hilary, John, and (golden fidget !) 
 You, Prue. 
 
 35 
 
36 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Father Christmas sat upright ; 
 
 Found it December ; glared at the clock ; 
 Roared a hundred candles alight, 
 
 And searched in a rage for a red wool sock. 
 Too deep had he dreamed ! It was time for his 
 
 round > 
 
 ' Of the chimneys ranked in a thousand miles. 
 By naming a word of astonishing sound 
 
 He shattered the roof, and was out on the tiles ! 
 Dead and gone was the vexing summer 
 
 That wearied his heart and turned it gluminet. 
 Hey ! for the pillow-spread curls of Mary, 
 Christopher, Nell, and (silk-soft fairy !) 
 You, Prue ! ' 
 
THE LESSON 
 
 Bring your lovely heads to me, 
 • Children, and your lovely eyes ! 
 Bend above this board tb see 
 What I have of true surprise. 
 
 Every day I try to teach 
 
 Something to your growing wit. 
 
 That by learning you may reach 
 Wonder's hfcart, and beat with it. 
 
 Here I show a child of wheat. 
 
 Packed with root and skyward sprout. 
 Waiting in his small retreat 
 
 Signals to be up and out ! 
 
 Stores to feed him as he grows 
 Round his points of life are spread, 
 
 Placed for him by One who knows 
 How to make His creatures' bread. , 
 
 Though his cradle holds him yet, 
 
 Not asleep the baby lies ; 
 All his darkling hopes are set 
 
 Firmly on the coloured skies. 
 
 Now I split our simple toy. 
 
 Showing by what marvellous plan 
 
 Wheat's delicious baby-boy 
 Changes slowly to a man ! 
 
 37 
 
38 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Millions of his brethren bold 
 Far afield in sun and dew 
 
 Make, by changing green to gold, 
 Crumb and crust to give to you. 
 
 Bend above the board to see 
 
 What I have of rare surprise. 
 Lend your lovely heads to me, 
 • Children, and your lovely eyes ! 
 
ARTFUL EVANGELINE 
 
 When Nursie says, " Evangeline, 
 . 'Tis time for Bedfordshire, 
 
 My dear ! " 
 The little girl begins to crawl 
 Beneath the sofa near the ^^all. 
 And utters such a piercing squeal, 
 When Nursie tugs her by the heel. 
 That Uncle Robert rushes out 
 To see if brigands are about ! 
 
 When Cousin says, " Evangeline, 
 'Tis time for Bedfordshire, 
 
 My dear ! " 
 The little girl begins to sniff 
 Inside her pocket-handkerchief; 
 Or tumbles with a heavy bump 
 Upon the hearthrug in a lump. 
 Till Cousin looks extremely vexed. 
 And Uncle Bob exclaims, " What next ! 
 
 When Mother says, " Evangeline, 
 'Tis time for Bedfordshire, 
 
 My dear ! " 
 The child is almost sure to gain. 
 By being sweet as sugar-cane, 
 A little longer tiriie to sit 
 And watch her Auntie's fingers flit 
 Like birds among the ivory keys 
 To wake the laughing melodies. 
 39 
 
 55 
 
40 A MiiRIlY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 When FATHER says, " Evangeline, 
 v; 'Tis time for Bedfordshire, 
 My dear! " 
 Evangelina never thinks 
 Of being such a little minx 
 As when the others all declare 
 The hour has come for bath and prayer. 
 But gives to each of uS a kiss * 
 
 And goes to bed — a mddel miss ! 
 
THE APOLOGY 
 
 I NEVER shall forget 
 
 The day when Daddy frowned, 
 And flung his book and walking-stick 
 
 And cap upon the ground ! 
 
 He said he had not thought 
 
 A child of his could bear 
 To bully in their nulfserieS 
 
 The children of the air. 
 
 He said he almost wished 
 
 I'd neither arms nor legs, 
 Since I could use them wickedly 
 
 To steal a thrush's eggs. 
 
 And when I sobbed, he said, 
 " Don't rub those naughty eyes, 
 
 But go at once to Mrs Thrush 
 And then apologise." 
 
 He took me through a gap 
 Where he could hardly crush, 
 
 And made me curtsy twice, and say, 
 " I beg your pardon. Thrush ! " 
 
 And then beside the hedge 
 He taught me how to think 
 
 Of birds in blue, of birds in green, 
 Of birds in white and pink, 
 
 41 
 
42 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Till I could see 'twas wrong 
 To steal the thrush's eggs, 
 
 And promised (with a kiss) to have 
 Good eyes, good arms, good legs. 
 
 Suppose an eagle came 
 
 And took from Daddy's nest 
 
 The face he loves, the hair he loves. 
 The heart he loves the best ! 
 
HOW TO DRESS 
 
 If you want to be well-dressed, 
 You must have a little vest 
 
 Of good-temper next your skin. 
 If you haven't, you will pout. 
 Scratch and grumble, stamp and shout. 
 Throw your toys and books about, 
 Till the lovely light goes out. 
 
 In her sorrowful surprise, 
 From your pretty mother's eyes. 
 
 Thus beginning with a vest 
 Of good-tempqr on your chest. 
 
 You will have a splendid start ; 
 And your other things will seem 
 Made of sky and rainbow beam. 
 Softer than a Fairy's dream 
 When she nods beside a stream. 
 
 Come and be a happy boy 
 In the coloured clothes of joy ! 
 
 But the garment you must wear 
 Every day, and never tear. 
 
 Is an overall of love ! 
 This is made of fabric grown 
 Where the fields are angel-sown, 
 And is stitched in ways unknown 
 To the worl4 we call our own. 
 
 Put it on, and make me glad 
 Thus to see you, dearest lad ! 
 43 
 
TIMOTHY TOYLESS 
 
 With marks of tears upon his cheeks, 
 
 Timothy Toyless lay 
 ^An hour or two before the dawn . 
 
 Of holy Christmas Day. 
 His hair was rough, his bed was rough, 
 
 And rough his little ^hirt. 
 The only watchers in the room 
 
 Were Poverty and Dirt. 
 
 While these were sitting hand in hand. 
 
 There suddenly appeared 
 An old and rosy gentleman 
 ' • With half a yard of beard ! 
 His hair was white, his face was broad. 
 
 His mantle it was red. 
 "Is Timothy Toyless sleeping here, 
 
 Miss Poverty ? " he said. 
 
 She nodded to the Visitor, 
 
 Who put his bundle down 
 And took a scarlet humming-top 
 
 From underneath his gown. , 
 He laid it on the bed, and passed 
 
 In silence through the door ; 
 And Timothy Toyless thereupon 
 
 Was Toyless Tim no more ! 
 
 44 
 
TO A LITTLE GIRL 
 
 Perhaps, dear Child, you did not know 
 That Fairies smell as sweet as flowers 
 The many tribes have many scents, • 
 And many differing ornaments, 
 
 And various heart-delighting bowers. 
 
 Now just as birds, in sycamores 
 
 By sound give sweetness to the trees. 
 The Fairies by their odours make 
 The petalled cups a perfume take 
 To spill upon the passing byeeze. 
 
 If you could pierce with magic eyes 
 
 The secrets of the lavender, 
 You'd find a thousand Fairylings 
 A-perching there, with folded wings. 
 And pouring sweetness into her. 
 
 Perhaps some tribe of Fairy-folk, 
 If you are bright and diligent, 
 Will run away from flowei;s, and start 
 As birds to twitter in your-heiart, 
 And share with you their scent ! 
 
 45 
 
THE CANARY AND THE MOUSE 
 
 A VERY bright-eyed little mouse, 
 When running in my Auntie's house, 
 Perceived a cage, and overheard 
 The pipings of a golden bird : 
 
 " Day in, day out, I have my fill 
 Of seed and sugar for my bill ; 
 However hot the blazing sky. 
 My water-bowl is never dry. 
 
 " My mistress sees that I am fed. 
 And loves to stroke my velvet head ; 
 She tells that slinking wretch in fur 
 Canary bones are not for her ! 
 
 " I'm safe and happy when I cling 
 Upon the wires, or stand to sing. 
 For everyone who likes to hear, 
 A song that shakes the chandelier. 
 
 " No breezes put me in a fret. 
 No raindrops make my feathers wet ; 
 Week in, week out, I have my fill 
 Of seed and sugar fot my bill." 
 
 On hearing this, the silky mouse 
 Began to lo6k about the house 
 In hope of finding for her share 
 A cage supplied with pleasant fare. 
 
 46 
 
THE CANARY AND THE MOUSE 47 
 
 And in a corner near the fire 
 She found a house of wood and wire, 
 With not the smallest sign to say 
 That trespassers must go away ! 
 
 The friendly door was open wide, 
 A meal of cheese was spread inside ; 
 Not waiting to reflect, the dunce > 
 Decided to walk in at once. 
 
 » 
 On happy toes she crept along, 
 Encouraged by the goldbird's song ; 
 But when she bit the cheese's rind 
 She heard a slapping noise behind ! 
 
 An inch beyond her grey-silk tail 
 
 The door had shut ! The mouse went pale ; 
 
 For now there was a sign to say 
 
 That trespassers were bound to stay ! 
 
 The mouse's heart went pit-a-pat 
 As there in wretchedness she sat 
 And listened to the son^-bird's clear 
 Announcement shake the chandelier : 
 
 " However hot the blazing sky. 
 My water-dish is never dry ; 
 Year in, year out, I have my fill 
 Of seed and sugar for my bill." 
 
 Perhaps the little grey-silk mouse 
 Again is running in the house. 
 For Auntie Ada let her go 
 Because her heart was thumping so ! 
 
A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 She didn't linger there to say 
 " Good-bye " or " Thanks " or "Lovely day " ! 
 But rushed along the cupboard's* back 
 And tumbled headlong down 9, crack ! 
 
 " Year in, year out, I have my fill 
 Of seed and sugar for my bill," 
 Canary cried. " But east or west," 
 Quoth Auntie, " liberty is best ! " 
 
THE PRINCESS 
 
 I'm a little Princess, and I live in a home 
 Without window or, chimney or staircase or dome. 
 
 Though my flesh is as white as a basin of milk, 
 Yet I cover it all with a thin piece of silk. 
 
 Though the smarter Princesses may rustle and mock, 
 I despise change of fashion, and wear the siame frock, 
 
 BeUeving the colour and cut are the best 
 
 That were chosen for me when my body was dressed, 
 
 V- 
 And delighted in meadow, contented by stream, 
 With my costume the colour of dairymaid's cream. 
 
 I have brothers and sisters and cousins in scores. 
 Yet I never Consent to receive them indoors. 
 
 For I'm anxious and busy in working to rhyme 
 Exactly with Nature, and cannot spare time 
 
 To gossip and giggle and loll in a chair 
 
 With a riband and tortoiseshell comb in my hair ; 
 
 Or to grieve the piano by thumping a scale, , 
 Till the white notes look black and the black notes 
 look pale ; 
 
 i 
 For my duty-in-chief is to grow in my dress 
 Of remarkable silk to a perfect Princess, 
 
 D 49 
 
50 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 And so to behave that the King of our race 
 Shall consider my work with a smile on His face. 
 
 I'm a little Princess, and I live in a home 
 Without window or chimney or staircase or dome. 
 
 When the stars cool the forest, I always keep snug 
 In a bed without eiderdown, blanket, or rug; 
 
 And I cuddle in solitude, warm and aloof 
 
 From the crack of the thunder, the rain on the roof. 
 
 When the Dawn shakes my shoulder, I never com- 
 plain, 
 Or lie lazy in bed till I slumber again. 
 
 For I'm glad to be busy at working to rhyme 
 Exactly with Nature, and must not lose time. - 
 
 Little Children, perhaps you are longing to guess 
 What's the name of the girl in the everyday dress. 
 
 With a body as white as a basin of milk, 
 Though she covers it all with a thin piece of silk. 
 
 I am Hazel the Woodnut ! I live in a home 
 Without window or chimney or staircase or dome. 
 
 I am Hazel the Woodnut, determined, to rhyme 
 Exactly with Nature, and never waste time; 
 
 For my duty-in-chief is to grow in my dress 
 Of remarkable silk to a perfect Princess, 
 
 And so to behave that the King of our race 
 
 Shall examine my work with a smile on His face. 
 
THREE HOPES 
 
 I ALWAYS hope the bird will fly 
 
 So high, so high, 
 That not a single leaden dot 
 In all the swarm of nasty shot 
 Will bring her tumbling from the sky 
 
 To die. 
 
 Don't you ? 
 
 If not, please do. 
 
 I always hope the fox's track, 
 
 By hill, by stack, I 
 
 Unstayed will be when yokels shout 
 To turn the runner roundabout 
 And help to plunge upon his back 
 
 The pack. 
 
 Don't you ? 
 
 If not, please do. 
 
 1 always hope the fish will try 
 
 So snug to lie 
 That not the cleverest sort of hook 
 Will pierce him in the silver brook 
 And drag him to the heavy sky 
 
 To die. 
 
 Don't you ? 
 
 If not, please do. 
 
 51 
 
THE REWARD 
 
 I FLUNG a splendid cherry-log upon the fire, and broke 
 A lump of coal, to see the flames of blue and 
 green and pink ; 
 I put two crimson cushions in my chair of Irish oak 
 And settled down to rest awhile from paper, pen, 
 and ink. 
 'Twas pleasant, when the log began to crackle in the 
 blaze. 
 And sometimes suddenly to spit, as though it 
 were acat, ' ; 
 
 To let my memory run about in far-off happy days 
 And dress me in an overall and ribboned sailor 
 hat. 
 
 I plainly saw my Mother, in the lilac-coloured dress 
 She spoiled the day we scrambled in the patch of 
 raspberry canes. 
 I seemed to hear her calling me ; I seemed to feel 
 her press 
 Her handkerchief upon my niouth, to wipe away 
 the stains . . . 
 What noise was that behind my chair ? Whose 
 breathing could it be ? 
 What ghost had come to trespass ^nd to make the 
 sound I heard ? 
 No wonder that the raspberry canes I threaded in 
 my glee 
 Had vanished in a wink of time ! — for this is 
 what occurred : 
 
 52 
 
THE REWARD 53 
 
 A touch upon my shoulder made me feel as though 
 a pack 
 Of goblins, ripe for mischief, had assembled near 
 my chair. 
 Intent on ramming icicles by dozens down my back 
 And twisting all the curliness and comfort from^ 
 my hair. 
 Each throbbing of my heart was like a blacksmith's 
 hammer-stroke. 
 And well I knew that both my cheeks were look- 
 ing snowdrop-pale ; 
 But ere my tongue could find its use, an unseen 
 Stranger spoke : 
 Old Santa Claus would much enjoy a chat with 
 Norman Gale. 
 
 At once a tide of happy blood came rushing to my 
 face, , 
 
 So sudden was the loss of fear, so sudden the 
 "Surprise. 
 I jumped from out my easy-chair, and put him in* 
 my place, 
 And laughed a joyous welcome to the laughter in 
 his eyes. 
 " Excuse me if I bothered you," the Master kindly 
 said, 
 " And made you think a ghost had passed in 
 silence through the wall. 
 This year I've risen earlier than usual from my bed. 
 Before the time for chimney-pots; and so I 
 thought I'd call." 
 
 " I'm very greatly honoured." " Please don't men- 
 tion it ! " he cried ; 
 " I know you love nie thoroughly, and never fail 
 to sing 
 
54 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Of beds with counterpanes on top and human lambs 
 inside. 
 And rows of stockings hungry for the packages I 
 bring. 
 Because you make these songs for me, and make 
 '' them Vith delight, 
 
 I'm eager to reward you in whatever way you pick ; 
 So search among your wishes for the dearest wish 
 to-night. 
 And let me have the pleasure of repaying you. 
 Be quick ! " 
 
 Because I scarcely knew at first what pleasant thing, 
 to ask 
 He wagged his half-a-yard of beard amusingly, 
 and -smiled. 
 " If kind enough," I said, " to let me watch the 
 lovely task. 
 Please fill the Christmas stocking of my Mother 
 when a child." 
 Before my busy silver clock had ticked a second dead, 
 The fire went out, the lamp went out, and such a 
 blackness fell 
 As seemed to have the heavy weight of copper or of 
 lead, 
 And made me think of darkness at the bottom of 
 a well. 
 
 When blackness turned to moonbeams, I discovered 
 at my side 
 A bonny child asleep among her locks of primrose 
 gold : 
 I knew her in a moment, by the happiness and pride 
 That spoke to me of Mother, when no more than 
 six years old ! 
 
THE REWARD 55 
 
 Before I'd kissed the little palm laid open on the 
 sheet, 
 I clearly heard along the . slates a bumping scjrt of 
 noise ; 
 And next, to my astonishment, there fell upon his 
 feet. 
 Among the ashes, Santa Claus, with oranges and 
 toys ! 
 
 He packed her stocking tightly with the treasures 
 he had brought, 
 And placed a doll upon a chair besidcx a walnut 
 box. 
 Before he reached in front of me his blessing hand, 
 and sought 
 To smooth as tenderly as I the wealth of golden 
 locks. 
 " If other children in the past had failed me, she 
 alone," 
 He whispered softly in my ear, " was worth the 
 deepest snow. 
 I loved her as I should have loved a lambkin of my 
 own. 
 And always used to kiss her — thus !— some sixty 
 years ago." 
 
 No sooner had he kissed her than a darkness blotted 
 out 
 The bed, the floor, the walnut box, the doll upon 
 the chair. 
 I lost the beauty of the lips that sliimbered in a 
 pout, 
 I lost the primrose colour of the heavy mass of 
 hair. ... 
 
56 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 What noise was that behind me ? ^ Who tugged me 
 by the sleeve ? 
 Who bade me rouse myself at once and join a 
 game of Snap ? 
 One nephew and two nieces ! Yet I hardly can 
 believe 
 That such a heavenly reward was nothing but a 
 nap ! ' 
 
THE FRENCH BOY 
 
 Little Pierre from far away 
 In the sunny south of France 
 Came to learn and love and play 
 AU the year with Bell and Lance, 
 While his parents crossed the seas, 
 Sailing quickly to Japan. 
 English friends were glad to please 
 Friends in France as dear as these, 
 So they took the little man 
 Home with them. A charming plan, 
 Pretty Pierre ! 
 
 Eyes he had of larkspiir blue. 
 Hair the shade of cowslip gold, 
 Nimble little feet that flew 
 Quick as wings not very old. 
 When he stood to say his grace 
 Slowly in a foreign tongue. 
 Surely angels in the place ' 
 Watched that almost angel face. 
 Smiled when Peter's treble flung 
 Me this question, 'Ms eet wr^ung, 
 Mistaire Gaal ? " 
 
 When his parents sailed away 
 Oversea from far Japan, 
 In our wotk and in our play 
 Lost we then the little man. 
 
 57 
 
58 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 But we keep him in our breast, 
 Held by love's enduring link, 
 Where for always he shall rest. 
 Go he east or go he west ! 
 Memory hears him, gay and pink, 
 Call the question, " Vat you tink, 
 
 Mistaire Goal ? " -* 
 
A PERFECT FIT 
 
 The baby starlings very soon 
 
 Will wonder at the sky. 
 And watch the silver-seeming moon 
 
 In loveliness go by. 
 Next week their little eyes will stare 
 
 As if beneath a spell ; 
 But just at present they must wear 
 
 An overcoat of shell. 
 
 Forget-me-nots have such a blue 
 
 As all the jackets bear 
 While keeping out the rain and dew 
 
 And sharpness of the air. 
 All snug inside, as ships in port, 
 
 The birdlings never dream 
 How cunningly the tailor wrought 
 
 The coats without a seam. 
 
 If you had found a tailor-man 
 
 To- fit you just as well 
 As fit Ijy some ingenious plan 
 
 The overcoats of shell, 
 Instead of racing down the stairs 
 
 And dancing twenty jigs 
 You would have played in Uncle's pears 
 
 At see-saw on the twigs ! 
 
 59 
 
THANK YOU, LITTLE BOY 
 
 For the loan of golden head, 
 
 For the simple joy, 
 For the frolic on the bed, 
 
 Thank you, Little Boy ! 
 
 Though my hair in silver flows, 
 
 Though my joints are stiff, 
 I can play at buffaloes, 
 
 Trample, bellow, sniff. 
 
 Hurried, worried, all the day. 
 
 Longing for the night. 
 How my breast at once was gay 
 
 When you flashed in sight ! 
 
 When you could have played with Dick, 
 
 Humphrey, Jack, and Sue, 
 It was sweet of you to pick 
 
 Me to play with you. 
 
 Trust me most of all to share 
 
 Frolic here with you. 
 Thinking me the fondest bear. 
 
 Dearest kangaroo ! 
 
 For the breath of Long Ago, 
 
 For the cup of joy. 
 For the change to buffalo, 
 
 Thank you. Little Boy ! 
 
 60 
 
THE INSURGENT 
 
 Once dear, twice dear, 
 Thrice dear, fall asleep ! 
 Was ever such a babie. boy 
 For gleaming like a spark, 
 And showing me a rosebud 
 By a fairy of a pout 
 In between the dusk and dark ? 
 Let playfulness go out. 
 And sleepiness come in, 
 Dearikin. 
 
 Once dear, twice dear, 
 Thrice dear, fall asleep ! 
 Was ever such a babie boy 
 For kicking like a foal. 
 And underneath the pillows 
 Fiercely burrowing about 
 Like a busybody mole ? 
 Let playfulness go out, 
 And sleepiness come in, 
 Dearikin ! 
 
 Once dear, twice dear, 
 Thrice dear, fall asleep ! 
 Was ever such a babie boy 
 For keeping wide awake, > 
 
 61 
 
62 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 And worrying his mother 
 Into feverings and doubt 
 For his more than golden sake ? 
 Let playfulness go out, 
 And sleepiness come in, ! 
 Dearikin ! 
 
A TALE OF THE TREES 
 
 Long ago, when Dame Nature had settled the bees 
 And the blossoms in union, she turned to the trees 
 For a change. 
 
 She discovered them met in a place like ^ park. 
 To complain very much at the absence of bark 
 From their trunks. 
 
 , If the truth must be told, when the trees first began. 
 They were started in life on a sensible plan. 
 For their good ; 
 
 With a coating to keep them uphurt and serene 
 In their work of uplifting an ocean of green 
 To the blue. 
 
 But the sun was so thumpingly hot, that in pride 
 They unbuttoned their bark, and conveyed it aside 
 To a heap, 
 
 Where it shrivelled and mouldered, till Autumn 
 
 again 
 Bid the trees to remember the thunder and rain 
 In the wilds. 
 
 They decided to heed this grandmotherly fcharge ; 
 But the clothes had got small and their waists had 
 
 got large 
 
 In the sun ! 
 
 63 
 
64 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 As they drew themselves in, and attempted to fit 
 The bark to their bosoms, by bit and by bit 
 It grew le§is ; ' 
 
 Till at last it all tumbled to pieces, and lay 
 
 For the frolicsome ants to explore in their play ^ 
 
 Or their work. 
 
 Then the agohised trees in their fury began ^ 
 
 To consider the question, Who started the plan 
 Of undress? 
 
 So the oak blamed the beech, and the beech from 
 
 his place 
 Leaned across till he slapped the big oak in the face 
 With a branch ! 
 
 Next the pigeons took sides in the hullabaloo, 
 
 And persistently cried. It was yoo ! It w^as yoo-oo ! 
 
 It was yoo-oo-ooo ! 
 
 And the magpies assembled in hundreds, to see 
 What was best to be done to enrage every tree 
 Rather more ! 
 
 But if Nature was watching, she wisely declined 
 All at once to convey a new coating of rind 
 To the trees ; 
 
 For she feared, if she took them at once from their 
 
 pain. 
 That in August the spendthrifts might vex her again . 
 As before. 
 
 So in May, when her million and milUon of bees 
 Were in love with the honey, she turned to the trees 
 For a change. 
 
A TAI.E OF THE TREES 65 
 
 She discovered them met in a place hke a park, 
 To prepare and to sign a petition fpr bark 
 On their trunks. 
 
 So she wrought, in a workshop no mortal can reach. 
 Such a slaty-grey jerkin to give to the beech 
 For his own ! 
 
 With a leathery tunic of durable grey 
 
 She delighted the poplar and sent him away 
 
 In repair. 
 
 To the muscular oak she presented wjth joy • 
 A remarkable cassock of tough corduroy 
 Of the best. 
 
 For the sake of the cherry such genius was i^pent 
 That her blouse was a mingling of colour and scent, 
 As you see. 
 
 Now the elm and the ash and the quince and the 
 
 pear 
 And the bullace and medlar and hornbeam were 
 
 there 
 For a gift. 
 
 With the willow and apple and holly and hme, 
 And the rest of the trees. (You will learn them in 
 
 time, 
 I daresay !) 
 
 There she toiled till she almost felt ready to drop ! 
 But she loved them so much that she hated to stop 
 In -her task. 
 
66 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Thus she dressed them in tunics and cassocks and 
 
 coats, 
 And dismissed them to wave over barley, and oats 
 In the fields. 
 
 When she thought she had done, she discovered a 
 
 birch 
 That was standing behind her, as tall as a church, 
 Or a tower. 
 
 " But, my darling ! " cried Nature, " the pieces of 
 
 stuff , 
 
 That remain in my workrpom are hardly enough 
 For your skirt ! 
 
 " 'Tis .a shame ! But, my love, I'm too weary to 
 
 match 
 What your sisters have got. Would you mind a 
 
 big patch ^ 
 
 Here and there ? " 
 
 "Not a bit ! " said the Birch. " What I dread is 
 
 the cold 
 In my bones when the hurricane roars on the wold 
 All the night, 
 
 " And so long as I'm shug, not a fig shall I mind 
 If you patch me in front of my frock, or behind. 
 Rest assured." 
 
 " Such a sensible girl," quoth the Goddess, " shall 
 
 wear 
 In the patches a stuff so eritrancingly fair 
 For the eyes, 
 
A TALE OF THE TREES 67 
 
 " That her lovers shall evermore look from the rest 
 Of her gown to the exquisite stain on the breast 
 Of the robe. 
 
 " I will patch it with cloth that I fashioned, dear 
 
 girl, 
 Out of silver and moonbeams and mother-of-pearl 
 One July. 
 
 " Turn you round ! Shut your eyes for a minute ! 
 
 Beware 
 Of the ache to behold what I do to you ! There ! — 
 It is done ! 
 
 " Get you gone, Silver Birch, to the whispering-place 
 Of the woodfolk, and show them the magical grace 
 Of your gown. 
 
 " Fare you well ! Till the earth is a-weary of trees, 
 On your bosom or waist, on your shoulders or knees. 
 You shall bear, 
 
 " As a sign that I love you, a moonbeamy shred 
 Of the stuff I employed when my heart and my head 
 Were so tired ! 
 
 ■" When the heart in my bosom is aching for rest, 
 I shall think of your frock, and the day you were 
 
 dressed. 
 Silver Birch ! " 
 
 This was ages gone by ! All the trees are prepared 
 To forget how their ancestors dismally fared 
 Long ago ; 
 
68 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Every oak is a model of how to behave, 
 Every beech is a gentleman, sober, and grave, 
 And polite ; 
 
 But the pigeons so ponder the tale in their breast 
 That they cannot attend as they ought to a nest 
 For the young. 
 
 They appear to have nothing whatever to do 
 
 But remark to the trees, It was yoo !. It was yoo-oo ! 
 
 It was yoo-oo-ooo ! 
 
THE SEA'S MESSAGE 
 
 " Behold the friend of children ! " 
 
 Said the Sea unto the Sand. 
 " Let them love me where my waters 
 
 Make a marriage with the land. 
 In my shallows many a treasure 
 Gleams to win their pretty* leisure. 
 As I kiss their feet in pleasure," 
 Said the Sea unto the Sand. 
 
 " Here's a rainbow on a pebble," 
 
 Said the Sea urtto the San4 ; 
 " For the babies on my beaches 
 
 Round the world it has been planned. 
 I have fish to pass them fleetly, 
 I have sponge to wash them neatly, 
 And a tune to hum them sweetly," 
 Said the Sea unto the Sand. 
 
 " When their little hearts are weary," 
 Said the Sea unto the Sand, \ " 
 
 " Of the lanes and lawns of counties 
 Far beyond my golden strand. 
 
 Let them bring their pining faces 
 
 Tq my kisses and embraces. 
 
 Dig their forts and run their races," 
 Said the Sea unto the Sand. 
 
 69 
 
GOLDEN FURZE 
 
 When with a pinafore I went 
 
 Bareheaded, in the shine or showers, 
 I thought the furze had gold at root, 
 _ Because the furze had golden flowers. 
 
 Then with my wooden spade I dug 
 Bareheaded in the shine and showers, 
 
 In hope to find the hidden gold 
 That fed the furze's golden flowers. 
 
 Eager I parsed the secret place 
 
 Where elves h,ad made their tiny bowers. 
 Why not ? 'T\Kas plain the furze's root 
 
 From gold had drawn the golden flowers. 
 
 Resolute childhood ! Simple child 
 By fancy touched in gleaming hours. 
 
 And happy by the very plan 
 That never uses gold in flowers ! 
 
 Lovely at last the knowledge came. 
 As came my heart's expanding powers, 
 
 That had the furze been fixed in gold 
 She could not bear her golden flowers. 
 
 70 
 
DINAH 
 
 Our Dinah is a Persian cat 
 
 Too beautiful for words ! 
 She wears about her neck a bell 
 
 To warn the garden-birds. 
 
 Her eyes are blue as thrushes' eggs, 
 Her coat is brown as cloves, 
 
 And when she's wakeful, in my lap 
 She kneads her little loaves. 
 
 If you could see how diligent 
 Her paws are when they knead, 
 
 You'd think she had at least a score 
 Of kittycats to feed. 
 
 And often, lying in my lap, 
 
 So velvety and still. 
 With steadiness she grinds and grinds 
 
 A little coffee-mill. 
 
 To hear the lovely miller grind. 
 To watch her knead, is sweet ; 
 
 It makes me want to pick her up 
 To kiss her face and feet. 
 
 I love her sleeping in the sun, 
 
 A hot and silky bale ; 
 I love her when she tries to pounce 
 
 Upon her shadow's tail. 
 
 71 
 
72 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 I'd rather have her for my pet 
 Than guinea-pigs or birds ; 
 
 For Dinah is a Persian cat 
 Too beautiful for words ! 
 
^ . THE APPRENTICE 
 
 It was very early Christmas, but I couldn't sleep a 
 wink. 
 Though the clock upon the stairs was striking 
 three, 
 For my brain was making Mary twenty tales about 
 a fairy, i 
 
 To be told when she was cuddKng on my 
 knee. 
 Having finished the eleventh, I lay musing in my 
 bed. 
 Till a crash aftiong the fire-irons made me start ; 
 But before I'd time to wonder at the shock of in- 
 doors thunder 
 Came a voice that somehow satisfied my heart. 
 
 " Since my bones are growing weary, and the winds 
 are more than keen, 
 I have need of you to help me for a time. 
 You have gathered word-sweet posies for my breath- 
 ing Christmas Roses, 
 And have set my Christmas chimney-pots to 
 rhyme. 
 If I search the whole world over I shall never find 
 a friend 
 With a larger love for children in his breast ; • 
 So prepare without a grumble to take headers, and 
 to tumble 
 In a thousand nursery fenders on your chest." 
 73- 
 
74 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Then a cloak was flung around me. In a moment 
 I had passed 
 Through the ceiling, and was perched upon the 
 tiles. 
 With my face toward the county where the heart- 
 delighting bounty 
 Of my playmate's lovely hair is known for miles. 
 But a touch upon my shoulder turned me quickly to 
 the north, 
 And I listeined to the Master while he spoke 
 Such a charm as set me flying over fields and hedges 
 lying 
 Far beneath the moon-lit crimson of his cloak. 
 
 As I flew behind the Master, with the toys upon my 
 back, 
 He was singing, in the roundest sort of bass. 
 All about the happy fevers of the boy and girl 
 believers 
 In his frosted beard and winter-cherry face. 
 Tiny bells began to tinkle on the harness of the 
 goats 
 When he roared the chorus part with all his 
 might. 
 And the very stars above him seemed to smile upon 
 and love him 
 As he swept— a crimson comet— through the 
 night. 
 
 By a certain damaged weathercock, I saw that we 
 were bound 
 For a vicarage whose chimney-pots I knew ; 
 And .without a thought of peril I Went plunging 
 down to Beryl 
 And to Christopher and Hilary and Sue. 
 
THE APPRENTICE T5 
 
 Ah, the more than loving look upon the face of 
 Santa Claus 
 When he crept totvard a couple Sweetly paired ! 
 By the way his blue eyes glistened ~when he turned 
 his head and listened 
 To their breathing, I could tell how imich he 
 cared. 
 
 But the velvet of the eyelids and the roundness of 
 the chin 
 We at last beheld in Mary's wooden bed ! 
 From the valley of the pillow streamed a silvery^ 
 golden billow 
 Of the glory on that famous little head. 
 She was roses bunched with snowdrops as she lay 
 with half a pout, 
 Half a froMrn, upon the beauty of her face. 
 There was never Christmas morning had so lovely 
 an a,dQrning 
 Since the Manger ^shone with Everlasting Grace. 
 
 Then I packed an empty stocking with as much as 
 it could hold, 
 And arranged a garden city on a chair. 
 While the Master murmured slowly something trem- 
 ulous and holy 
 To the innocent believer in his care. 
 I was smiling at the gilded cock upon the church's 
 vane. 
 When the room and Mary rolled away in smoke, 
 Arid I felt my body dashing through the tiles again 
 arid crashing 
 With such force upon my bedstead that. I woke ! 
 
76 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 For a minute I was nearly dead, or else afraid to 
 stir, 
 So I lay and thought of broken legs and arms, 
 And decided it was risky to accompany a frisky 
 Sort of wizard to the mansions and the farms. 
 When I told the stdry later to the children by the 
 fire 
 There were questionings and cries at every pause. 
 I was tugged about and "screamed at, I was kissed 
 and stroked and beamed at, 
 As Apprentice to thq famous Santa Claus ! 
 
LULLABY 
 
 Fall asfeep. Lambkin ! Mother is going 
 Out in the snowing and out in the blowing 
 To dance with Daddy the New Year in. 
 Many a message will fly to you. Lambkin, 
 Dozens of times she will cry to you. Lambkin, 
 Deep in her heart, and will hie to you, Lambkin, 
 When dancing ii? done and the New Year in. 
 Fall —fast— asleep — 
 Dear ! 
 
 Fall asleep. Lambkin ! Mother is going 
 Out in the snowing and out in the, blowing 
 To dance with Daddy the New Year in. 
 Fairyfolk belfries will ring to you, Lambkin, 
 Birds of enchantment will, sing to you. Lambkin, 
 Home-again Mother will wing to you. Lambkin, 
 When dancing is done and the New Year in. 
 ■ Fall — fast— asleep . . . 
 There ! 
 
 n 
 
HOME 
 
 Although his parents always tried 
 
 To make him happy in the nest, 
 A little thrjush, dissatisfied, 
 
 His naughty temper still expressed. 
 At last, so wicked he became, 
 
 The tender-hearted mother-bird 
 Was forced with gentleness to blame 
 The dreadful things she overheard. 
 
 " Whatever's that I hear you mumble ? 
 Why, darling, darling, do not grumble ! 
 The nest you live in may be humble,- 
 But it is also — home ! 
 
 " Because they know there's love for all. 
 
 With food by day and warmth by night. 
 The wrens are wondering why you squall. 
 
 Instead of keeping good and bright. 
 They have a dozen babes, and fear 
 The bad example you have set ; 
 So cease this misbehaviour, dear. 
 And in forgiving I'll forget. 
 
 I cannot bear to hear you mumble. 
 Why, darling, darling, do not grumble ! 
 The nest you live in may be humble. 
 But it is also — home ! " 
 
 This shows that sometimes precious pearls 
 Of wisdom from a bill can drop 
 
 To help all grumbling boys and girls 
 To learn their naughtiness, and stop. 
 
 78 
 
HOME 79 
 
 When Mother works and Father toils 
 
 To keep them snilg from day to day, 
 Think how it grieves their hearts, and spoils 
 Their time of rest, to have to say, 
 "What's that ? What's that we hear you mumble ? 
 ' Why, Peter, Lizzie, do not grtimble ! 
 The house we live in may be humble, 
 But it is also— home ! " 
 
A DIRECTION 
 
 LiT^TLE Girl and Little Boy, 
 
 If you would reach to the Plain of Joy, 
 
 Where love is commoner far than bread. 
 
 Where tears and temper both are dead, 
 
 Where lessons sing themselves in words- 
 
 As tuneable as songs of birds. 
 
 Where hands and laps are full of roses, 
 
 Where summery season never closes, 
 
 Tramp, tramp, and tramp on still ( 
 
 Along the road to Rainbow Hill ; 
 
 Tramp, tramp, and tramp again. 
 
 Girl and Bpy, with a will, will, will. 
 
 Up to the top of the Rainbow Hill, 
 
 Then down the slope that leads to the Plain 
 
 By Starland Stile and Heavenly Lane. 
 
 80 
 
ADA'S SPELLING 
 
 A LETTER reached me yesterday 
 That made my heart exceeding gay ; 
 " I am," the writer begged to say, 
 " Affeckshuiiilly Yores." 
 
 I seemed to glimpse the curls of gold 
 Upon the paper, fold by fold, 
 While Ada was, with scratches bold, 
 " Affeckshunilly Yores." 
 
 And now I wish I dared to write 
 To Auntie Prim this very night 
 And end the letter, with delight, 
 " Affeckshunilly Yores." 
 
 I thank you, Ada, for your skill 
 In giving me so sweet a thrill. 
 And trust ypu think of me as still 
 " Affeckshunilly Yores." 
 
 8i 
 
PERFECT PUPILS 
 
 Your alphabet, Priscilla, 
 Extends from A to Z. .;',-; ' 
 
 The snowdrop isn't nearly 
 
 ^ So bothered in her head ! 
 
 But yet she bends her bonnet 
 Above a desk of earth, 
 
 And always looks too busy 
 For such a thing as mirth. 
 
 I'm very fond, Priscilla, 
 
 Of flowers that never blink 
 At what the sun keeps writing 
 
 So fast with golden ink ; 
 But more I love to notice 
 
 The blopms that seem too shy 
 To read with upturned faces 
 
 The gratomar of the sky. 
 
 Each tiny snowdrop scholar 
 
 Beside our wooden fence 
 Deserves to win a medal 
 
 To-day for diligence. ^ 
 Constantia isn't saucy, 
 
 And Mercy isn't bold, ' 
 And Patience isn't crying 
 
 Because her feet are cold ! 
 
 82 
 
PERFECT PUPILS 83 
 
 But each of them is looking 
 
 As if she hasn't yet 
 Had time enough to master 
 
 Her Uttle alphabet. 
 She therefore bends her borinet 
 
 Above a desk of earth, 
 And looks a world too busy 
 
 For such a thing as mirth ! 
 
THE PLAYFELLOW GIANT 
 
 The Playfellow Giant, who lives but to play ' 
 With the children he loves so, at peeping of day 
 Was eager to think of the numberlfess heads 
 Of dear little bodies in dear little beds, 
 And delighted to know that the chubby and slim, 
 With the fair and the dark, and the tousled and 
 trim. 
 Every dehcate Mary, each riotous Tim, 
 Was expected at eight to have breakfast with 
 him. 
 So he got a loaf of Wakefulness^ as big as any hill, 
 And he cut it into islices, did this Giant of Goodwill, 
 As he thought of radiant children playing 
 scampers in his sight. 
 Yes, you honey-hearted dear ; yes, you robin, yes, 
 He cut the magic loaf in two, he cut with all his 
 might. 
 And on every round of Wakefulness he spread a lump 
 of Light! 
 
 The Playfellow Giant, who lives but to play 
 With the children he loves so, at ending of day. 
 While laughing to think of the capital fun 
 Of the darlings it pleased him to bake in the 
 sun. 
 Was told by the Tubfellow Danie that a war 
 Of the sponge must begin with the dirt and the tar. 
 As she knew by a voice that had travelled afar 
 From the silvery lips of the Soapbubble Star. 
 
 84 
 
THE PLAYFELLOW GIANT 85 
 
 So he got a loaf of Sleepiness, as big as any hill, 
 And he cut it into slices, did this Giant of Goodwill, 
 As he thought of joy to-morrow in the meadow 
 and the park. 
 Yes, you honey-hearted dear ; , yes, you robin, 
 yes, 
 He was counting on to-morrow, and was singing 
 like a lark 
 As on every slice of Sleepiness he spread a lump of 
 Dark ! 
 
THE HAPPY SWAN 
 
 I OFTEN think the snowy swan 
 
 Has, very few expenses : 
 He never seems to pay a fine. 
 
 Whatever his offences. 
 
 r 
 
 Along the merry stream he floats, 
 
 A blest and happy Sailor 
 Who never needs to have his chest 
 
 Examined by a tailor. 
 
 His coat, mysteriously supplied, 
 
 Is such he never folds it ; 
 No seams upon the garment show. 
 
 And not a button holds it. 
 
 Instead of brush and comb, his beak 
 Among his plumage passes ; 
 
 And all the places where he swims 
 Have lovely looking-glasses. 
 
 The children run to offer him 
 Both bread and cake together, 
 
 And try their best to make him pltimp 
 In days of browning weather. 
 
 If life upon the surface gets 
 
 By chance a little harder. 
 He simply stands upon his head 
 
 And searches in his larder. 
 
 86 
 
THE HAPPY SWAN 87 
 
 'Tis needless for the swan to keep 
 
 A penny in his pocket ! 
 Why, if he has a chick, the lake 
 
 For love is glad to rock it ! 
 
 From Christmas time till Christmas time 
 
 Again with snow commences, 
 'Tis very plain the happy swan 
 
 Has next to no expenses ! 
 
NOBODY KNOWS 
 
 Nobody knows 
 
 Why the daisybud chose 
 To smell like a daisy, 
 
 And not like a rose. 
 
 Nobody knows 
 
 Why the daffodil grows 
 Such gold for her tresses, 
 
 Such green for her toes. 
 
 Nobody knows 
 
 Why the columbine shows 
 A dove that is going, 
 
 But never quite goes. 
 
 88 
 
THE APOLOGY OF FATHER CHRISTMAS 
 
 " No doubt," said Father Christmas, " there is 
 virtue in this plan ' 
 
 Of sleeping hard throughout the year. I feel a 
 different man! 
 Twelve months ago, when I had pleased uncounted 
 girls and boys 
 By diving down their chimneys with a lot of 
 various toys, 
 I felt as if an enemy had beaten me with thongs 
 And stabbed my arms and legs and chest and 
 shoulder-blades with prongs. 
 My fingers jerked with weariness, my brain was far 
 from light. 
 The soot had filled my wrinkles, and I looked a 
 dreadfxil sight ! 
 I thought, as home I staggered to my fairies and my 
 fire, 
 I'd publish in the papers my intention to 
 retire ! 
 
 But that was when I could not take 
 A single step without an ache ! 
 Yet now I want to see the billows 
 Of little girls' hair on lily-white pillows." 
 
 " I hardly think," he murmured, as he filled the 
 heavy sack 
 He meant to take from roof to roof upon his 
 ancient back, 
 
 89 
 
90 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 "I hardly think I look my age, although my beard 
 is such 
 As clergymen' would dearly like, if they could 
 grow as much ! 
 My sinews feel as merry as of old they used to be 
 When first the rdcking-horse began to trust his 
 'Spots to me, 
 And every bone is ready, from the largest to the 
 least. 
 To help me on the house-tops through this busy 
 Christmas Feast. 
 My sleep has doctored me so well, I hardly fear the . 
 curves 
 Of those old-fashioned chimney flues ! and they 
 are bad fpr nerves ! 
 
 I faltered* when I could not take. 
 A single step without an ache, 
 But now I want to see the billows 
 Of little girls' hair on lily-white pillows." 
 
 If you had seen with what an air old Father 
 Christmas flung 
 The sack across his shoulder-blades, you must have 
 thought him young. 
 He stood as firm as mountains, while he said his 
 magic o'er. 
 And then with bird-like easiness rose gently from ' 
 the floor 
 And floated through the window, with his beard and 
 toys and smiles, 
 To land a moment later on a patch of frosty tiles. 
 When there, the nloon assisting him, he rummaged 
 in his pack 
 For what must go by chimney-post to Betty, Nell, 
 and Jack ; 
 
THE APOLOGY OF FATHER CHRISTMAS 91 
 
 He whispered to a rocking-horse, he led him to the 
 flue, 
 And then, before the moon could wink, they dis- 
 appeared from view. 
 
 Once more he stood beside a bed 
 With cosy sheets and blankets spread, 
 , And smiled to see the flooding billows 
 Of little girls' hair on lily-white pillows. 
 
 " To think," said Father Christmas, on returning to 
 the tiles, 
 " I grumbled at a paltry pain ! I'd go ten 
 thousand miles 
 For just a peep at Nellie's mouth, the rose-red lips 
 iapart, 
 Delighted by a lambkin dream skip-skipping in 
 her heart. 
 So long as children love me well, so long will I accept 
 The Labour of the Chimney, be it crooked or un- 
 swept ! 
 So long as children hold me dear, so long / will I 
 prevail,, 
 Though Johnny Frost half kills me with his cata- 
 pult of hail, 
 And gather, as my recompense for twinges on the 
 leads, 
 . A million human rosebuds, dreaming Christmas 
 in their beds. 
 
 What matter though I cannot take 
 A single step without an ache ? 
 I stroke in love the flooding billows 
 Of little girls' hair on lily-white pillows." 
 
" SORTER KINDER " 
 
 My mother always teases Dick 
 Because he twitters like the birds, 
 
 As if he hadn't time to pick, 
 
 As Daddy does, the proper words. 
 
 They tumble from his mouth, and gO 
 With all their speed to Baby's ears, 
 
 Though mother wants him not to. know 
 What's wrong or rough, because she fears; 
 
 The bad example Dickie sets 
 Will stop in Baby's curly head ; 
 
 For there is nothing Tim fprgets 
 Of what were better left unsaid ! 
 
 I heard him yesterday declare 
 
 To Mrs Dacre's little boy— 
 The one with silver in hjs hair — 
 
 He had a " sorter kinder " toy. 
 
 When Daddy heard, he threw his pen 
 Upon the floor, and cried for help ! 
 
 As Fido does if heavy men 
 
 Sit down on her and make her yelp. 
 
 He tugged the bell. And when the maid 
 Along the red-tiled passage ran. 
 
 He shouted, till she grew afraid. 
 For Auntie Ada's biggest fan ! 
 
 92 
 
" SORTER KINDER " 93 
 
 But when I cried, he shook with glee, 
 And fell against the parrot's cage. 
 
 I might have known that Dad's would be 
 A merry " sorter kinder " rage ! 
 
THE TRAP 
 
 On waking up to drink my cup 
 Of early morning tea, I found 
 A metal hare; a Johnny Bear, 
 A donkey in a wooden pound, f 
 And other treasures laid in rows 
 By merry Meg beneath my nose 
 When I was sleeping 
 Never so 
 Fast. 
 
 I laughed, aloud, and put the crowd 
 
 Of playthings on the coverlet ; 
 And blessed the child by whom so mild 
 And innocent a trap was set, 
 With little bubblings of delight. 
 Before the sun was very bright. 
 When I was dreaming 
 Never so 
 Deep. 
 
 At last I heard a choky word. 
 
 Or giggle, underneath my bed, 
 Whereat for me, with shouts of glee. 
 Up sprang the sun of Margaret's head I 
 And when I took the mite to hold, 
 In bed, the pillow shone lijte gold 
 While we were cuddling 
 Never so 
 Hard. 
 
 94 
 
CHRISSY IN THE CORNER 
 
 'Tis sad to think that Chrissy Reeve 
 Has made herself and Governess gripve. 
 I'm sure that none of you can guess 
 The reason for their keen distress. 
 
 To save your time, I mean to tell 
 The naughty deed of Christabel. 
 You will not blame me, I suppose, 
 If rhymes are used instead of prose ? 
 
 The parrot's sugar had been set 
 Between the bars for him to get. 
 
 When Chrissy said to Dick, " I think 
 We'll dip that sugar in the ink." 
 
 She put it back. The bird began 
 
 To say he didn't like the plan. 
 
 He said so gnce, with might and main, 
 And then he said so twice again. 
 
 When Governess discovered why 
 
 He lifted up his voice so high, 
 
 She pointed out to Chriss and Dick 
 The naughty nature of the trick. 
 
 But Chrissy said, " I cannot think 
 Why Polly shouldn't eat the ink, 
 When very often on my plate 
 There's tapioca, which I hate ! " 
 95 
 
96 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 " Be silent ! " cried the Governess ; 
 " How caw the bird like such a mess ? " 
 r " Oh, very well " (here Chrissy turned 
 Her nose up), " then it's time she learned ! 
 
 Now, Children, you will all perceive 
 _ What's making Chriss and Governess grieve. 
 I wonder when the girl will say 
 She'sf good, and smile her tears away. 
 
FAIRY NURSES 
 
 When Baby wants to go to sleep 
 The Fairies flock beside his bed ; 
 
 Along the eiderdown they creep 
 Toward the treasure of his head. 
 
 With hands as soft as robin's wing 
 They stroke his hair the sleepy way, 
 
 And silverly in chorus sing 
 
 The song that breaks the heart of day. 
 
 His little ears are guarded well, 
 That htiman noises shall not break 
 
 The silence in the magic cell 
 
 So sweetly spread for slumber's sake. 
 
 If suddenly the Baby sighs, 
 
 Or clutches at his lily gown, 
 Two Fairies sit upon his eyes 
 
 To keep the lovely eyelids down. 
 
 But when at length the Babe is deep 
 In rest shall last till glint of morn, 
 
 Th6 Fairies scamper home to reap 
 Their many fields of fairy corn. 
 
 97 
 
THE UNLEARNT LESSON 
 
 " My dear, as you are getting strong, 
 
 'Tis time," said Mrs Velvet Mouse, 
 " For you at last to come along 
 
 And spy the secrets of the house. 
 A little journey we will make 
 
 By passage, hole and larder-shelf. 
 That you may find what's best to taike. 
 
 And henceforth learn to help yourself. 
 
 " Whein you were tiny I was glad 
 
 To search with eagerness for crumbs ; 
 And not infrequently your Dad 
 
 Found bits of rind or sugarplums ; 
 But now that babyhood must stop, 
 
 'Tis wise to cultivate your wits 
 To dodge the under-housemaid's mop. 
 
 And also Whiskerando Spitz. 
 
 " I've talked about this cat before, 
 
 So now, my love, I will explain 
 Why little caiges on the floor 
 
 Delicious toasted cheese contain. 
 How many mice have had to pay 
 
 A bitter charge for silly pride, 
 Through lacking strength of mind to stay 
 
 And sniff the toasted cheese outside! 
 
 98 
 
THE UNLEARNT LESSON 
 
 " My lamb, if you would grow to be 
 
 In course of time a married mouse, 
 And teach a nimble family 
 
 To be a credit to the house, 
 Remember, steadfastly avoid 
 
 The toasted cheese's fragrant breath ! 
 To nibble is to be destroyed. 
 
 For bait hke this is, frankly, death ! 
 
 " Observe this lump of Cheddar, hooked 
 
 To tempt your uninstructed eyes ! " 
 The mouseling shivered as he looked, 
 
 And squeaked a promise to be wise. 
 But, later in the year, one night 
 
 He rashly thought he'd disbbey, 
 And carry mother home a bite 
 
 Of toasted cheese for Christmas Day ! 
 
 The little goose (if I may call 
 
 A mouse a goose), to treat as naught 
 His gentle mother's care, and all 
 
 The gathered wisdom she had taught ! 
 By chance his parent, hunting bread. 
 
 Was close enough to hear the snap 
 The cunning prison made, and said, 
 
 " That heedless boy is in the trap ! " 
 
 Alas ! how frequently we find 
 
 Our pleasure change to dismal shocks ! 
 The child who bit that treacherous rind 
 
 Was Whiskerando's ChriiStmas-box ! 
 He never lived to frisk in glee, 
 
 Or settle down, a married mouse. 
 To teach a nimble family 
 
 To be a credit to the house ! 
 
CHANGEABLE WEATHER 
 
 How very changeable can be 
 
 The weather in the nursery ! 
 
 The sun was warm enough, at three, 
 
 To suit a basking lizard ; 
 And yet at four o'clock or so 
 The glass fell quickly, till with snow 
 Among the Dears began to blow 
 
 A disconcerting blizzard. 
 
 At three I left my work awhile 
 To take downstairs a beamy smile 
 And there discover just the style 
 
 Of merriment and caper ; 
 At four, with scratches on his nose, 
 The corner kicking with his toes. 
 Dear Dick was pouting at a rose 
 
 Upon the nursery paper ! 
 
 At fiye ofclocki affection's pain 
 So moved me that I went again. 
 In hope of sunshine after rain, 
 
 Among the darling sillies ; 
 And there were Marjorie and Nell 
 And George, with kisses making well 
 The wounds on Dickie's nose that fell. 
 
 And all as sweet as lilies ! 
 
 100 
 
SERIOUS SYDDIE 
 
 Serious Syddie's little breast 
 Is such a queer and liappy nest 
 
 Of fancies coming fast from joy 
 To be companions for the boy ! 
 
 Serious Syddie really thinks 
 A Fairy lives among the pinks, 
 
 And watches near the fragrant place 
 In hope to see her blushing face. 
 
 Serious Syddie often nods 
 
 ■ Asleep beside the goldenrods ; 
 And once a butterfly mistook 
 His dimple for a honeyed nook. 
 
 Serious Syddie, when he goes 
 To Pillowland to curl his toes. 
 
 Calls shadowy playmates from his head 
 To warm him as he lies in bed. 
 
 Serious Syddie never can 
 Be lonely child or lonely man. 
 
 For finches sweet and harebells slim ' 
 Are dear as boys and girls to him. 
 
 lOZ 
 
THE BEST FRIEND 
 
 My Daddy is the truest friend 
 
 The birds have anywhere ; 
 If swimming on the beamy lake 
 
 Or flying- in the air. 
 
 He knows their beaks and wings and tails, 
 Their topknots and their legs, 
 
 And how they make with clever bills 
 The cups to hold the eggs. 
 
 And sometimes when he sees a nook 
 
 Of safety in the quick 
 He says that he should build a home 
 
 Just there, if he were Dick ! 
 
 He gently peeps, and sure enough 
 
 He very often spies 
 A mother looking straight at him 
 
 With rather worried eyes. 
 
 Thus every summer Daddy kpows 
 
 A thousand nests, or more. 
 Among the lanes, upon the hills, 
 
 And all along the shore. 
 
 He tells me where the chaffinch hides 
 
 Away from all his foes 
 The lovely cottage that he built 
 
 So quickly with his nose ! 
 
 102 
 
THE BEST FRIEND 103 
 
 He never shoots ; he never steals 
 
 The babies or the eggs, 
 And neVer uses sticky stuff 
 
 To worry Uttle legs. 
 
 He even throws a kiss to birds 
 
 Assembled overhead 
 To gossip for a little while 
 
 Before they go to bed ; 
 
 And when they start for Africa, 
 
 And other foreign lands. 
 My Daddy watches from a hill 
 
 The fiitter-fiutter bands. 
 
 He hates to lose them, but he knows 
 
 The Spring will come again 
 And toss a thousand thousand dears 
 
 To field and wood and lane. 
 
 My Daddy is the closest friend 
 
 The birds have anywhere ; 
 If swimming on the beamy lake 
 
 Or twittering in the air. 
 
THE WISE HOLLYHOCK 
 
 A HOLLYHOCK with a charming flock 
 Of yellowy knobs, about the colour 
 Of Timothy's hair, though a trifle duller. 
 Grew long in the leg and stood up tg-U 
 Over the top of the orchard wall 
 - (As if it followed a golden flute 
 By a Fairy blown), in spite of the call 
 
 Of an apple-cheeked boy in a man-o'-war suit. 
 " Bloom as I want ! " cried the apple-cheeked boy, 
 " For I love you as much as my favourite toy. 
 Bloom prettily down to my fiAgers and stop 
 This ridiculous blooming from bottom to top ! 
 Are you listening ? " 
 
 The hollyhock with the charming flock 
 Of yellowy knobs, about the tinting 
 Of timothy's hair, though not so glinting, 
 
 At last was gentle enough t;o stay 
 A minute or two on its heayenward way, 
 
 No longer deaf and no longer mute. 
 But willing to say its sensible say 
 
 To the apple-cheeked boy in the man-o'-war suit. 
 " Never bloom down ! " cried the flower, with a 
 
 will, ^ 
 " For the best road to travel is always uphill. 
 Add beauty to beauty, and mind you don't stop" 
 Till you've- flowered in my fashion— from 
 bottom to top ! 
 Are you listening ? " 
 
 104 
 
THE RACE 
 
 I WONDEH, Children, if you know 
 
 That once a Tortoise told a Hare 
 He'd race him for a thousand pounds, 
 In spite of all his leaps and bounds ; 
 Yes, anyhow, and anywhere ! 
 
 The Hare, delighted at the chance 
 
 Of getting rich, with many smiles. 
 And trusting in his famous speed, 
 Exclaimed at once, " Agreed ! Agreed ! 
 Let's run a race of twenty miles ! " 
 
 They started, and' the nimble Hare 
 
 Went swiftly over field and plain, 
 
 But soon remembered he could stop 
 
 To have some luncheon in the crop 
 
 Before 'twas time to run again. 
 
 Thus, when the Tortoise came in sight. 
 
 The laughing Hare ran off in glee 
 Till he was far enough away 
 To rest himself once more, and say 
 (For he was ypunig) his A;B.C. 
 
 At last he heard the Tortoise come 
 
 With solemn steps across the moor, 
 So up he JTimped, and dashed ahead 
 Toward the hill-top, where he said 
 His Tables, up to ;^'our times Four. 
 105 
 
106 A MERRY^GO-ROUNP OF SONG 
 
 'Twas here he had a rather hot 
 
 Discussion with some silly mice, 
 Who, being ignorant, of course, 
 Kept squeaking in the golden gorse 
 
 That twice times twice (hurrah !) were twice* 
 
 Again the Tortoise lumbered up 
 
 And made the merry Hare depart. 
 He galloped swiftly for a time, 
 But then sat down to say in rhynie 
 A piece of verse he knew by heart. 
 
 Then running on, he saw at last 
 
 The goal of their amusing race ; 
 So, having somewhat of a stitch, 
 He rested near a ferny ditch 
 
 To bathe his overheated face. 
 
 'Twas long-ago remarked how pride 
 
 Before a fall not seldom goes ! 
 While musing on the thousand poimds 
 He thought he'd won by nimble bounds, 
 
 The stupid Hare began to doze. 
 
 Imagine how the Tortoise crept 
 On careful feet when he descried 
 
 His adversary, free of care. 
 
 Lie sleeping negligently there 
 As motionless as if he'd died ! 
 
 The Hare awoke, arose, and cast 
 A pitying glance or two behind. 
 
 No touch of fear that he was wrong 
 
 To sleep beside the ferns so long 
 Disturbed his boastful little mind. 
 
THE RACE 107 
 
 But when with elegance he reached 
 
 The poplar that was winning-post, 
 He gave a choking kind of scream, 
 And whimpered shrilly, " Do I dteam ? 
 Or do my eyes behold a ghost ? " 
 
 " The thousand pounds," the Tortoise said, 
 " If you, my friend, are not too tired, 
 
 I'd lik^ to have before you tell " — 
 
 The Hare let fly a harrowing yell. 
 And, throwing somersaults, expired ! 
 
 The moral, Children, is as plaii;i 
 
 As any moral well can be. 
 Ask Mother what it is ; ask Nursfe ; 
 Ask Cousin Kate ; ask Uncle Perce ; 
 
 But, let rtie beg you, don't ask me ! 
 
WEARY CHRISTABEL 
 
 My baby, it is time 
 To leave tlie flowering lime, 
 The thrush's feast of song 
 So lovdy and so long ; 
 For you are looking pale. 
 And I a-near the bed 
 Must be a nightingale 
 To sing above your head. 
 Fare-you-well 
 !v In Dreamy-Dell, 
 
 Christabel ! rv Vv 
 
 My baby, it is time 
 To hear the golden chime 
 Of fairy thrush's tune 
 In praise of fairy June ; 
 For you are weary-white. 
 And willing to repose 
 Till dawning brings a light 
 Half lily a:nd half rose. 
 
 Fare-you-well 
 
 In Dreamy-Dell, 
 Christabel ! 
 
 io8 
 
THE SWEET-PEAS, 
 
 To Frankie father gave 
 
 A packet of sweet-peas. 
 And let him have some ground 
 
 Beside the cherry-trees. 
 How often did we see 
 
 The bufey boy afar 
 At his ,L and A and B 
 
 And O and U and R ! 
 
 When all the peas were set, 
 
 And told to grow up strong, 
 The child began to fret 
 
 Because they took sq long. 
 At last, as hope grew less, 
 
 Poor Frankie had to cry 
 In his D and I and S 
 
 And M and A and Y. 
 
 But when the sweet-peas came 
 
 With greeny-whitey tips, 
 They had a darling name 
 
 Upon their baby lips. 
 Then Frankie's eyes with glee 
 
 Kept twinkling like a star 
 At the M and O and t 
 
 And H and E and R. 
 
 109 
 
A LITTLE GIRL'S HYMN 
 
 Dear Jesus, now that all my play 
 And simple work is put aside, 
 
 1 give a proper end to day 
 By seeking Thee at eventide. 
 
 While round about this place of rest 
 The light of day is growing dim, 
 
 I want to reach Thy gentle breast 
 With holy verses from my hymn. 
 
 Forgive me if upon the dress 
 I wear for Thee is spot or stain, 
 
 And help me in Thy tenderness 
 To wear it lily-white again. 
 
 Let me remember, when I rise 
 From sleep to run my little race. 
 
 The watching of Thy careful eyes. 
 The look of love upon Thy face. 
 
 For, if I often stay to think 
 
 Of all, that Thou hast done for me, 
 
 I shall not stumble on the brink 
 
 Of what my heart should do for Thee. 
 
 no 
 
BAD BELVIDERE 
 
 In a nest beneath a plant 
 There was once a tiny ant 
 Who was fond of saying " Shan't ! " 
 To his parents. 
 
 When his Mother said, " I'm faint, 
 There is such a smell of paint— 
 Bring some water." " No there ain't !" 
 Cried the rebel. 
 
 When his Dad said, " Belvidere, 
 Push that egg toward me, deaf." 
 Rudely he replied, " No fear ! " 
 Little silly ! 
 
 When his Governess said, " See, 
 Five and five are never three^" 
 He remarked, " Don't prate to me. 
 You old stupid ! " 
 
 This was more than she could bear. 
 Brushing back her yellow hair. 
 First she fixed him with a stare, 
 Then she spanked him. 
 
 In the nest beneath the plant 
 How she whopped the tiny ant 
 Who was fond of saying " shan't ! 
 To his betters ! 
 
 5J 
 
 III 
 
112 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Even then he laughed, and twice 
 Shouted out that it was nice ; 
 But he didn't say so thrice, 
 I imagine ! 
 
 When at last, in sudden fear. 
 She desisted, ants drew near. 
 Not a trace of Belvidere 
 They discovered! 
 
 He was gone, as goes the dew 
 When the sky is hot and blue. 
 Lou and Sue and Prue and Hugh, 
 Heed the warning ! 
 
 Gone fronx lessons, gone from play, 
 Gone for ever and a day ! 
 She had slapped him right away 
 Into nothing ! 
 
THE LETTER 
 
 Last night Jack Frost began again 
 To scribble on my window-pane, 
 
 And left a message, which I read 
 On popping quifekly out of bed. 
 
 He means to manage for my sake 
 To breathe so hard upon ^he lake, 
 
 That very soon a splendid sheet 
 Of ice will bear our happy feet. 
 
 Of course it is extremely nice 
 
 To have a letter made of ice 
 From one who uses silver towns 
 
 Instead of adjectives and nouns. 
 
 • 
 
 He also writes in ferns and flowers. 
 In vases, ships, and fairy bowers ; 
 
 But if he wrote in cats and birds 
 I'd read them just as well as words. 
 
 For what he wants to say is, " l)ick, 
 The ice is getting black and thick. 
 
 Don't let this lovely chance be lost. 
 
 Yours, till they melt me, Johnny Frost." 
 
 113 
 
THE ASTONISHING DANCE 
 
 " Dear me ! " quoth Father Christmas^ while he 
 stretched his legs and arms, 
 And eyed a coloured calendar that hung upon the 
 screen, 
 " I've woke a day too early for the villas and the 
 farms. 
 For homes however splehdid and for homes how- 
 ever mean. 
 Come hither, glass ! " A mirror flew and balanced 
 by his side, 
 To let ,him see his snowdrop beard and winter- 
 cherry cheeks. 
 His eyes (as blue as succory) were twinkling while 
 he cried, 
 " I, don't believe I've ag^d a bit in two-andrfifty 
 weeks ! 
 
 " This comes of sleeping like a log and never dream- 
 i];ig dreams 
 Of Anything but bedtime crops of little children's 
 hair. 
 Or else of rosy playmates hip-hurrahing on the 
 streams 
 That Frost has given overcoats of silver ice to 
 wear. 
 It's fifty years, or thereabouts, since such a thing as 
 this 
 Has happened in the palace where I rest when 
 work is done. 
 
 114 
 
THE ASTONISHING DANCE- 115 
 
 Ho ! Fairies, come and dress me ! It would worry 
 me to miss 
 This chance of giving all of you an evening feast 
 of fun." 
 
 I wish you children could have seen how fast the 
 Fairies rushed 
 To wait on Father Christmas when he scrambled 
 out of bed. 
 They washed him well with curded soap, they 
 combed him and they brushed. 
 And laughed their jingling laughter at the comic 
 things he said. 
 They took from out an oaken chest the crimson 
 . robe of state 
 
 And buckled on his willing feet a pair of scarlet 
 shoes ; ' 
 
 They brought a dozen sandwiches upon a golden pl^te 
 And special pies of mincemeat such as Fairies 
 always use. 
 
 When Santa Claus had had his fill, with fingers and 
 . with thumbs 
 They searched the folds of crimson cloth and 
 tidied up his beard, 
 And threw upon the cirpet quite a lot of^flaky crumbs 
 To feed a pair of robins that had suddenly 
 appeared. 
 Then Father Christmas said to them, " It's long 
 since there occurred 
 An accident so pleasant. Let them light the 
 Dancing Hall ! 
 And since for once I'm wide awake upon the twenty- 
 third, 
 We'll rouse our ancient window-panes and rafters 
 with a Ball ! " 
 
116 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 In all of magic history there never was a night 
 So frolicsome as fell the night when Santa Claus 
 allowed 
 To every housemaid Fairy and to every kitchen sprite 
 A chance to leap and glide and twirl and curtsy 
 in a crowd. 
 The 'cellos and the violins were tuning in a trice ; 
 A sort of dancing fever burned in every nimble 
 heel ; 
 So Father Christmas raised his hands and clapped 
 them loudly twice, 
 And capered there whole-heartedly a most sur- 
 prising reel ! 
 
 Now, Hilary and Margaret and Christopher and 
 Nance, 
 I beg you never more to think that Santa Claus is 
 old. 
 His beard is quite deceptive ! His ability to dance 
 Is simply such as never, never, never can be told ! 
 The Fairies of his family all pride themselves on toes 
 That race the madcap violins and never want to 
 pause. 
 But even they are humbled when the frolic music 
 goes ^ 
 Exactly fast enough to suit the legs of Santa Claus ! 
 
 When Father Christmas waved his hand and spoke 
 in muttered tones, 
 , And let his secret magic loose within the hall of 
 oak, 
 The 'cellos gained enchanted limbs— yes, limbs with 
 proper bones ! — 
 And played ' themselves while dancing with the 
 nimble Fairy-folk ! 
 
THE ASTONISHING DANCE 117 
 
 Yet even then the headlong fun was hardly at its 
 best, 
 For how the violoncellos scraped a kind of happy 
 roar 
 While twanging from the lowest string the welcome 
 they addressed 
 To Santa's favourite Grandsire Clock skip-skipping 
 through the door ! ,, - 
 
 Since breathless dancers left -the dance and stood 
 awhile aloof, 
 Again^the Master's genius worked for everybody 
 there : ' 
 A flock of knives and forks and spoons descended 
 from the roof 
 And dishes heaped with lovely fruit came flying 
 through the air ! ^t 
 
 When Caleb brought with Joshua from Canaan such 
 a load 
 Of grapes as made the children leap in wonder 
 and delight. 
 The bunch was scarcely bigger than the glorious 
 bunch bestowed 
 By Santa on the Fairylings who danced with him 
 that night ! 
 
 In truth^it was a wondrous sight to see the crowd 
 
 of plates, 
 Each standing ready in the air before a little 
 
 guest; 
 And wonderful it was to hear the voices of the dates, 
 ^ Each asking to be eaten first, as if it were the 
 
 best ! 
 
118 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 No merrymaker present when this wonder-working 
 chanced 
 (The month it was December, and the day the 
 twenty-third) 
 Will ever tire of telling how the clock and 'cellos 
 danced, 
 Or how the cakestand flew about as lightly as a 
 bird! 
 
DICK'S SHARE 
 
 The Mother watched her darlings toss 
 
 The bedclothies like a rick ; 
 Beside her stood in restless mood 
 Delicate Cousin Dick. 
 She whispered to Jim, she whispered to Tim, 
 
 Till they both began to coo. 
 Dick pulled her frock of lavender-blue 
 As if he would tear it right in two. 
 And she turned with a will to scold him : 
 " Tell it me too," 
 
 Said Dick; '''boo-hoo!" 
 As she couldn't resist the child (could you ?) 
 She bent to his ear and told him. 
 
 Again the Mother tried to smooth 
 
 The children's snowy rick ; 
 Beside her stood in eager mood 
 Delicate Cousin Dick. 
 While purring to Jim and purring to Tim 
 
 She could hear the cherubs coo. 
 Dick pulled her gown of lavender-blue 
 As if he would tear it right in two. 
 And he made it crack, for she heard him ! 
 " Purr for me too," ' 
 
 Cried Dick; "boo-hoo!" 
 As she couldn't resist his face askew. 
 She bent to his neck and purred him ! 
 119 
 
120 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Once more the merry Mother stooped 
 
 Above the linen rick ; , 
 
 Beside her stood in dismal mood 
 Delicate Cousin Dick. 
 To cuddle with Jim, to cuddle with Tim 
 
 Was mirth and joy and coo ! 
 As if he would rip it straight in two, 
 Dick pulled her gown of lavender-blue, 
 And he cried till his cheeks were puddled ! 
 " Cuddle me too," 
 Howled Dick ; " boo-hoo ! " 
 As she couldn't resist his hullabaloo, 
 She lifted him up and cuddled ! 
 
THE BLUE-TIT 
 
 He is nothing but a blue-tit, 
 Just a bright and fluffy blue-tit, 
 And he comes to peck my suet half a hundred times 
 a day. 
 If he makes me mope or grumble 
 'Tis because he will riot tumble 
 In my pinafore, and stop with me to whistle or to 
 play. 
 
 He is hanging noddle downward, 
 With his velvet noddle downward. 
 And is staring at a sparrow that has found a crumb 
 of bread, 
 I can guess what he is jotting 
 In the tiny brain that's plotting 
 How to drive away the sparrow and to eat the crumb 
 instead ! 
 
 As I watch him in the ivy, 
 Soft as leaf upon the ivy, 
 I am sorry that his mother cannot him give sweets 
 and toys. 
 If he wore a little pocket , 
 
 I suppose he wouldn't stock it 
 Full of lozenges and brandyballs, like happy girls 
 and boys. ^ 
 
 121 
 
122 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 He is nothing but a blue-tit,^ 
 Just a shy and silky blue-itit, 
 And I love to watch his antics half a hundred times 
 a day. 
 If he makes me sigh or gi^umble 
 'Tis because he will not tumble 
 In my pinafore, and stop with me to whistle or to 
 play ! 
 
RUDE HILARY 
 
 Of all the difficult children to teach, 
 
 No boy could equal Hilary Peach. 
 
 When his Governess (pretty Aurelia Dix) 
 Showed six times six to be thirty-six, 
 
 Hilary said, with a weary air, , 
 
 " Well, it isn't my fault, so I don't much care." 
 
 She thought that a very good change would be 
 
 From Tables and Sums to Geography, 
 
 And remarked, as she reached the Atlas down. 
 That York was Yorkshire's capital town. 
 
 Hilary said, with a weary air, 
 
 " Why, the silly old thing might be anywhere." 
 
 A little later the Governess tried 
 
 The History book with the kings inside. 
 And explained how grumpily John agreed 
 To sign for his Barons at Runnymede. 
 
 Hilary said, with a weary air, 
 
 "Come, you mustn't blame me, for I wasn't there." 
 
 The third of these stupid and rude replies 
 
 Brought tears to Aurelia's velvety eyes. 
 But she swept that boy like a carpet broom 
 Along the floor to his parents" robm ! 
 
 " Unmannerly cub ! " his Father said ; 
 
 " When it's Christmas Day you shall spend it in 
 bed ! " 
 
 123 
 
UNCLE BARTY'S LULLABY 
 
 (Sung by him while playing the nursery piano) 
 
 Now the sun himself is rocking in his cradle of the 
 
 west, 
 And my Chickabids are lying rosy, cosy in the nest, 
 With a doll and toy and picture-book beneath the 
 
 pillows prest, 
 As the notes bob up and down for Uncle Barty. 
 
 As I see each cosy, rosy, human posy lying there, 
 In a gown as clean as milk, with moonlight kissing 
 
 curly hair, 
 I am thankful to the God who put these Flowers in 
 
 my care, 
 And am glad to be their precious Uncle Barty. 
 
 And it's twenty thousand times a week my happy 
 
 heart is told 
 That the joy we make for one another never can 
 
 grow cold ; 
 For my blue-eyed, dew-eyed Chickabids will want 
 
 me when I'm old. 
 And will always turn in love to Uncle Barty. 
 
 Now the time has come to sit by fairy bonfires on 
 
 the hill, , 
 
 Or to watch the hairy, fairy farmers carry corn to mill, 
 
 While the rosy, eosy, blue-eyed, dew-eyed Chickabids 
 
 lie still 
 
 In the room and bed and breast of Uncle Barty. 
 
 124 
 
UNCLE BARTY'S LULLABY 125 
 
 In the morning they will shake themselves like 
 
 daffodils in breeze, 
 And wiU rush to find upon the pane the frosty ferns 
 
 and trees ; 
 And at last will scamper down the stairs to climb 
 
 their favourite knees. 
 For to kiss the welcome face of Uncle Barty. 
 
 Now I bid each cosy, rosy, himian posy fall asleep. 
 For the mellow bells of Cradleshire their drowsy 
 
 ding-dong keep ; 
 And the Angelof the Bedside wants to bend him 
 down to peep 
 At the creamy, dreamy babes of Uncle Barty. 
 
 Sleep, my creamy, dreamy, beamy babes in heart- 
 delighting grace. 
 
 For the robins out of Slumberland are winging near 
 apace, , 
 
 And are ready on your eyelids fairy leaves and 
 flowers to place, 
 When your lips have cooed farewell to Uncle 
 Barty. <■ 
 
THE HOPEFUL HOLLY 
 
 " Do you notice near the fishpond," 
 
 Said a Holly to an Oak, , 
 " A delicious human fairy 
 
 Cuddled vfrarmly by her cloak ? 
 She is Dorothea Gooding, 
 
 And I want to have a spray 
 Of my holly in her pudding 
 
 On the Feast of Christmas Day. 
 
 " As I Watch her nimble footsteps 
 
 I am glad to know I bear 
 An abundant crop of berries 
 
 Such as make me doubly fair. 
 She is Dorothea Gooding, 
 
 And I'm eager to delight 
 All the sharers of her pudding 
 
 When tl^e pudding comes in sight. 
 
 " Since I often see her staring 
 
 With her eyes so hhi6 and big, 
 I believe she knows already 
 
 Which will be the honoured twig. 
 She is Dorothea Gooding, 
 
 And I long to have a spray 
 Of my holly in her pudding, 
 
 Like a flag, on Christmas Day ! " 
 
 126 
 
CAPTAIN EAGERHEART 
 
 Of all the tarry sailormen 
 
 There's none like Captain Eagerheart ; 
 For when the children rise from prayers 
 He sails a ship right up the stairs 
 And takes them on the deck in pairs, . 
 To leave the Port of Eiderdown 
 And sail with him from town to town 
 Along the coast of Dreamshire. 
 
 Of all the cargoes ever shipped 
 
 There's none like Captain Eagerheart's. 
 Upon his snow-white deck are borne 
 Sweet eyes as grey as early morn 
 And curls the colour of the corn, 
 To stand away from Eiderdown ^ 
 And sail from splendid town to town 
 Along the coast of Dreamshire. 
 
 Of all the trusty sailormen 
 
 There's none like Captain Eagerheart 
 For safely bringing home his ship, 
 With never a shaking of the lip, 
 However perilous the trip 
 
 From Fairy Town to Dra;gon Town, 
 
 From open sea to Eiderdown 
 Beyond the coast of Dreamshire", 
 
 127 
 
THE BEST GAME 
 
 When the earth-born children rock 
 
 Slowly, slowly into rest, 
 Thei^ the sky-born children flock 
 
 Out 6f Pearly School in quest 
 Of delight. 
 
 Since they live so far beyond, 
 
 We must try to be content 
 Not to see them round a pond, 
 
 Sailing there in merriment 
 Golden boats. 
 
 But at least we learn to see, 
 Looking from our earthly post. 
 
 What is largest in their glee ; 
 What they surely love the most 
 In their games. 
 
 Every night, as if bynile,, 
 When the Master moves away 
 
 From His desk in Pearly School, 
 All the children rush to play 
 In the street. \ 
 
 While they shake with thrilUng noise 
 
 Lovely air, till air is song. 
 We can almost hear the boys 
 Flogging silver tops along 
 Streets of sky ! 
 
 128 
 
THE BEST GAME 129 
 
 There a golden tipcat shone 
 
 ^or a minute, tilt it met 
 Heavy darkness ! It is gone ; 
 
 But the tops are spinning yet 
 Overhead ! 
 
 Greybeard Wisdom from afar 
 
 CaUing loudly, bids us think 
 Every top is but a star 
 
 Set gigantic on the brink 
 Of Surprise. 
 
 But it pleases us to dream ! 
 
 Long we stand, when eve is cool, 
 Looking for the Babes to stream 
 
 Once again from Pearly School 
 In a rush. 
 
 Now the Master moves away 
 From his desk, aijid i ^ids you fly, 
 
 Happy Children ! In your play 
 
 Flog the stars along the sky 
 
 Hour by hour ! 
 
THE LAPSE OF MEMORY 
 
 He leaned against a Devon oak, 
 His empty sack across his shoulder. 
 " This game is getting past a joke ! 
 
 I feel at least a century older. 
 But yet, if I have jnissed a child. 
 
 My heart will never know content— 
 Great Chimney ! (here he looked quite wild) 
 
 There's little Danny Dent ! 
 Without a doubt 
 My memory is wearing out. 
 
 "What bitter, bitter tears will flock 
 
 And fall if Danny's Day is joyless ! 
 Yet here I stand at five o'clock, 
 
 Bone-weary, famishing, and toyless. 
 Come, Silverwig ! Come, Fingerquick ! 
 
 Though half asleep and fairly spent, 
 Perform anew the famous trick 
 
 For little Danny Dent. 
 It's plain to see 
 
 I'm not the man I used to be." 
 
 The sack he flung upon the grouAd 
 Stood up, without a hand to guide it, 
 
 And wingless toys from all around 
 Flew fast as birds, and dropped inside it ! 
 
 130 
 
THE LAPSE OF MEMORY 131 
 
 " Neat Fingerquick ! Good Silvei-wig ! " 
 
 Cried Santa Claus in merriment. 
 " Here's what will make your stocking big 
 And bulging, Danny Dent ! 
 Without a doubt 
 
 My poor old head is wearing out." 
 
 The furious storm could nx)t subdue, 
 
 The slanted hailstones could not blind him; 
 However rapidly he flew, 
 
 His sack flew just as fast behind him. 
 , Whiz ! He was over Salisbury Plain. 
 
 Whiz ! He was crossing middle Kent. 
 In Deal he stroked your counterpane 
 And kissed you, Dapny Dent ! 
 His heart, you see, 
 
 Is where it always used to be. 
 
ALADDIN'S LAMP 
 
 Aladdin never thought to be , 
 A gentleman of high degr.ee, 
 To live in gorgeousness, and see 
 
 His house a house of prid6. 
 He never, never thought to make 
 A Genie build along a lake 
 A lofty palace for his sake. 
 
 And gild the rooms inside. 
 
 He rubbed with handkerchief or cap 
 A lamp he found. A thunderclap 
 Upset the lantern in his lap ; 
 
 A monstrous Genie; came, 
 And gravely said that he was there 
 To do his bidding, foul or fair, 
 Since what he enVied anywhere / 
 
 He only had to name ! — 
 
 A hundred sleek and milk-white mares, 
 A palace rich in ivory stairs. 
 And emerald apples, ruby pears 
 
 To fill *a thousand bags ; 
 An orchard made of silver trees, 
 A dish of diamonds, magic bees 
 Whose honey turned to gold — all these 
 
 He said were cheap as rags ! 
 
 132 
 
ALADDIN'S LAMP 133 
 
 Or would he like to have a flock 
 Of purple antelopes ? Or stock 
 A giant bird-cage with a roc 
 
 Instructed to be tame ? 
 Or keep a private moon to go 
 Above his'parklands, to and fro, 
 Whenever he would have it show 
 
 Its' face of silver flame ? 
 
 Aladdin's head was quickly turned 
 
 With dreams of splendour, ite discerned 
 
 Success in front of him, and burned 
 
 To have a royal bride. 
 The Genie brought him golden stems 
 Adorned with rubies ; pear-like gems. 
 And blazing stones for diadems 
 
 To suit the head of Pride. 
 
 The King allowed him to address 
 With loving words the young Princess, 
 And she allowed him to caress 
 
 Her locks of -radiant hair.' 
 They married. "In a single night 
 The Genie built for their delight 
 A palace of a glorious height 
 
 And, fabulously fair. 
 
 All went as if on velvet wheels : 
 No one was ever late for meals, 
 Or uttered angry words or squeals ; 
 
 The beds were never damp. 
 And thus the story had remained, 
 Delicious, sunny, and unstained, 
 But (how his bdthered heart was pained !) 
 
 Aladdin lost the lamp ! 
 
134 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Good-bye to Genie, jewels, gold, 
 The battlements, the coursers bold, 
 The lisping rivulet that rolled 
 
 Beside the palace wall. 
 Good-bye to frolic, and the sweet 
 Bewildering of the mazy feet 
 That timed the lute's inelodious beat — 
 A long farewell to all ! 
 
 For when the niiighty stag was dead, 
 And hunting finished, homeward sped 
 Aladdin to the banquet spread 
 
 By his enchanting wife. 
 Imagine (if you can) the start 
 Of I agony that shook his heart ! 
 For gone was every glowing part 
 
 Of what was once his life. 
 
 Aladdin, hearing from the King 
 Some horrid threats of torturing, 
 Half-heartedly caressed a ring 
 
 He wore upon his hand. 
 A Genie came ! He, using charms. 
 Conveyed him over fields and famis 
 And oceans in his mighty arms 
 
 Toward a foreign land. 
 
 Arid there, beneath a bluebell sky. 
 He saw his turrets. With a cry 
 Of starving love he hurried nigh, 
 
 Determining to beard 
 The grim Enchanter who had found 
 The precious Lamps and then had bound 
 The Slave to lift from off the ground 
 
 The palace he had reared. 
 
^ ALADDIN'S LAMP 135 
 
 Aladdin plotted to destroy 
 The dark disturber of his joy, 
 And use again in his employ 
 The Lamp's tremendous Slave. 
 The story ends as stories must 
 That tell of love's triumphant trust : 
 The grim Enchanter bit the dust. 
 And filled a worthless grave ! 
 
 Aladdin rubbed the Lamp. Behold, 
 From shapelessness the Genie rolled 
 Enormous muscles, as of old. 
 And arched his sinewy back ! 
 Like lightning through the air he went 
 Berieath his load of battlement. 
 Embraces, kisses and content. 
 Upon the homeward track ! 
 
THE* FEAST OF FAWKES 
 
 It was the popping Feast of Fawkes, 
 
 Wlien guys are carried, round, 
 And squibs explode along the road. 
 And nimble crackers leap and bound 
 In madiless on the ground. 
 
 It was the powdery Feast of Fawkes, 
 
 When <;hildren lose their head$, 
 And rockets try to singe the sky, 
 But fall in sticks upon the leads. 
 The pigsties or the sheds. 
 
 As I was thinking in my room, 
 
 I heard a little tap, 
 And knew at once a darling dunce 
 Was ready in his fisher-cap 
 
 And mother-woven wrap. 
 
 So Peterkin and Birdiesweet, 
 
 With hair of palest gold. 
 And Auntie Nell and Cousin BeU 
 Went down to dare November cold 
 ! And sticky garden-mould. ' 
 
 We had a giant Catherine Wheel, 
 
 As large as Peter's hoop, 
 And Demon's Tears (producing cheers !) 
 And something like a fiery scoop 
 
 Whiz-whizzing in a loop ! 
 
 136 
 
THE FEAST OF FAWKES 137 
 
 We aimed a rocket dn the air 
 
 To scorch the Milky Way ! 
 We danced around the bonfire's hound. 
 With many a hip-hipi-hip-hurray. 
 
 Like savages at play. ' 
 
 Although I think the Moon was vexed 
 
 To see us 9,t our prank, 
 We did not stop till with a flop 
 Our tiny neighbour, freckled Frank, 
 
 Fell headlong in a tank ! 
 
 And very, very late at night 
 
 <To Peter's room I sped ; 
 For how he screamed because he dreamed 
 That Roman Candles in the bed 
 
 Were shooting at his head ! 
 
 Though suddenly the Feast of Fawkes 
 
 Was clouded by distress. 
 Dear Cousin Bell and Auntie Nell 
 Behaved like angels ! How I bless 
 
 Their clever tenderness ! 
 
THE OLD KING 
 
 Although the King had never met 
 
 The sight or foe he feared, 
 The tears ran down his tawny cheeks 
 
 And sparkled in his beard : 
 For in his worn and ancient heart 
 
 A bell of memory tolled 
 A thought of little Absalom 
 
 When only three years old. * 
 
 Once more the King in fancy nursed 
 
 Th« Prince upon his knees. 
 To tell him of the eagle's flight, 
 
 The mountain's cloak of trees. ' 
 
 Once more he watched the velvet buds 
 
 Of childishness unfold 
 In Absalom the Beautiful 
 
 When only three years old. 
 
 Amdng the tents of Long Ago, 
 
 To please his dearest boy, 
 He traced a lion in the sand, 
 
 And laughed to see his joy. 
 Shepherd and Psalmist, on the tree 
 
 Of Titne were fruits of gol^ 
 When Absalom the Beautiful 
 
 Was only three years old ! 
 
 138 
 
THE LAST CHIMNEY 
 
 " This is the l9,st," said Santa Claus, . 
 
 And crouched behind the chimney-stack 
 To dodge the tomboy wind, because 
 , It played so fiercely with his sack. 
 " This is the last of lots and lots 
 Absurdly inconvenient pots 
 On villas, mansions, farms, and cots, 
 
 And all as black ais black I 
 
 " This is the last ; and well I kiiow," 
 Said Santa, shuffling with his feet, 
 
 " Who lies a dozen yards below. 
 All Velvet-soft and siugar-sweet. 
 
 Last year for my unworthy sake 
 
 Her little heart was pleased to ache. 
 
 She left a lump of fruity cake 
 For Santa Claus to eat" 
 
 He waved his heels, and nimbly slid 
 
 Adown the tunnel to the bed 
 Where Lizzie's face was almost hid 
 
 , By gold adrift from Lizzie's head. 
 Meanwhile upon the roof a fat 
 And puzzled, grey, half -Persian cat 
 Was wondering what the man was at, 
 Or whether he was dead ! 
 
 139 
 
140 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OIj' SONG 
 
 \Vhen Santa hurriedly appeared 
 
 In Lizzie's room, he had to pause 
 To hug himself, and stroke his beard, 
 
 And smile his Christmas smile, because 
 Upon a table, neatly spread 
 With cloth and plates beside the bed, 
 He found a sprawly note, which said. 
 Two pies for Santa Claus. 
 
 " No stocking in the world," quoth he, 
 
 " Shall hold so large a share of glee 
 As this you trust in love to me. 
 
 My sweet and thoughtful Liz." 
 Then, when at last the stocking's size 
 Was big enough for Santa's eyes. 
 He took the pair of mincemeat pies 
 And vanished with a whiz ! 
 
THE INVISIBLE STOCKING 
 
 Awake ! awake ! • 
 
 The sleepy head and lazy eyelids scornitig. 
 
 Now what is in your stocking, Bess, 
 
 To make a feast of happiness 
 
 On Christmas Day in the morning ? 
 " A dolly in a scarlet dress, 
 
 A lamb with bleating when I press, 
 A box of sweets, a little purse, ' 
 
 A dozen china dogs- from nurse. 
 And oranges and nuts and figs, 
 
 And two such darling silvet pigs- 
 All these are in my stocking. Dad, 
 
 On Christmas Day ih the morning ! " 
 
 Awake ! awake ! 
 The heavy head and lazy eyelids scorning. 
 Now what is in your stocking, Dick, 
 That looks as solid as a brick. 
 
 On Christmas Day in the morning ? 
 " A scarlet humming-top, a stick 
 Of sugar-candy, long and thick, 
 A pair of skates, a bird to fly 
 
 For yards and yards along the sky, 
 A telescope, a knife from Jane, 
 A whistle on a silver chain — 
 All these are in my stocking. Dad, 
 
 On Christmas Day in the morning ! " 
 141 
 
142 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 But, Children, learn 
 How angels filled with bounteous adorning 
 
 My unseen stocking (never knit 
 
 By mortal craft when lamps were lit) 
 On Christmas Day in the morning ! 
 A lady bright and exquisite 
 
 About my heart and chair' to flit, 
 A heap of ismiles, a bunch of bliss, 
 
 A son and daughterling to kiss, 
 The proper prayers to sing and say, 
 
 And lots of love to warm the day — 
 All these were in my stocking packed 
 
 On Christmas Day in the morning ! 
 
THE DEAREST AUNT 
 
 If you were asked to spend a week, 
 Dear Auntie Nell, in Fairyshire, 
 
 When ypu came home we'd scarcely speak 
 While sitting round the fire to hear, 
 
 But stay as silent as the birds 
 
 With heads beneath a roof of yvings. 
 
 And listen to a stream of words 
 Explaining heaps of fairy things. 
 
 How pink our cheeks would get ! How fine 
 To run like mad to School and tell 
 
 Of how you'd seen a class of nine 
 Young Fairies hardly fit to spell ! 
 
 And watched a Brownie feed a pet 
 Almost too siiiall to have a size ! 
 
 And heard a Goblin's flute, and met 
 A six-in-hand of dra,gon-flies. 
 
 And seen the fairy fisher-girls 
 
 Above the water fly about. 
 Till suddenly they dipped their curls 
 
 And caught a teeny-weeny trout. 
 
 Dear Auntie Nell, you must not say 
 You're far too old. It isn't true. 
 
 If anyone deserves to stay 
 A "week in Fairyshire, it's you ! 
 
 143 
 
THE| ROUND WORLD'S BABE 
 
 An Infant very long ago 
 
 In Bethlehem was lying. 
 He heard His weary father's voice, 
 
 His mother's sweet replying, 
 , The ox's heavy sighing. 
 While yet again He dimples there. 
 Run, Children ! Run to Him and share 
 With them the Lord beyond compare, 
 
 The Babies' Babe, Christ Jesus ! 
 
 In love to Mary's breast He clings. 
 
 As though already fueling 
 That perfect strength is strengthlessness ; 
 
 Unconsciously revealing 
 
 A heaven of appealing. 
 While yet again He blossoms there, 
 Run, Children ! Run to Him and share 
 With her the Prince beyond compare. 
 
 The Round World's Babe, Christ Jesus I 
 
 144 
 
THE LOSSES 
 
 (An Envoy to the Elders) 
 
 Where is the joy we lost, 
 That as a golden toy we tossed 
 Beyond the beck, along the moor, 
 While daffodils with yellow lips 
 Were dancing like a fleet of ships 
 A Merman's league of blue from shore ? 
 'Twas then we tumbled with our sling 
 Goliath as he leaped the spring 
 
 In Philistine array ! 
 Where is oiir flashing joy ? 
 We grew to think it silly, 
 And so it crept away. 
 Ah! 
 
 Where is the world we lost. 
 That as a coloured ball we tossed 
 From hand to hand with joyous cries, 
 Till Mother put it on a shelf, 
 And gave instead her lovely self 
 To look for Fairies in our eyes 
 
 Before we drooped each curly head 
 And hero^haunted limb in bed. 
 
 And still as stillness lay ? 
 Where is our coloured w;orld ? 
 We grew to think it silly. 
 And so it rotted away. 
 Ah ! 
 
 K 145 
 
146 A MERRY-GO-ROUND OF SONG 
 
 Where is the sleep we lost, 
 That as a velvet veiling crossed^ 
 Our eyes before the lids fell down,. 
 Apd dulled the sparkles of our brai^i 
 Till morning found us strong again 
 To dare the hump-backed giant's frown? 
 If we might chaiige to thieves, we know 
 What jewel to steal froJn Long Ago 
 
 To help us most to-day ! 
 Where is the sleep we lost ? 
 We fdlin love with riches, 
 . And so it ran away. 
 Ah ! 
 
THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBUHOH 
 

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