4271 5 py 2 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 022 204 595 2 ^ I^LMI.I- '^1 f0¥ Qass. Book. Jl ^1 THE PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. PROF . jA-^gi LMORE, AUTHOR OF " THE CHAUTAUQUA TEXT-BOOK OF ENGLISH LITERATURE,' " THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND ITS EARLY LITERATURE," ETC., ETC. BOSTON: HENRY A. YOUNG AND COMPANY, 24 Bromfield Street. 1881. COPYRIGHT, 1881, By henry a. young & CO. /Z- -bLoW Boston Stereotype Foundry, No. 4 Pearl Street. PREFACE. This little book is, as its title indicates, a *' Speaker." Leaving to others the nobler work of promoting the literary culture of the little ones, or contributing to their moral training, the editor has simply sought to provide them with suitable pieces for recitation and declamation. His selec- tions are, from his point of view, nothing, if not speakable, — and speakable by children between the ages of five and ten. It is hoped, however, that nothing which the volume contains will, either morally or aesthetically, offend a reason- ably severe taste. A few of the old favorites are included in the volume, since no such volume would be at all satisfactory without them ; but it is made up yerj largely of selections which for the first time make their appearance in a volume of this nature. For permission to make use of these selections, the editor gratefully acknowledges his indebtedness to their au- thors, and, also, to the publishing houses of Charles Scrib- ner's Sons, and Scribner & Co. To the firm last mentioned, — the publishers of St. Nicholas, — more especial acknowl- 4 PREFACE. edgment is due. But for their courtesy this little volume had come to an untimely end; for a good many pieces which seemed to the editor simply indispensable were cov- ered by their copyright. He has been accustomed to say to his friends: "You can't keep house without St. Nicholas, It ranks next, in point of necessity, to warm shelter, decent clothing, plain and wholesome food." Hereafter, he will have to add: "It is a perfect thesaurus of speakable pieces." University or Rochester, April, 1881. CONTENTS. PAGE Baby 9 Dolly's Wings 10 I'm such a Little Tot ... 10 Willie's Breeches 11 A ChUd's Troubles 12 Charley Boy 12 Grandma Always Does 13 Going to Bed * 13 Little Whimpy 14 The Little Angel 15 Stop, Stop, Pretty Water 16 A Housekeeper's Troubles 16 Seven Times One . . . . • 17 Chimes 18 The Little Bird's Lesson 18 Kow I Lay Me Down to Sleep 19 Wishing 20 Johnny the Stout 20 Frogs at School 22 Old Sol in a Jingle 23 Mr. Nobody 24 PoUy 25 What the Birds Say 26 The Queen in her Carriage is Passing by 26 Our Darling 27 BabvisKing . 27 Willie Winkie 28 Selling the Baby . 29 Planting Himself to Grow 31 What My Little Brother Thinks 31 Deeds of Kindness 33 Buttercups and Daisies 34 The Child's World 35 The Orioles . .35 The Crow 36 The Bluebh'ds 37 Three Bugs 37 CONTENTS. Gold-Locks and the Secret 38 Who Stole the Bird's Nest ? 40 Three Little Nest-Birds .42 Frightened Birds . 44 What the Sparrow Chirps 45 Three in a Bed 46 Discontent 47 Contented John . 48 In the Closet 49 The Homely Little Weaver .50 Making Hay 52 Chickadee . . . -^ . . . - 53 The Little Boy's Lament 54 From "The Psalm of Life" 54 Abou Ben Adhem 55 The Way to Do it 55 Little Chatterbox 56 Old Ironsides 57 Lads on the Ladder 58 The Life-Boat 59 New England's Dead 59 The Arithmetic Lesson 60 The Boy-King 61 March 62 The Frost 63 A Summer Song 64 How the Leaves Came Down . . ■ 65 Marjorie's Almanac 66 Flowers • 67 Strawberries 68 The Mischievous Brier 69 Ready for Duty 70 The Captain's Daughter 72 The First Snow-Fail 72 Little Mary's AYish 74 The Night Before Christmas 75 Hang up the Baby's Stocking 77 One Little Empty Stocking 78 King Christmas 79 The Nightingale and Glow- Worm 80 Grandpapa 80 Anna and Ned 81 Thanksgiving Day . • '^ • -^ .83 A Dream About the Old Nursery Rhymes 84 The Minuet . 85 A Fable 87 Daisy's Mistake 87 Two of Them ^88 Pussy's Class 89 All the Children 90 Naming the Baby 91 Pretty Little ........... 91 CONTENTS. What They Saj- 92 The Family Cat 93 Topsy-Turvy World 94 The Parson's Sociable ' . , .94 John Bottlejohn 95 Ten Little Injuns 96 A Little Boy's Pocket 97 The New Slate 97 Black Spiders 99 The Owl and the Pussy-Cat 99 Trials of a Twin • . . . . 100 The Dead Doll 101 A Baby's Soliloquy 103 A Telephone to Fairy-Land 103 AuntTabitha 104 The Crow's Children 105 Victuals and Drink 107 The First Party 108 Entertaining Her Big Sister's Beau 110 Chickens Ill Over in the Meadow 113 The Johnny-Cake 116 THE PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. BABY. Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into here. Where did you get those eyes so blue ? Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here. What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by. What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? I saw something better than any one knows. Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? Three angels gave me at once a kiss. Where did you get this pearly ear? God spoke, and it came out to hear. Where did you get those arms and hands ? Love made itself into bonds and bands. 10 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Feet, whence did you come, you darling things ? From the same box as the cherubs' wings. How did they all just come to be you? God thought about me, and so I grew. But how did you come to us, you dear? God thought about you, and so I am here. George Ma.cdonald. DOLLY'S WINGS. Mamma Biddy, look up here, See my dolly; ain't her dear? Love your chickens ? So does I. Wish my dolly''d learn to fly. Mamma Biddy, how get wings ? Buy 'em with the pedlar things? Guess I'se got free cents and two ; Mamma Biddy, won't that do? Laura Loring, in Wide Awake. I'M SUCH A LITTLE TOT, They said I couldn't speak a piece, I'm such a little tot ; That they were little once themselves, They surely liave forgot. IVe made my bow as prettily As did my bigger brother. IVe made my bow — you're laughing so — I guess I'll make another. J. H. G. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 11 WILLIE'S BREECHES. I'm just a little boy, yon know. And scarcely can remember. When people ask how old I am. To tell 'em four last 'vember. And yet for all I am so small, I made so many stitches For mamma's fingers that she put Her little boy in breeches. You may be sure that I was glad, I marched right up and kissed her, Then gave my bibs and petticoats, And all, to baby sister. I never whine, now I'm so fine And don't get into messes ; For mamma says, if I am bad. She'll put me back in dresses. There's buttons up and down my legs. And buttons on my jacket ; I'd count 'em all, but baby makes, Just now, an awful racket. She's sitting there, behind the chair. With blocks and dolls and kitty, A-playing '' go to mamma's house," Alone, and that's a pity. I think I'll go and help her some, I'm sure it would amuse me. So I won't bother any more To talk — if you'll excuse me. But first I'll stand before the glass — From top to toe it reaches ; Now, look! there's head, and hands, and feet. And all the rest in breeches. Anonymous. 12 PEIMAEY SCHOOL SPEAKER. A CHILD'S TROUBLES. BY PERMISSION. I "WISH I knew my letters well, So I might learn to read and spell ; I'd find them on my pretty card, If they were not so very hard. "Now S is crooked — don't you see? And G is making mouths at me, And O is something like a ball, — It hasn't any end at all. And all the rest are — my! so queer! They look like crooked sticks — oh, dear ! Ma counted six, and twenty more ; What do they have so many for? From St. Nicholas. CHARLEY BOY O, LOOK at my hat. How nicely it suits ! O, look at my feet, Tve got on new boots ! Hurrah, for Charley boy! My boots, they are stiff. My boots, they are tall. And they hold me up straight, So I cannot fall. Hjirrah, for Charley boy! I'll do mother's errands As well as I can ; I've got on new boots. And so I'm a man. Hurrah, for Charley boy ! Eliza Lee Follen. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 13 GRANDMA ALWAYS DOES. I WANTS to mend my wagon, And has to have some nails, — Jus' two, free will be plenty, — We're going to haul our rails. The splendidest cob-fences We're makin', ever was! I wis' you'd help us find 'em — Gran'ma oilers does ! My horse's name is Betsy ; She jumped and broked her head ; I put her in the stable. And fed her milk and bread. The stable 's in the parlor, — We didn't make no muss, — I wis' you'd let it stay there — Gran'ma oilers does ! I wants some bread and butter, I's hungry worstest kind ; But Toddie mustn't have none, 'Cause she wouldn't mind. Put plenty sugar on it. Just lots of it, because It's right to put on sugar — Gran'ma oilers does ! Anonymous. GOING TO BED. It isn't time to go to bed. The clock goes round too quick ; It hurts my back to lie in bed, And almost makes me sick. I want to show my uncle George My pretty birthday ring ; And sing him "Jesus loves me," For he likes to hear me sino;. 14 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER, My dollie, Haddenewya, Her yellow dress is thin, And she's sitting on tlie liorse-block, I forgot to bring her in ; I want to go and get her, — She'll catch a cold and die ; I want to get my nankerchick, I guess I'se got to cry. I said I'd wait till papa comes, I wonder what he'd think ; There's something hurts me in my throat, I want to get a drink. I guess I'd rather get it in My little^ silver cup, — What makes me have to go to bed When you are staying up? Anonymous. LITTLE WHIMPY. BY PERMISSION. Whimpy, little Whimpy, Cried so much one day, His grandma couldn't stand it. And his mother ran away ; His sister climbed the hay-mow. His father went to town. And cook flew to the neighbor's In her shabby kitchen-gown. Whimpy, little Wliimpy, Stood out in the sun. And cried until the chickens And the ducks began to run; Old Towser in his kennel. Growled in an angry tone, Til en burst his chain, and Whimpy Was left there, all alone. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 15 Wliimpy, little Whimpy, Cried, and cried, and cried. Soon the sunlight vanished, Flowers began to liide ; Birdies stopped their singing, Frogs began to croak. Darkness came ! and Whimpy Found crying was no joke. Whimpy, little Whimpy, Never'll forget the day When his grandma couldn't stand it, And his mother ran away. He was waiting by the window, When they all came home to tea, And a gladder boy than Whimpy You never need hope to see. Mart JSIapes Dodge, in St. Nicholas. THE LITTLE AXGEL. Right into our house one day, A dear little angel came ; I ran to him and said, softly, *' Little angel, what is your name?" He said not a word in answer. But smiled a beautiful smile ; Then I said : " May I go home with you? Shall you go in a little while? " But mamma said : " Dear little angel. Don't leave us ! Oh, always stay ! We will all of us love ^^ou dearly ! Sweet angel, oh, don't go away ! " So he stayed, and lie stayed, and we loved him, As we could not have loved another ; Do you want to know what his name is? His name is — my little brother ! Melodies for Childhood. 16 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. STOP, STOP, PRETTY WATER! ** Stop, stop, pretty water!" Said Mary, one clay, To a frolicsome brook That was running away ; " You run on so fkst! I wish you would stay ; My boat and my flowers You will carry away. " But I will run after; Mother says that I may ; For I would know where You are running away." So Mary ran on, But I have heard say That she never could find Where the brook ran away. Eliza Lee Follen. A HOUSEKEEPER'S TROUBLES. DoLLiE 's wet her Feet to get her Posies, in the morning dew ; Sure to be sick — Cold or colic — Like as not the measles too. There is Freddy, Always ready Into awful 'fairs to fall : Bad as Rosy — Doodness knows, I Don't know how to manage 't all ! Jack or Norah 's Telled a story ! PRIMARr SCHOOL SPEAKER. 17 One or fuver ate ma's cake! While there's silly, Greedy Willy Got a drefful stomach-ache ! Naughty Bessie Tored her dress ; she Wants an aver one, I s'pose; I tell you what, It tates a lot Of work to teep my dolls in tose ! Anonymo SEVEN TIMES ONE. There 's no dew left on the daisies and clover, There 's no rain left in heaven : I've said my " seven times " over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old, I can write a letter ; My birthday lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better. They are only one times one. Moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining, so round and low ; You were bright ! ah, bright ; but your light is failing - You are nothing now but a bow. You Moon, have you done something wrong in heaven, That God has hidden your face? 1 hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven. And shine again in 3'our ]Dlace. O velvet bee! you're a dusty fellow, You've powdered your legs with gold! O brave marshmary-buds ! rich and yellow, Give me your money to hold! 18 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. O columbine ! open your folded wrapper. Where two twin turtle-doves dwell ! cuckoo-pint! toll me the purple clapper That hangs in your clear green bell! — And show me your nest with young ones in it ; I will not steal them away ; 1 am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet — I am seven times one to-day. Jean Ingelow. CHIMES. BY PERMISSIOIf. Under the tree the farmer said, Smiling, and shaking his wise old head : *' Cherries are ripe! but then, you know. There's the grass to cut and the corn to hoe ; We can gather the cherries any day, But when the sun shines we must make our hay ; To-night, when the chores have all been done, We'll muster the boys for fruit and fun." Up in the tree a robin said, Perking, and cocking his saucy head : *' Cherries are ripe! aftd so, to-day, We'll gather them while you make the hay ; For we are the boys with no corn to hoe, No cows to milk, and no grass to mow." At night the farmer said: "Here's a trick! Those roguish I'obins have had their pick." Emily Huntington Miller, in St. Nicholas. THE LITTLE BIRD'S LESSON. *' Little bird, little bird, in the old apple-tree, How joyous and happy and gay you must be ; Your life is so merry, your voice full of joy. While I am a poor little unhappy boy. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 19 *' You have nothing to do but to spread out your wing And fly where you wish, or to sit still and sing, For every one listens to hear your sweet song. While I have to study the whole morning long.'' ''Little boy, little boy, do you know what you say? You think I have nothing to do all the day? I've a dear little wife, birdies one, two, and three, And a snug leafy home, in the old apple-tree. '' Sometimes I have naught for my loved ones to eat, And then they get hungry and cr}^ out for meat. Or, for fear boys should steal them, my watch I must keep. And at eve I must sing all my darlings to sleep. *' So you see, little boy, we have both work to do; And now you must study and try to learn too ; Then you will be happy as happy can be, Xor envy the bird in the old apple-tree." Grace Eddy. " NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP *' Now I lay," — repeat it, darling, — *' Lay me," lisped the tiny lips Of my daughter, kneeling, bending O'er the folded finger-tips. " Down to sleep," — "To sleep," she murmured, And the curly head bent low ; *' I pray the Lord," I gently added, *' You can say it all, I know." *' Pray the Lord " — the sound came faintly, Fainter still ~ " My soul to keep ; " Then the tired heart fairly nodded, And the child was fast asleep. But the dewy eyes half opened When T clasped her to my breast, And the dear voice softly whispered, " Mamma, God knows all the rest" Anonymous. 20 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. WISHING. ' Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring ! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creejD across, And the elm-tree for our king ! Nay — stay ! I wish I were an elm-tree, A great lofty elm-tree, with green leaves gay ! The wind would set them dancing. The sun and moonshine glance in. The birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing. Oh — no! I wish I were a robin, A robin or a little wren, everywhere to go; Through forest, field, or garden, And ask no leave or pardon, Till winter comes with icy thumbs To ruffle up our wing ! Well — tell ! Where should I fly to, Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell? Before a day was over, Home would come the rover, For mother's kiss — for sweeter this Than any other thing. William Allingham. JOHNNY THE STOUT. BY PERMISSION. **Ho, for a frolic!" Said Johnny the Stout ; *' There's coasting and sledding, I'm going out! " PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 21 Scarcely had Johnny Phinged in the snow, When there came a complaint Up from his toe : — *' We're cold," said the toe, " I and the rest; There are ten of lis freezing, Standing abreast." Then up spoke an ear : "My! but it's labor Playing in winter. Eh, Opposite neighbor?" *'Pooh! " said his nose, Angry and red ; ** Who wants to tingle? Go home to bed! " Eight little fingers. Four to a thumb, All cried together, *' Johnny, we're numb! " But Johnny the Stout, Wouldn't listen a minute ; Never a snow-bank But Johnny was in it. Tumbling and jumping. Shouting with glee. Wading the snow-drifts Up to his knee. Soon he forgot them. Fingers and toes, — • Never once thought of The ear and the nose. Ah, what a frolic ! All in a glow ; Johnny grew warmer Out in the snow. 22 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Often his breathing Came with a joke : " Blaze away , Johnny ! I'll do the smoke." '^Andrildothefire," Said Johnny the bold ; ** Fun is the fuel For driving off cold." Mary Mapes Dodge. FROGS AT SCHOOL. BY PERMISSION. Twenty froggies went to school Down beside a rushy pool : Twenty little coats of green, Twenty vests, all white and clean. *' We must be in time," said they; *' First we study, then we play ; That is how we keep the rule When we froggies go to school." Master Bullfrog, grave and stern. Called the classes in their turn; Taught them how to nobly strive, Likewise how to leap and dive ; From his seat upon the log, ^ Showed them how to say '' Ker-chog! " Also how to dodge a blow From the sticks which bad boys throw. Twenty froggies grew up fast : Bullfrogs they became at last ; Not one dance among the lot, - Not one lesson they forgot ; Polished in a high degree, As each froggie ought to be ; Now they sit on other logs. Teaching other little frogs. George Cooper. PEIJIAEV SCHOOL SPEAKER. 23 OLD SOL IX A JINGLE. BY PERMISSIOX. Hl-DIDDLE-DIDDLE, The Sim 's in the middle, And planets around him so grand Are swinging in space. Held forever in place, In the Zodiac's girdle or band. Hi-diddle-diddle, The Sun' s in the middle, And ^Mercury 's next to the Sun ; While Yenus, so bright. Seen at morning or night, Comes second, to join in the fun. Hi-diddle-diddle, The Sun 's in the middle. And tJiird in the group is our Earth; While ]\Iars with his fire, So warlike and dire. Swings round to be counted the fourth', Hi-diddle-diddle, The Sun 's in the middle, While Jupiter 'c next after Mars, — And his four moons at night. Show the speed of the light ; Next, golden-ringed Satui'n appears. Hi-diddle-diddle, The Sun 's in the middle. After Saturn comes Uranus far ; — And his antics so queer. Led astronomers near To old Xeptune, who dri^'es the last car. Mes. E. p. ^Millee, IX MoTHEE Teuth's ^Melodies. 24 PEIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. MR. NOBODY. I KNOW a fnnny little man. As quiet as a mouse. Who does the mischief that is done, In everybody's house. There's no one ever sees his face. And yet we all agree, That every plate we break, was cracked By Mr. Nobody. 'Tis he who always tears our books, — Who leaves the door ajar; He pulls the buttons from our shirts. And scatters pins afar. That squeaking door will always squeak. For, prithee, don't you see. We leave the oiling to be done By Mr. Nobody? He puts damp wood upon the fire. That kettles cannot boil ; His are the feet that bring in mud. And all the carpets soil. The i>apers always are mislaid ; Who had them last but he ? There's no one tosses them about. But Mr. Nobody. The finger-marks upon the door By none of us are made ; We never leave the blinds unclosed. To let the curtains fade. The ink we never spill ; the boots That lying round you see, Are not our boots ! They all belong To Mr. Nobody! Riverside Magazine. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 25 POLLY. Brown eyes, straight nose ; Dirt pies, rumpled clothes ; Torn books, spoilt toys ; Arch looks, unlike a boy's ; Little rages, obvious arts ; (Three her age is), cakes, tarts ;' Falling down off chairs ; Breaking crown down stairs ; Catching flies on tlie pane ; Deep sighs — cause not plain; Bribing you with kisses. For a few farthing bhsses. Wide-awake ; as you hear, *' Mercy's sake, quiet, dear! " New slioes, new frock ; Vague views of what's o'clock When it's time to go to bed, And scorn sublime for what's said. Folded hands saying prayers ; Understands not, nor cares ; Thinks it odd ; smiles away ; Yet may God hear her pray ! Bed-gown white ; kiss Dolly ; Good-night! that's Polly. Fast asleep, as you see ; Heaven keep my girl for me ! LiLLiPUT Levee. 26 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. WHAT THE BIRDS SAY. Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove, The linnet, and thrush say, '' I love and I love! " In the winter they're silent, the wind is so strong ; What it says I don't know, bnt it sings a loud song. But green leaves and blossoms, and sunny, warm weather, And singing and loving, all come back together. But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, The green fields below him, the blue sky above. That he sings and he sings, and for ever sings he, *'I love my love, and my love loves me." Coleridge. THE QUEEN IN HER CARRIAGE IS PASSING BY. Oh, the queen in her carriage is passing by ; Her cheeks are like roses, her eyes like the sky : Her wonderful teeth are white as new milk ; Her pretty blonde hair is softer than silk. She^s the loveliest monarch that ever was seen; You ask of what country the darling is queen; Her empire extends not to far-distant parts, She is queen of the household, the mistress of hearts. For sceptre she lifts her soft, dimpled hands ; Her subjects all hasten to heed her commands ; Her smile is bewitching, and fearful her frown, And all must obey when she puts her foot down. May blessings descend on the bright little head, From the time she awakes till she's safely in bed. And now do you guess, when I speak of the queen, 'Tis only our six months' baby I mean.^ Anonymous. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 27 OUR darli:n"g. Bounding like a foot-ball, Kicking at the door ; Falling from the table-top, Sprawling on the floor ; Smashing cups and saucers, Splitting dolly's head ; Putting little pussy-cat Into baby's bed. Building shops and houses. Spoiling father's hat, Hiding mother's precious keys Underneath the mat ; Jumping on the fender, Poking at the fire, Dancing on his little legs — Legs that never tire. Making mother's heart leap Fifty times a day ; Aping everytJiing we do. Every word we say. Shouting, laughing, tumbling, Roaring with a will, Anyw^here and everywdiere, Never, never still. Present — bringing sunshine ; Absent — leaving night ; That's our precious darling, That's our heart's delight. ]^LiTTHiAS Bare. BABY IS KING. A KOSE-CURTAIXED cradle, wdiere, nestled within Soft cambric and flannel, lie pounds seventeen ; 'Tis the throne of a tyrant ; that pink little thing Is an autocrat regal — for Baby is king. 28 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Good, solemn grandfather dares hardly to speak, Or walk, lest the sleeper should hear his boots creak; Grandma is a martyr in habits and cap, Which the monarch unsettles as well as her nap. Papa — wise and mighty — just entered the house, Grows meek on the threshold, and moves like a mouse To stare at the bundle, then outward he goes, Like an elephant trying to walk on its toes. The queen of the ball-room throws loyally down Before him the roses she wore in her crown, And sings little love-songs of whom site loves best: He cries when she stops, like a merciless pest. He flings right and left his saucy fat fist, And then the next moment expects to be kissed; He demands people's watches to batter about, And meets a refusal with struggle and shout. Then failing to conquer, with passionate cry He quivers his lip, keeps a tear in his eye. And so wins tiie battle — this wise little thing! He knows the world over, that Baby is king. Anonymous. WILLIE WINKIE. Wee Willie Winkie Runs through the town, Up-stairs and down-stairs In his night-gown ; Tapping at the window, Crying at the lock : "Are the weans in their bed? For it's now ten o'clock." "Hey! Willie Winkie, Are you coming then ?- The cat's singing purrie To the sleeping hen ; PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 29 The dog is lying on the floor, And does not even peep; But here's a wakeful laddie That will not fall asleep." Anything but sleep, you rogue ! Glowering like the moon ; Rattling like an iron jug With an iron spoon ; Rumbling, tumbling all about. Crowing like a cock, Screaming like I don't know what, Waking sleeping folk. *'Hey! Willie Winkie, Can't you keep him still? Wriggling off a body's knee Like a very eel ; Pulling at the cat's ear. As she drowsy hums — Heigh! Willie Winkie! See ! — there he comes ! " Wearied is the mother That has a restless wean ; A wee, stumpy bairnie. Heard whene'er he's seen, — That has a battle aye with sleep Before he'll close an e'e ; But a kiss from off his rosy lips Gives strength anew to me. William Miller. SELLING THE BABY. Robbie's sold the baby! Sold her out and out ! And I'll have to tell you How it came about. 30 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER, When on New Year's morning Robbie's opening eyes Spied the brand-new baby, — What a glad surprise ! Constantly he watched her, Scarcely cared to play. Lest the precious baby Should be snatched away. "Now, he's gone and sold her! For to-day he ran And proclaimed to mamma, "Yes, I've found a man! *' Here's the man '11 buy her! Get her ready, krick ! " With an air of business. Brandishing a stick. ** Sold my baby, Robbie? " Mamma sadly said ; Robbie, quite decided, Bobbed his little head. ** Well, if this man buys her, What will he give you?" ** Oh, two nice big horses. And five pennies, too! "What's the good of babies? Only 'queal and 'cream! I can go horse-backin' When I get my team." But when quiet night came, Robbie's prayers were said. And he looked at baby In her little bed. And he said, when baby Smiled in some sweet dream, "She's wurf forty horses, 'Stead of jess a team!" PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 31 Baby's wee pink fingers Round his own he curled : " She's wnrf all the horses In dis whole big world ! " The Home Garden. PLAXTIXG HIMSELF TO GROAY. Dear little bnght-eyed "Willie, Always so full of glee, Always so very mischievous, The pride of our home is he. One bright summer-day we found him, Close by the garden wall, Standing so grave and dignified, Beside a sunflower tall. His tiny feet he had covered With the moist and cooling sand ; The stalk of the great, tall sunflower He grasped with his chubby hand. When he saAV us, standing near him, Gazing so wonderingly At his babyship, he greeted us With a merry shout of glee. We asked our darling what pleased him ; He replied, wi^.h a face aglow, ** Mamma, I'm going to be a man ; Fve planted myself to grow! " Anonymous. WHAT MY LITTLE BROTHER THIXKS. BY PERMISSION. My little brother is — oh, so funny! He thinks that a king is made of money ; He thinks little cherubs, overhead, Hold up the stars to light us to bed. 32 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. He thinks that near those cherubs, but under, Are other cherubs, who cause the thunder ; They roll great tables and chairs around, And growl and roar with an awful sound. He thinks some quick little cherub scratches, To make the lightning, a million matches ; Another carries a watering-pot, To wet the earth when it gets too hot. He thinks — my brother is, oh, so knowing! — A feather-bed cherub does all the snowing ; He thinks the feathers come sailing down. And make the snow that whitens the town. He thinks that a painted mask can eat him ; Or pull his hair ; or chase and beat him. Yes, really thinks a mask is alive! But my little brother is only five. He thinks little fairies make the clamor In grandpa's watch, with a tiny hammer. He thinks some fairies can live in a book ; Or dance in kettles to frighten the cook. He thinks the grasshoppers bring molasses; That a fairy over the bright moon passes ; He thinks my Jack-in-the-box is alive. Like witches who go to the sky for a drive. He thinks our "sis" is her dolly's mother, — My dear, absurd little baby brother ! Yes, thinks he is " uncle,"" and feels quite gmnd To lead his niece about by the hand ! But, the best of all, he is really certain He once saw Santa Clans through the curtain; And he thinks Old Santy'll come by and by. On Christmas eve, — and so do I. Mary Mapes Dodge, in St. Nicholas. FRI3IARr SCHOOL SPEAKER, 33 DEEDS OF KINDNESS. Suppose the little cowslip Should hang its little cup. And say, '* I'm such a tiny flower, I'd better not grow up," How many a weary traveller Would miss its fragrant smell! How many a little child would grieve To lose It from the dell! Suppose the glistening dewdrops Upon the grass should say, ** What can a little dewdi'op do? rd better roll away." The blade on which it rested. Before the day was done. Without a drop to moisten it. Would wither in the sun. Suppose the little breezes. Upon a summer^s day, Should think themselves too small tx> cool The traveller on his way ; Who would not miss the smallest And softest ones that blow. And think they made a great mistake, If they were talking so? How many deeds of kindness A little child may do. Although it has so little strength. And little wisdom, too! It needs a loving spirit, Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do For others by its love. Songs foe Children. 34 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. Buttercups and Daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers! Coming ere the spring-time! To tell of sunny hom's. While the trees are leafless. While the fields are bare. Buttercups and Daisies Spring up everywhere. Little hardy flowers, Like to children poor. Playing in their sturdy health. By their mother's door ; Purple with the north wind. Yet alert and bold, Fearing not, and caring not. Though they be a-cold. What to them is weather ! What are stormy showers? Buttercups and Daisies, Are these human flowers! He who gave them hardship. And a life of care. Gave them likewise hardy strength, And patient hearts to bear ! Welcome yellow Buttercups! Welcome Daisies white! Ye are in rqy spirit Visioned, a delight! Coming ere the spring-time. Of sunny -hours to tell, Speaking to our hearts of Him Who doeth all things well. Mary Howitt. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 35 THE CHILD'S WORLD. " Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world, With the wonderful Avater round you curled. And the wonderful grass upon your breast, — World, you are beautifully drest. "The wonderful air is over me. And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree, It walks on the water, and whirls the mills, And talks to itself on the tops of the hills. *' You friendly Earth! how far do you go. With the wheat-fields that nod, and the rivers that flow. With cities, and gardens, and cliffs, and isles, And people upon you for thousands of miles? '* Ah, you are so great, and I am so small, I tremble to think of you. World, at all ; And yet, when I ^aid my prayers to-day, A whisper, inside me, seemed to say, ' You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot : You can love and think, and the Earth cannot ! ' " LiLLiPUT Lectures. THE ORIOLES. Four little mouths agape for ever; Four little throats which are never full : Four little nestlings, who dissever One big worm, by a mighty pull. Up on a limb — the lazy fellow ! — Perches the father, bold and gay. Proud of his coat of black and yellow, Always singing throughout the day. Close at their side, the watchful mother, Quietly sober in dress and song. Chooses her place, and asks no other, Flying and gleaming all day long. 36 PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Four little months in time grow smaller, Four little throats in time are filled ; Four little nestlings quite appall her, Spreading their wings for the sun to gild. Lazy no longer sits the father, — '■ His is the care of the singing-school ; He must teach them to fly, and gather Splendid worms by the nearest pool. Singing away on the shaken branches, Under the light of the hapjDy sun ; Dropping through blossoms like avalanches, ■ Father Oriole's work is done. Four little beaks their mouths embolden, Four little throats are round and strong; Four little nestlings, fledged and golden, Graduate in the world of song. Anonymous. THE CROW. Who loves the crow? Do the farmers ? Oh no, They call him a vagabond born ; Of no use to any, And not worth a penny, A black-coated stealer of corn ! They raise an old hat on a broom or a cane, And think they shall frighten him out of the grain. But "croak! croak! croak!" There he sits on the oak, And he laughs to himself, *' Who's afraid? " *'Caw! caw! caw! caw!" And he don't care a straw For the silly old scarecrow they made. It will take something more than a hat and a cane To frighten tlie crow from the farmer's grain. Anonymous. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 37 THE BLUEBIRD. BY PERMISSION. I KNOW the song that the bhiebird is singing, Out in the apple-tree where he is swinging. Brave httle fellow ! the skies may be dreary, — Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery. Hark! how the music leaps out from his throat! Hark ! was there ever so merry a note ? Listen a while, and you'll hear what he's saying. Up in the apple-tree swinging and swaying. " Dear little blossoms down under the snow, You must be weary of winter, I know; Hark while I sing you a message of cheer ! Summer is coming, and spring-time is here ! *' Little white snowdrop! I pray you arise; Bright yellow crocus! come, open your eyes; Sweet little violets, hid from the cold, Put on your mantles of purple and gold ; Daffodils! daffodils!- say, do you hear? — Summer is coming I and spring-time is here ! Emily Huntington Miller. ' THREE BUGS. Three little bugs in a basket, And hardly room for two ! And one was yellow, and one was black. And one like me, or you. The space was small, no doubt, for all ; But what should three bugs do? Three little bugs in a basket, And hardly crumbs for two ; And all were selfish in their hearts, The same as I or you ; So the strong ones said, "We will eat the bread, And that is what we'll do." 38 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Three little bugs in a basket. And the beds but two would hold ; So they all three fell to quarrelling — The white, and black, and the gokl ; And two of the bugs got under the rugs. And one was out in the cold ! So he that was left in the basket, Without a crumb to chew, Or a thread to wrap himself withal, When the wind across him blew, Pulled one of the rugs from one of the bugs. And so the quarrel grew ! And so there was war in the basket. Ah, pity 'tis, 'tis true ! But he that was frozen and starved at last, A strength from his weakness drew, And pulled the rugs from both of the bugs, And killed and ate them, too! Now, when bugs live in a basket, Though more than it well can hokl, It seems to me they had better agree — The white, and the black, and the gold — And share what comes of the beds and crumbs, And leave no bug in the cold! Alice Cart. GOLD-LOCKS AND THE SECRET. A SECRET is something one should not tell ; Little girl Gold-locks knows this well, So she shadows iier lips with one small hand. That none but myself may understand, And begs for the wonderful history Of the chippie birds inlhe cedar-tree. We call it our secret ; and Gold-lock's eyes, Though brimmed with mischief, look wondrous wise; And since already the rogue has heard The story repeated, word for word. Over and over, always new. The rest of the children shall hear it too. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 39 The chippies had built a dried-grass house Under the thickest, greenest boughs ; Not a single window was in the wall, Nor a door, nor any roof at all ; The place for the skylight was the door, And a soft, soft carpet lined the floor. They were plain and home-spun little folks ; — None of those gaudy hats and cloaks Such as the dandy orioles wear, Whether the weather be dull or fair ; Not even as much as a crimson vest. Such as covers the robin's breast. Mrs. Chippie wore mostly brown, From tiny claw-gloves to shawl and gOAvn; And Mr. Chippie was plain indeed In a dingy, well-worn suit of tweed ; But the oddest of all was their family. Nothing but brown eggs, one, two, three! Gold-locks thought it was very queer Why Mrs. Chippie should disappear Whenever she peeped- through the cedar boughs To look at the cunning dried-grass house, And count through its open sky-light door Little brown eggs, one, two, three, four! She studied within her careful brain What they would do if it should rain; • And at night, whenever she thought of it, She looked to see if their lamp vf as lit ; Always so wrapped in mystery Were the little folks in the cedar-tree ! But" now is the funniest thing of all, And Gold-locks laughs until tears fall : Four baby birds are in the nest • — Big, and homely, and not half dressed ; You would think — they open their mouths so wide — They could swallow each other if they tried. What do you think bird babies eat? Nothing so very nice or sweet. 40 PRIMAEY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Their mother brings them for cakes and pies Little green worms, and bugs and flies ; And when they are grown up, I suppose. She will dress them all in plain brown clothes. Clara Doty Bates. WHO STOLE THE BIRD^S NEST? "To- whit! to- whit! to-whee! Will you listen to me? Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made? '^ " I^ot I," said the cow, " moo-oo.^ Such a thing I'd never do. I gave you a wisp of hay,. But I didn't take your nest away. " Not I," said the cow, '* moo-ool Such a thing I^d never do." *'To-whit! to- whit! to-whee! Will you listen to meP Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made? '^ "Bob-oMink! Bob-o'-link! Now what do you think? Who stole a nest away Trom the plum-tree, to-day?" ** Not I," said the dog, *' bow-wow! I wouldn't be so mean, anyhow! I gave hail's the nest to make. But the nest I djd not take. Not I,'^ said the dog, ''bow-wow! I'm not so mean, anyhow." *'To-whit! to-whit! to-whee! Will you listen to me ? Who stole four eggs I laid. And the nice nest I made? " PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 41 **Bob-o'-link! Bob-o'-link! Now what do you think? Who stole a nest away From the plum-tree to-day?" *' Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Let me speak a word, too ! Who stole that pretty nest From little yellow-breast?" **Not I,'' said the sheep, " oh, no! I wouldn't treat a poor bird so. I gave wool the nest to line, But the nest was none of mine. Baa! baa! " said the sheep, " oh, no, I wouldn't treat a poor bird so." *'To-Avhit! to- whit! to-whee! Will you listen to me ? Who stole four eggs I laid. And the nice nest I made? " *'Bob-o'-link! Bob-oMink! Now what do you think? Who stole a nest away From the plum-tree to-day?" "Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Let me speak a word, too ! Who stole that pretty nest From little yellow-breast?" *' Caw! caw!'' cried the crow, " I should like to know What thief took away A bird's-nest to-day ? " " Cluck! cluck! " said the hen, *' Don't ask me again ; Why, I haven't a chick Would do such a trick. We all gave her a feather. And she wove them too;ethei\ 42 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. "I'd scorn to intrude On her Jind her brood. Chick ! cluck ! " said the hen, " Don't ask me again." * ' Chir-a-whir ! chir-a-whir ! All the birds make a stir! Let us find out his name, And all cry, ' For shame ! ' " ** I would not rob a bird," Said little Mary Green; *' I think I never heard Of anything so mean." '* It is very cruel, too," Said little Alice Neal ; ** I wonder if he knew How sad the bird would feel? " A little boy hung down his head. And went and hid behind the bed. For he stole that pretty nest From poor little yellow-breast ; And he felt so full of shame. He didn't like to tell his name. Ltdia Maria Child. THREE LITTLE NEST-BIRDS. We meant to be very kind ; But if ever we find Another soft, gray-green, moss-coated, feather-lined nest in a hedge. We have taken a pledge — Susan, Jemmy, and I — with remorseful tears, at this very minute. That if there are eggs or little birds in it, Robin or wren, thrush, chaffinch, or linnet, We'll leave them there To their mother's care. PRBIARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 43 There were three of iis — Kate, and Susan, and Jem — And three of them — I don't know tlieir names, for they couldn't speak. Except with a little imperative squeak Exactly like Poll, Susan's squeaking doll. But squeaking dolls will lie on the shelves For years, and never squeak of themselves. The reason we like little hirds so much better than toys Is because they are really alive, and know how to make a noise. There were three of us and three of them ; Kate — that is I — and Susan and Jem. Our mother was busy making a pie. And theirs, we think, was ujd in the sky, But for all Susan, elemmy, or I can tell. She may have been getting their dinner as well. They were left to themselves (and so were we) In a nest in the hedge by the willow-tree. And when we caught sight*^ of three red little fluff-tufted, hazel-eyed, open-mouthed, pink-throated heads, we all shouted for glee. Tlie way we really did wrong was this : We took them for mother to kiss. And she told us to put them back. While out of the weeping- willow tlieir mother was crying -Alack!" We really heard Both what mother tolcl us to do and the voice of the mother- bird. But we three — that is, Susan, and I, and Jem — Thought we knew better than either of them ; And in spite of our mother's command and the poor bird's cry, We determined to bring up her three little nestlings our- selves on the sly. We each took one, It did seem sifch excellent fun! 44 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Susan fed hers on milk and bread ; Jem got wriggling worms for his instead. I gave mine meat, For yon know, I thought, *' Poor darling pet! why shouldn't it have roast beef to eat? " But, oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! How we cried When, in spite of milk and bread and worms and roast beef, the little birds died! It's a terrible thing to have heart-ache. I tliought mine would break As I heard the mother-bird's moan, And looked at the gray-green, moss-coated, feather-lined nest she had taken such pains to make. And her three little children dead and cold as a stone. Mother said, and it's sadly true, " There are some wrong things one can never undo." And nothing that we could do or say Would bring life back to the birds that day. The bitterest tears that we could weep Wouldn't wake them out of their stiff, cold sleep. But then, We — Susan, and Jem, and I — mean never to be so selfish and wilful and cruel again. And we three have buried that other three In a soft, green, moss-covered, flower-lined grave at the foot of the willow-tree. And all the leaves which its branches shed We think are tears because they are dead. Harper's Bazar. FRIGHTENED BIRDS. **IIush! hush! "said the little brown thrush, To her mate on the nest in the alder-bush ; *'Keep still! don't open your bill! There's a boy coming bird-nesting over the hill. Let go your Avings out, so That not an egg or the nest shall show. Chee ! chee ! it seems to me I'm as frio^htened as ever a bird can be. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 45 Then still, with a quivering bill, They watched the boy out of sight o'er the hill, Ah, then in the branches again, Their glad song rang over vale and glen. Oh ! oh ! if that boy could know How glad they were when they saw him go. Say, say, do you think next day He could possibly steal those eggs away ? Anonymous. WHAT THE SPARROW CHIRPS. I AM only a little sparrow, A bird of low degree ; My life is of little value. But the dear Lord cares for me. He gave me a coat of feathers, It is very plain I know, With never a speck of crimson, For it was not made for show. But it keeps me warm in winter. And it shields me from the rain; Were it bordered with gold or purple, Perhaps it would make me vain. And now that the spring-time cometh, I will build me a little nest, With many a chirp of pleasure, In the spot I like the best. I have no barn or storehouse, I neither sow nor reap ; God gives me a sparrow's portion, But never a cent to keep. If my meal is sometimes scanty. Close picking makes it sweet ; I have always enough to feed me. And "life is more than meat." I know there are many sparrows ; All over the world we're found. 46 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Bat our heavenly Father knoweth When one of us falls to the ground. Though small, we are never forgotten; Though weak, we are never afraid ; For we know that the dear Lord keepeth The life of the creatures he made. I fly through the thickest forest, I light on many a spray ; I have no chart nor compass, But I never lose the way. * And I fold my wings at twilight, Wherever I happen to be ; For the Father is always watching, And harm will not come to me. I am only a little sparrow, A bird of Ioav degree ; But I know the Father loves me : Have you less faith than me? The Child's Paper. THREE m A BED. Gay little velvet coats. One, two, three; Any home hap23ier Could there be? Topsey and Johnny, And sleepy Ned, Purring so cosily. Three in a bed. Woe to the stupid mouse, Prowling about! Old mother Pussy Is on the lookout. Little cats, big cats, All must be fed. In the sky parlor. Three in a bed. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 47 Mother 's a gypsy puss — Often she moves, Thinking much travel Her children improves. Ili^h-minded family, Very well bred ; No falling out, you see! Three in a bed. Anonymous. DISCONTENT. BY PERCUSSION. Down in a field, one day in June, The flowers all bloomed together, Save one, who tried to hide herself, And drooped that pleasant weather. A robin, wdio had soared too high, And felt a little lazy. Was resting near this buttercup. Who wished she were a daisy. For daisies grow so trig and tall ; She always had a passion For wearing frills about her neck In just the daisies' fashion. And buttercups must always be The same old tiresome color. While daisies dress in gold and white, Although their gold is duller. *'Dear robin,*" said this sad young flower, *' Perhaps you'd not mind trying To find a nice white frill for me, Some day when you are flying? " " You silly thing! " the robin said; "I think you must be crazy! I'd rather be my honest self Than any made-up daisy. 48 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. "You're nicer in your own bright gown, The little children love yon ; Be the best buttercup you can, And think no flower above you. " Though SAvallows leave me out of sight. We'd better keep our places ; Perhaps the world would all go wrong With one too many daisies. " Look bravely up into the sky. And be content with knowing That God wished for a buttercup, Just here, where you are growing." Sakah O, Jewett. CONTENTED JOHN. One honest John Tompkins, a hedger and ditcher. Although he was poor, did not want to be richer ; For all such vain wishes to him were prevented By a fortunate habit of being contented. Though cold were the weather, or dear were the food, John never was found in a murmuring mood ; For this he was constantly heard to declare. What he could not prevent he would cheerfully bear. " For why should I grumble and murmur? " he said; **If I cannot get meat, Til be thankful for bread; And tliough fretting may make my calamities deeper, It never can cause bread and cheese to be cheaper." If John was afflicted with sickness or pain, He wished himself better, but did not complain, Nor lie down to fret in despondence and sorrow, But said, that he hoped to be better to-morrow. If any one wronged him, or treated him ill, Why, John was good-natured and sociable still ; For he said that revenging the injury done Would be making two rogues where there need be but one. PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 49 And thus honest John, though his station was humble, Passed through this sad world without even a grumble ; And 'twere well if some folks, who are gi'eater and richer. Would copy John Tompkins, the hedger and ditcher. Jane Tayloe. m THE CLOSET. They've taken away the ball, Oh dear! And I'll never get it back, I fear. And now they've gone away, And left me here to stay All alone the livelong day, In here. It was my ball, any way — Not his ; For he never had a ball Like this. Such a coward you'll not see, E'en if you should live to be Old as Deuteronomy, As he is. I'm sure I meant no harm — None at all ! I just held out my hand For the ball ; And somehow it hit his head ; Then his nose it went and bled ; And as if I'd killed him dead, He did bawl. Nursey said I was a horrid Little wretch. And Aunt Jane said the police She would fetch ; And cook, who's always glad Of a chance to make me mad. Said, ''Indeed, she never had Seen setch! " 50 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. No, I never, never will Be good ! I'll go and be a babe In the wood ! I'll run away to sea, And a pirate I will be! Then they'll never call me Rough and rude. How hungry I am getting — Let me see! I wonder what they're going to have For tea ! Of course there will be jam, And that lovely potted ham. How unfortunate I am ! Dear me! Oh! it's growing very dark In here, And the shadow in that Corner Looks so queer! Won't they bring me any light? Must I stay in here all night? I shall surely die of fright. Oh dear! Mother, darling! will you never Come back? I am sorry that I hit him Such a crack. Hark! Yes, 'tis her voice I hear! Now good-by to every fear, * For she's calling me her dear Little Jack. Laura E. Richards. THE HOMELY LITTLE WEAVER. There's a little loom a-going. Out there in the mid-day sun ; A spider is the weaver, And her task is just begim. PRmAHY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 51 The thread that this weaver weaveth Is spun by a magic wheel God put in her little body, With noiseless spindle and reel. And line enough in its texture For high-born lady or queen, Is the thread that the weaver weaveth, With the sunshine in between. She never grows cross nor weary While weaving the airy lace, Nor tangles the thread as I would do W^ere I in the spider's place. She never goes forth to gossip And tattle of any one, And never from house to house to see How her neighbor's thread is spun. But just like the careful woman Who was not afraid of the snow. Whose household was clothed in scarlet, Was the weaver out there, I trow. She is weaving a fairy castle Wliose pillars are based on air, And round and about the castle She windeth a charmed stair. And to-night, when the weaver sleepeth, The hand of the fairy Dew Will frame all her doors and windows With diamonds ; and looking through Her jewelled and airy casement. At sunrise, her thought will be, *' How strange tliat so fair a mansion Was built by plain little me." O homely but patient woman, A beautiful truth is there ! The worker may be both small and plain, And the work still be great and fair. Home Journal. 52 PEIMAEX SCHOOL SPEAKEK. MAKING HAY. BY PERMISSION. Through the meadow-grass, dewy, and tall, and green, Drives, whirring and whizzing, the mowing-machine. The horses are prancing, the sharp blades shine, And the grass lies low in a level line. To and fro fly the birds, and chipper and chatter. And seem to be wondering what is the matter ; While Bobolink's wife makes a frightened ado, As she looks for her nest where the horses went through. The day grows hot, and the daisies wither ; The funny horse-tedder drives hither and thither. And scatters the grain as it goes. Like a monstrous grasshopper stubbing his toes. Then the rake comes on where the tedder has been, And rakes up and drops out its lines of green ; And the field so fair in the early morn, When the noon-time comes, is all shaven and shorn. So the wilting grass, and the fading clover, They all day long pitch over and over; And men with their forks, as the sun goes down, Pile the little round heaps, like an Esquimaux town. While the daylight flides in the golden west. Let us lie on the odorous hay and rest ; Our couch is as soft as a velvet throne, And sweet as a breeze from the sijice-isles blown. To-morrow the carts for the hay will come. And the willing old oxen will carry it home; And the children shall ride to the barn away. On the very tip-top of the load of hay. From The Children's Hour. PEIMAEY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 53 CHICKADEE. BY PERMISSION. All the earth is wrapped in snow, O'er the liills the cold winds blow, Through the valley doAvn below Whirls the blast. All the mountain brooks are still, Nor a ripple from the hill, For each tiny, murmuring rill Is frozen fast. Come with me To the tree Where the apples used to hang! Follow me To the tree Where the birds of summer sang! There's a happy fellow there. For the cold he does not care, And he always calls to me, *' Chickadee, chickadee ! " He's a merry little fellow, Neither red nor blue nor yellow, For he wears a winter overcoat of gray ; And his cheery little voice Makes my happy heart rejoice. While he calls the livelong clay — Calls to me — *' Chickadee!" From the leafless apple-tree, "Chickadee, chickadee!" Then he hops from bough to twig. Tapping on each tiny sprig. Calling happily to me, "Chickadee! " He's a merry little fellow, Neither red nor blue nor yellow; He's the cheery bird of winter, "Chickadee!" Henry Eiplet Dorr, in St. Nicholas. 54 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE LITTLE BOY'S LAMENT. Oh, why must I always be washed so clean And scrubbed and drenched for Sunday, When you know very well, for youVe always seen, That I'm dirty again on Monday ? My eyes are filled with the lathery soap, Which adown my ears are dri23ping ; And my smarting eyes I can scarcely ope, And my lips the suds are sipping. It's down my neck and up my nose, And to choke me you seem to be trying; That I'll shut my mouth you need not suppose. For how can I keep from crying? You rub as hard as ever you can, And your hands are hard, to my sorrow ; No woman shall wash me when I'm a man, And I wish I was one to-morrow. Anonymous. FROM "THE PSALM OF LIFE." BY ARRANGEMENT WITH HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers. And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal : Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; — PRniAKY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 55 Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother. Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing. With a heart for any fate ; Still achieving, still pursuing. Learn to labor and to wait. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. ABOU BEN ADHEM. Abou Ben Adhem — may his tribe increase — Awoke one niglit from a sweet dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room. Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom. An angel, writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold. And to the Presence in the room he said, ** What writest thou ? " The vision raised its head, And, with a look made all of sweet accord. Answered, '*The names of those who love the Lord." *' And is mine one? " said Abou. " Na}^ not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then. Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light. And showed the names whom love of God had bless'd ; And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. Leigh Hunt. THE WAY TO DO IT. BY PERMISSION. I'll tell you how I speak a piece : First, I make my bow ; Then I bring my words out clear And plain as I know how. 56 PEIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Next, I throw my hands up — so ! Then I lift my eyes : That's to let my hearers know Something doth surprise. Next, T gi'in and show my teeth. Nearly every one. Shake my shoulders, hold my sides : That's the sign of fun. Next, I start, and knit my brows. Hold my head erect : Something 's wrong, you see, and I Decidedly object. Then I wabble at my knees. Clutch at shadows near. Tremble well from top to toe : That's the sign of fear. Now I start, and with a leap, Seize an airy dagger. " Wretch ! " I cry. That's tragedy, Ever}^ soul to stagger. Then I let my voice grow faint, Gasp, and hold my breath ; Tumble down and plunge about : That's a villain's death. Quickly then I come to life. Perfectly restored ; With a bow my speech is done. Now you'll please applaud. Mart Mapes Dodge, in Rhymes and Jingles. LITTLE CHATTERBOX. They call me "Little Chatterbox: ' My name is little May. I have to talk so much, because I have so much to say. PROIAEY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 57 And, O, I have so many friends! So many, and, you see, I can't help loving them, because They, every one, love me. I love my papa and mamma ; I love my sisters, too ; And if you're very, very good. I guess that I'll love yoa! But I love God the best of all ; He keeps me all the night ; And when the morning comes again, He wakes me with the light. I think it is so nice to live! And yet, if I should die. The Lord would send liis angels down To take me to the sky. AXOXTMOUS. OLD IROXSIDES.=^ BY ARBAXGEMEXT WITH HOUGHTON, MIFELIX & CO. Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high. And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And bur^ the cannon's roar ; — The meteor of the ocean air. Shall sweep the clouds no more ! Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe. When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, 'No more shall feel the victor's tread. Or know the conquered knee ; — The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea ! * Written when it was proposed to break up the U. S. frigate Con- stitution, familiarly known as " Old h'onsicles.'* 58 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Oh, better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave : Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave ; Nail to the mast her holy flag, ' Set every threadbare sail. And give her to the god of storms, — The lightning and the gale ! Oliver Wendell Holmes. LADS ON THE LADDER. Lads on the ladder, up go we. Slowly but surely the ladder ascending; Not what we are, but what we shall he, Gilding the summit to which we are tending. The work is hard, the progress slow ; But we'll neither falter, nor loiter, nor stop ; Higher and higher still we go. Up we will go till we reach the top. Some there are — born at the top of the ladder — They have no struggle, no aim in life; Perhaps they are happier; perhaps they are sadder; We would not change with them — give up the strife. We look right up and firmly tread. Steady of foot and firm of hand. Cheerfully eating hard-earned bread : ' Lads on the ladder — a noble band! Some there are eying us down below, Lounging lazily in the sun, Wishing they might to the summit go. And end the work they have never begun. They would like to he, but not to do ; To shun the labor, but take the prize ; Not such the wish of the hero, who Has made up his mind in the world to rise. Come, sunshine bright! come, cloudy night! Come, winter weather, and frost, and snow ; PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 59 Come, we are ready to work and fight; Anything, any way — up we go ! The work is hard, the progress slow. But we neither loiter, nor falter, nor stop; Higher and higher, for well we know One must climb the ladder to reach the top. Anonymous. THE LIFE-BOAT. The life-boat! the life-boat! when tempests are dark, She 's the beacon of hope to the foundering bark ; Wlien, 'midst the wild roar of the hurricane's sweep, The minute-guns boom like a knell o'er the deep. The life-boat! the life-boat! the whirlwind and rain, And white-crested breakers oppose her in vain ; Her crew are resolved, and her timbers are staunch ; She's the vessel of mercy, good-speed to her launch! The life-boat! the life-boat! now fearless and free. She wins her bold course o'er the wide-rolling sea; She bounds o'er the surges Avith gallant disdain. She has stemmed them before, and she'll stem them again. The life-boat ! the life-boat ! she 's manned by the brave, In the noblest of causes commissioned to save ; What heart but has thrilled at the seaman's distress, At the life-boat's endeavors, the life-boat's success. Anonymous. NEW-ENGLAND'S DEAD. New-England's dead ! New-England's dead! On every hill they lie ; On every field of strife, made red By bloody victory. Each valley, where the battle poured Its red and awfal tide. Beheld the brave New-England sword With slaughter deeply dyed. 60 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Their bones are on the northern hill, And on the southern plain, By brook and river, lake and rill, And by the roaring main. The land is holy where they fought, And holy where they fell ; For by their blood that land was bought, The land they loved so well. Then glory to that valiant band, The honored saviors of the land ! They left the ploughshare in the mould, Their flocks and herds without a fold. The sickle in the unshorn grain, The corn, half-garnered, on the plain. And mustered in their simple dres5. For wrongs to seek a stern redress ; To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe. To perish, or overcome their foe. Oh, few and weak their numbers were — A handful of brave men ; But to their God they gave their prayer, And rushed to battle then. The God of battles heard their cry. And sent to them the victory. McLellan. THE ARITHMETIC LESSON.=^ Two times 'leven are twenty-two. Kitty, don^t I wish 'twas you, 'Stead of me, had this to do? Two times 'leven are twenty-two. Three times 'leven are thirty-three. Robin, in the apple-tree, I hear you ; do you hear me ? Three times 'leven are thirty-three. * Child studying at an open window. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 61 Four times 'leven are forty-four ; How the sunbeams speck the floor! Four times 'leven are — what a bore ! Four times 'leven are forty-four. Five times 'leven are fifty-five ; Swallows ! swallows ! skim and dive, Making all the air alive ; Five, times 'leven are fifty-five. Six times 'leven are sixty-six ; Tip, for shame, sir ! Pretty chicks, Don't you mind his saucy tricks ; Six times 'leven are sixty-six. Seven times 'leven are seventy-seven ; There, now, Kitty, you can't even Say the first — " once 'leven is 'leven; " Seven times 'leven are seventy-seven. Eight times 'leven are eighty-eight ; Some one 's pulling at tlie gate ; Hark! it's Bessie, sure as fate! Eight times 'leven are eight3-eight. Nine times leven are ninety-nine ; Coming, Bessie! Ain't it fine? That's the last one in the line ! Nine times 'leven are ninety-nine. Anonymous. THE BOY-KIXG. Ho ! I'm a king, a king ! A crown is on my head, A sword is at my side, and regal is my tread; Ho, slave ! proclaim my vvnll to all the people round. The schools are hereby closed ; henceforth must fun abound. Vacation shall not end ; all slates I order smaslied ; Tlie man who says " Aritlniietic," he must be soundly thrashed ! All grammars sliall be burnt; tlie spellers we will tear; The boy who spells correctlj^ a fool's-cap he shall wear. 62 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. No dolls shall be allowed, for dolls are what I hate, The girls must give them up, and learn to swim and skate; Confectioners must charge only a cent a pound For all the plums and candy that in the shops are found. That man who asks a dime for any pear or peaeh, I'll haA^e him hung so high that none his feet can reach ; No baker is allowed hereafter to bake bread — He must bake only pies and cakes and ginger-snaps instead. All lecturers must quit our realm without delay ; The circus-men and clowns, on pain of death, must stay ; All folk who frown on fun at once must banished be. Now, fellow, that you know my will, to its fulfilment see ! Alfred Selwyn. MARCH. I WONDER what spendthrift chose to spill Such bright gold under my window-sill! Is it fairy gold? Does it glitter still? Bless me ! it is but a daffodil ! And look at the crocuses, keeping tryst With the daffodil by the sunshine kissed ! Like beautiful bubbles of amethyst They seem, blown out of the earth's snow mist. And snowdrops, delicate fairy bells. With a pale green tint like the ocean swells ; And the hyacinths weaving their perfumed spells. The ground is a rainbow of asphodels ! Who said that March was a scold and a shrew? Who said she had nothing on earth to do But tempests and furies and rages to brew? Why, look at the wealth she has lavished on you ! O March that blusters and March that blows, What color under your footsteps glows ! Beauty you summon from winter snows, And you are the pathway that leads to the rose ! Celia Thaxter, in Wide Awake. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 63 THE FROST. The Frost looked forth one still, clear night. And whispered, '' Now I shall be out of sight; So through the valley and over the height. In silence I'll take my way ; I will not go on like that blustering train, — The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain. Who make so much bustle and noise in vain, But I'll be as busy as they ! " Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest ; He lit on the trees, and their boughs he drest In diamond beads ; and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The downward point of many a spear That he hung on its margin, far and near, Where a rock could rear its head. He went to the windows of those who slept. And over each pane, like a fairy, crept ; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, By the light of the morn, were seen Most beautiful things : there were flowers and ti*ees ; There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees ; There were cities with temples and towers ; and these All pictured in silver sheen! But one thing he did that was hardly fair — He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare, '' Now, just to set them a-thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he; " This costly pitcher I'll burst in three ; And the glass of water they've left for me ShaU ' tchick ' to tell them I'm drinking." Hannah F. Gould. 64 PKIMAKY SCHOOL SPEAKER. A SUMMER SONG. BY PERMISSION. Roly-poly honey-bee, Hnmming in tide clover. With the green leaves under you, And the blue sky over, Why are you so busy, pray ? Never still a minute. Hovering now above a flower, Now half buried in it ! Janty robin-redbreast, Singing loud and cheerly. From the pink-white apple-tree In the morning early. Tell me, is your merry song Just for your own pleasure Poured from such a tiny throat, Without stint or measure? Little yellow buttercup. By the wayside smiling. Lifting up your happy face. With such sweet beguiling, Why are 3^ou so gayly clad — Cloth of gold your raiment? Do the sunshine and the dew Look to you for payment? Roses in the garden-beds, Lilies, cool and saintly. Darling blue-eyed violets, Pansies hooded quaintly. Sweet-peas, that, like butterflies. Dance the bright skies under, Bloom ye for your own delight. Or for ours, I wonder! Mrs. Julia C. E. Dokr, in St. Nicholas. PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 65 HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWX. I'll tell you how the leaves came down. The great tree to his children said : ''You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, Yes, very sleepy, little Red ; It is quite time you went to bed." ** Ah! " begged each silly, pouting leaf, *' Let us a little longer stay; Dear Father Tree, behold our grief, 'Tis such a very pleasant day, We do not want to go away." So just for one more merry day To the great Tree the leaflets clung. Frolicked and danced and had their way, Upon the autumn breezes swung. Whispering all their sports among : " Perhaps the great Tree will forget And let us stay until the spring. If we all beg and coax and fret." But the great Tree did no such thing ; He smiled to hear their whispering. ''Come, children, all to bed," he cried; And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, He shook his liead, and far and wide. Fluttering and rustling everywhere, Down sped the leaflets through the air. I saw them ; on the ground they lay, Golden and red, a huddled swarm, Waiting till one from far away, White bed-clothes heaped upon her arm, Should come to wrap them safe and warm. The great bare Tree looked down and smiled. "Good-night, dear little leaves," he said; And from below, each sleepy child Replied, "Good-night," and murmured, " It is so nice to go to bed." Susan Coolidge. 66 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. MARJORIE'S ALMANAC. BY PERMISSION. Robins in the tree-top. Blossoms in the grass, Green things a-growing Everywhere yon pass; Sudden little breezes. Showers of silver dew, Black bough and bent twig Budding out anew ; Pine-tree and willow-tree, Fringed elm, and larch — Don't you think that May-time 's Pleasanter than March? Apples in the orchard, Mellowing one by one ; Strawberries upturning Soft cheeks to the sun, Roses faint with sweetness. Lilies fair of face, Drowsy scents and murmurs Haunting every place ; Lengths of golden sunshine, Moonlight bright as day — Don't you think that summer 's Pleasanter than May ? Roger in the corn-patch, Whistling negro songs ; Pussy by the hearth-side. Romping with the tongs ; Chestnuts in the ashes, Bursting through the rind ; Red leaf and gold leaf Rustling down the wind ; Motlier " doin' peaches " All the afternoon — Don't you think that autumn 's Pleasanter than tlune? PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 67 Little fairy snow-flakes Dancino; in the flue ; Old Mr. Santa Clans, What is keeping yon ? Twilight and tire-light; Shadows come and go; Merry chimes of sleigii-bells Tinkling through the snow; Mother knitting stockings (Pussy 's got the ball) — DonU you think that winter 's Pleasanter than all ? T. B. AiDRicH, IN St. Nicholas. FLOWERS. God might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak-tree and the cedar-tree. Without a flower at all. He might have made enough, enough For every want of ours. For luxury, medicine, and toil. And yet have made no flowers. The clouds might give abundant rain. The nightly dews might fall, And the herb that keepeth life in man Might yet have drunk them all. Then wherefore, wherefore were they made. And dyed with rainbow light. All fashioned with supremest grace, Upspringing day and night? Springing in valleys green and low, And on the mountains high ; And in the silent wilderness. Where no one passes by ? Our outward life requires them not; Then wherefore had they birth? 68 PRIMAKY SCHOOL SPEAKER. To minister delight to man ; To beautify the earth ; To comfort man, — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim ; For He who careth for the flowers Will much more care for him ! Mart Howitt. STRAWBERRIES. BY PERMISSION. - LiTiTLE Pearl Honeydew, six years old, From her bright ear parted the curls of gold, And laid her head on the strawberry-bed, To hear what the red-cheeked berries said. Their cheeks were blushing, their breath was sweet, She could almost hear their little hearts beat; And the tiniest lisping, whispering sound That ever you heard, came up from the ground. ' ** Little friends," she said, " I wish I knew How it is you thrive on sun and dew ! " And this is the story the berries told To little Pearl Honeydew, six years old. ** You wish you knew? and so do we! But we can't tell you, unless it be That the same kind Power that cares for you Takes care of poor little berries too. *' Tucked up snugly, and nestled below Our coverlid of wind-woven snow. We peep and listen, all winter long. For the first spring-day and the bluebird's song. " When the swallows fly home to the old brown shed. And the robins build on the bough overhead. Then out from the mould, from the darkness and cold. Blossom and runner and leaf unfold. "Good children then, if they come near. And hearken a good long while, may hear PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 69 A wonderful tramping of little feet, — So fast we grow in the summer heat. ** Our clocl^s are the flowers ; and they count the hours, Till we can mellow in suns and showers. With warmth of the west- wind and heat of the south, A ripe red berry for a ripe red mouth. ''Apple-blooms whiten, and peach-blooms fall, And roses are gay by the garden- wall, Ere the daisy's dial gives the sign That we can invite little Pearl to dine. " The days are longest, the month is June, Tlie year is nearing its golden noon. The weather is line, and our feast is spread Witli a green cloth and berries red. *' Just take us betwixt your finger and thumb — And quick, oh, quick! for, see! there come Tom on all-fours, and Martin the man. And Margaret, picking as fast as they can! "Oh dear! if you onl}^ knew how it shocks 'Nice berries like us to be sold by the box. And eaten by strangers, and paid for with pelf. You would surely take pity, and eat us yourself ! " And this is the stor}^ the small lips told To dear Pearl Honeydew, six years old. When she laid her head on the strawberry-bed To hear what the red-cheeked berries said. John T. Trowbridge. THE MISCHIEVOUS BRIER. Little Miss Brier came out of the ground. She put'out her thorns and scratched everything round; " I'lijust try," said she, " How bad I can be ; Al pricking and scratching there's few can beat me." 70 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Little Miss Brier was handsome and bright, Her leaves were dark green, and her flowers were pure white ; But all who came nigh her Were so worried by her, They'd go out of their way to keep clear of the Brier. Little Miss Brier was looking one day At her neiglibor the Violet over the way : " I wonder," said she, " That no one pets me ; While all seem so glad little Violet to see." A sober old Linnet who sat on a tree. Heard the speech of the Brier, and thus ansAvered he : *' It's not that she's fair. For you may compare, In beauty, with even Miss Violet there. *'But Violet's always so pleasant and kind, So gentle in manner, so humble in mind ; E'en tlie worms at her feet She would never ill treat. And to bird, bee, and butterfly always is sweet." The gardener's wife just then the pathway came down, And the mischievous Brier caught hold of her gown. *' Oh dear, what a tear, My gown 's spoiled, I declare ; That troublesome Brier, it's no business there! Here, John, grub it up, throw it into the Are." And that was the end of the troublesome Brier. Mrs. Anna Bache. READY FOR DUTY. Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold, Through the brown mould, Althoug;li the March breezes blew keen on her face, Altliough the white snow lay on many a place. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 71 Daffy-down-dilly had heard underground The sweet rushing sound Of the streams as they burst off their white winter-chains, Of the whistung spring winds and the pattering rains. *' Now, then," thought Daffy, deep down in her heart, *' It's time I should start." So she pushed her soft leaves through the hard-frozen ground Quite up to the surface, and then she looked round. There was snow all about her, gray clouds overhead, The trees all looked dead : Then how do you think Daffs^-down-dilly felt, When the sun would not shine, and the ice would not melt? *' Cold weather! " thought Daff, still working away; '* The earth 's hard to-day. There's but half an inch of my leaves to be seen. And two-thirds of that is more yellow than green. *' I can't do much yet; but I'll do what I can. " It's well I began, For unless I can manage to lift up my head. The people will think Spring herself 's dead." So, little by little, she brought her leaves out, All clustered about. And then her bright flowers began to unfold. Till Daffy stood robed in her spring green-and-gold. O Daffy-down-dilly, so brave and so true ! I wish all Avere like you. So ready for duty in all sorts of weather. And holding forth courage and beauty together. Miss Warner. 72 PEIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. BY PERMISSION. We were crowded in the cabin ; Not a soul would dare to sleep : It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered l3y the blast. And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, '* Cut away the mast! " So we shuddered there in silence. For the stoutest held his breath. While the hungry sea was roaring. And the breakers talked of death. As thus we sat in darkness. Each one busy with his prayers, "We are lost! " the captain shouted, As he staggered down the stairs. But his little daughter whispered, As she took his icy hand, *' Isn't God upon the water. Just the same as on the land? " Then he kissed the little maiden. And he spoke in better cheer. And we anchored safe in harbor When the morn was shining clear! James T. Fields. THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN, & CO. The snow had begun in the gloaming. And busily, all the night. Had been heaping field and highway AVith a silence deep and white. PEIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 73 Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl ; And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch-deep with pearl. From sheds new-roofed with Carrara Came Chanticleer's muffled crow ; The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down ; And still fluttered down the snow\ I stood and watched by the window The noiseless work of the sky, And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, Like brown leaves whirling by. I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn, Where a little headstone stood ; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, " Father, who makes it snow? " And I told of the good All-father, Who cares for us here below. Again I looked at the snow-fall. And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow. When that mound was heaped so high. I remembered the gradual patience That fell from that cloud like snow, Flake by flake, healing and hiding The scar of our deep-plunged woe. And again to the child I whispered, " The snow that husheth all, — Darling, the merciful Father Alone can make it fall." Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; And she, kissing back, could not know That inij kiss was given to her sister. Folded close under deepening snow. James Russell Lowell. 74 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. LITTLE MARY'S WISH. ** I HAYE seen the first robin of spring, motlier dear. And have heard the brown darling sing ; You said, 'Hear it and wish, and 'twill surely come true;' So I've wished such a beautiful thing ! " I thought I would like to ask something for you, But I couldn't think what there could be That you'd want while you had all these beautiful things ; Besides, you have papa and me. *' So I wished for a ladder, so long that 'twould stand One end by our own cottage-door. And the other go up past the moon and the stars, And lean against heaven's white floor. ** Then I'd get you to put on my pretty white dress, With my sash and my darling new shoes ; Then I'd find some white roses to take up to God — The most beautiful ones I could choose. *' And you and dear papa would sit on the ground And kiss me, and tell me ' Good-by ! ' Then I'd go up the ladder far out of your sight, Till I came to the door in the sky. ** I wonder if God keeps the door fastened tight? If but one little crack I could see, I would whisper, * Please, God, let this little girl in. She's as tired as she can be ! " * She came all alone from the earth to the sky. For she's always been wanting to see The gardens of heaveii-, with their robins and flowers ; Please, God, is there room there for me ? ' ** And then, when the angels had opened the door, God Avould say, 'Bring the little child here,' But he'd speak it so softly I'd not be afraid: And he'd smile just like you, mother dear. PRIMAKY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 75 "He would put his kind arms round your dear little girl, And I'd ask him to send down for you, And papa, and cousin, and all that I love — Oh dear! don't you wish 'twould come true?" The next spring time, when the robins came home, They sang over grasses and flowers That grew where the foot of the ladder stood. Whose top reached the heavenly bowers. And the parents had dressed the pale, still child. For her flight to the summer land. In a fair white robe, with one snow-white rose Folded tight in her pulseless hand. And now at the foot of the ladder they sit, Looking upward with quiet tears, Till the beckoning hand and the fluttering robe Of the cliild at the top appears. Mrs. L. M. Blinn, in Our Youxg Folks. THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. 'TwAS the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung at the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there ; The children were nestled all snug in their beds. While visions of sugar- plums danced in their heads ; And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap. Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, — When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash. Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave a lustre of midday to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, 76 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name : '* Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall ! Now, dasli away, dash away, dash away, all! " As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When tliey meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, — and St. Nicholas, too. And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot. And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot ; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back. And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. Plis eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, — a right jolly old elf; And I laughed, when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I hacl nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work. And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose. And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle. And away they all flew like the down of a thistle ; But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, *' Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night! " Clement C. Moore. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 77 HANG UP THE BABY'S STOCKING. Hang up the baby's stocking, Be sure you don't forget — The clear little dimpled darling! She ne'er saw a Christmas yet ; But I've told her all about it. And she opened her big blue eyes. And I'm sure that she understands it. She looks so funny and wise. Dear ! what a tiny stocking ! It doesn't take much to hold Such little pink toes as baby's Away from the frost and cold. But then, for the baby's Christmas It never will do at all : . Why, Santa wouldn't be looking For anything half so small ! I know what we'll do for the baby — I've thought of the very best plan — I'll borrow a stocking of grandma. The longest that ever I can ; And you'll hang it by mine, dear mothers Right here in the corner, so, And write a letter to Santa, . And flisten it on to the toe. Write: "This is the baby's stocking That hangs in the corner here ; You never have seen her, Santa, For she only came this 3^ear : But she 's just the blessedest baby ; And now, before you go, Just cram her stocking with goodies. From the top clean doAvn to the toe." Aj^onymous. 78 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. ONE LITTLE EMPTY STOCKING. One little empty stocking, Left of the pretty pair. We hung by the chimney-corner. With tenderest love and care. The year has brought us sorrow, Bitterest tears and pain, And we have no smiles of greeting, When Christmas comes again. One little empty stocking To mind us of all our joys, The shouting of happy voices At finding the pretty toys. But now we have lost our darling, The dear little feet are still. And there's only an empty stocking. That Santa Claus cannot fill. Some little empty stocking Tliere's time enough now^ to fill With many a loving token, Pressed down with a right good will. For selfish it is, and sinful. Thus over my loss to repine. When I know there are other darlings Not as safe nor as rich as mine. And ever what God has taken Some recompense surely brings; For out of the gloomy shadows We're lifted on angels' wings, Wlien we open our hearts to the sunshine Of infinite love and grace. And feel that a Christlike presence Has taken the dead child's place. Josephine Pollard. PRBIARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 79 KIXG CHRISTMAS. He is come! he is come! a monarch he, By his broad, bright reign over land and sea ; A king Avith more than a kingly sway, For he wields a sceptre that hearts ol3ey, He comes to us with a song and a shout, And a tinkle of laughter round about, And a rhyme of bells That sways and swells Cheerily, under the faint, brief blue. That, crowding at nightfall, the stars look through. He comes in joy to our household ring. Meet him, and greet him, and crown him king. To lowly cottag^e, and lordly hall. He comes, with a blessing for each and all ; He holds his court by the blazing hearth, For he loves the joyance of household mirth. The boys all hail him with shout and glee, For a rare boy-loving old king is he. They deck their homes. And watch as he comes DoAATi the dark of the winter night ; They weave him a garland of holly bright. When he comes with gifts to their joyous ring. And meet him, and greet him, and crown him king. He mends the links in Love's broken chain. And drifting hearts are drawn near again. He brings us back, amid smiles and tears, Our dear ones, over the gulf of years : He sings to us echoes, sweet and low, Of the song that was sung so long ago, To the shepherds of old. As they watched the fold. Of " peace on earth," and to men " good will," And softly the same sweet story still King Christmas tells in our social ring; Then meet him, and greet him, and crown him king. A. Graham. 80 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE ISriGHTIlSTGALE AND GLOW-AYORM. A NIGHTINGALE that all day long Had cheered the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, ISTor yet when eventide was ended. Began to feel, as well he might. The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the gronnd, A something shining in the dark. And knew the glow-worm by his spark. So, stooping down from hawthorn top. He thought to put him in his crop. The Avorm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent: ' " Did you admire my lamp," quoth he, ''As much as I your minstrelsy. You would abhor to do me wrong As much as I to spoil your song ; For 'twas the self-same Power divine Taught you to sing and me to shine. That you with music, I with light. Might beautify and cheer the night." The songster heard this short oration, And, warbling out his aj^probation. Released him, as my story tells. And found a supper somewhere else. COWPEII. GRANDPAPA. Grandpapa's hair is very white, And grandpapa Avalks but slow ; He likes to sit still in his easy-chair. While the children come and go. "Hush! play quietly," says mamma; *' Let nobody trouble dear grandpapa." PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 81 Grandpapa's hand is thin and weak ; It has worked hard all his days, — A strong right hand, and an honest hand. That has won all good men's praise. *' Kiss it tenderly," says mamma: ** Let every one honor grandpapa." Grandpapa's eyes are growing dim ; They have looked on sorrow and death ; But the love-light never went out of them, Nor the courage and the fiiith. ** You children, all of you," says mamma, ''Have need to look up to d^ar grandpapa." Grandpapa's years are wearing few ; But he leaves a blessing behind, — A good life lived, and a good fight fought. True heart and equal mind. ** Remember, my children," says mamma, *' You bear the name of your grandpapa." ]Mrs. Muloch-Ceaik. ANISTA AND NED. Anna and Ned, little sister and brother. Stood at the window one bitter cold day; Just before Christmas it was, and their mother Came for good-by befoi*e going away. ** Mamma," said Ned, as she went to the door, " Will you get me some oxen with hair and big horns! Those are just wood ones you gave me before; Get me some truly ones, please, like Will Thorn's." *' And what," said mamma, "■ shall I order for Anna? " " O, she wants a doll," said Ned; " one that can talk, And shut up her eyes in that comical manner — No matter, perhaps, if the creature can walk. *' Anna 's a girl, you see, I know her capers; She doesn't care about oxen, like me. Please, mamma, get me some bright-colored tapers, And big, shiny tin things to hang on the tree." 82 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. '' No, mamma, please " — and the sweet voice was tearful, '' Don't buy me anything; get some warm clothes; Papa says the suffering out West is fearful : Why, some little children last week nearly froze." Mamma kissed her darlings, and said, "I'll remember; And, children, be good now, while I am away," And then she went out in the cold, bleak December, While Anna and Ned hurried off to their play. " Aren't you a goose? " said Ned, ** now let me ask you, To give up your doll for the babies out West? Papa will send things to the folks in Nebraska, And you miglit have goodies and fun like the rest." Little Anna said nothing, though warm tears were dropping All over the blocks that she held in her hand ; She built a tall liouse, roof and all, witliout stopping, Then toppled it over at Ned's loud command. Anna did want a doll, and she loved her small brother, — And thought him a very wise boy, to be sure, — But still was not sorry for asking her mother To spend all the money on clothes for the poor. She thought of the Christ- child who, gentle and lowly, Gave his all and Himself for the poor and the bad ; And though the bright teardrops kept gathering slowly. She was not unhappy, but peaceful and glad. At last Christmas came, and the warm sun was shining. And sleigh-bells were ringing, when Anna awoke To find on the pillow beside her reclining — Would you think it? — a dolly that really spoke! She ran straight to mamma Avith the wonderful baby, And rubbed her blue eyes to be fully awake. For the dear little girl was still thinking, " It may be I'm dreaming, or somebody 's made a mistake." But no ; mamma said this was Anna's own treasure. And the children out West should be clothed and fed too ; And added, " It gives your mamma real pleasure To make glad and happy a daughter like you." Anonymous. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 83 THANKSGIVING DAY. Oyer the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go ; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Throuo^h the white and drifting snow. Over the river and through the wood — Oh, hoAV the wind doth blow! It stings the toes. And bites the nose. As over the ground we go. Over the river and through the wood, To have a first-rate play. Hear the bells ring Ting-a-ling-ling ! Hurrah for Thanksgiving-Day ! Over the river and through the wood, Trot fast, my Dapple-gray I Spring over the ground Like a hunting hound. For this is Thanksgiving-Day. Over the river and through the wood. And straight through the barn-yard gate. We seem to go Extremely slow, — It is so hard to wait ! Over the river and through the wood — Now grandmother's cap I spy ! Hurrah for the fun ! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie ! Ltdia Maria Child. 84 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. A DREAIM ABOUT THE OLD NURSERY RHYMES. Oh, that day last December, Wei], well I remember How tired 1 felt after school ; On the sofji reposing. With just my eyes closing, While puss went to sleep on the stool. Sure ! could I be sleeping, When something came creeping. So lightly, like pussy's soft paw ; And then little Bo-peep, Come to look for her sheep, Quite close to the pillow I saw ! And I heard, " Ding-dong bell ; See poor Puss in the well ; " And then, *' Diccory, diccory dock." Quick I looked round to see What it ever could be, When a little mouse ran up the clock. Next T saw INIotlier Hubbard Go up to her cupboard. And grumble to find it so bare ; And tliat poor Simple Simon Walk up to a pieman. And beg for a taste of his ware. And I heard mamma tell What each piggy befell, And I saw baby dance up and down ; And the fair Queen of Hearts, Busy making her tarts. With, oh dear! such a o-littering: crown. And I saw poor ]Miss Muffet Jump up from her tuffet, PRBIARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 85 And the spider that frightened her, too ; And just then rustled by, On her way to the sk}^ The old dame on a broomstick that flew. I saw little Miss Mary, So very contrary, AVho walks where the purple-bells grow; And the man Avith a drum, Just as big as your thumb. And the old cock beginning to crow. Oh, that day last December, Whene'er I remember. Other days dull and stupid all seem. -^ Oh, that wonderful day! But why will they all say, *' It was nothing at all but a dream "? M. H. F. D. THE MINUET. BY PEKXISSIOX. Grandma told me all about it. Told me so I couldn't doubt if. How she danced — my gi'andma danced, Long ago. How she held her pretty head, How her dainty skirt she spread, How she turned her little toes — Smiling little human rose ! Lono; ao;o. Grandma's hair was bright and sunny ; Dimpled cheeks, too, — ah, how funny ! Really quite a pretty girl. Long ago. Bless her! why, she wears a cap, Grandma does, and takes a nap Every single day ; and yet Grandma danced the minuet Lono; aoTQ. 86 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Now she sits there, rocking, rocking, Alvva^^s knitting grandpa's stocking — (Every girl was taught to knit Long ago) ; Yet her figure is so neat. And lier way so staid and sweet, I can ahnost see her now, Bending to her partner's bow, Long ago. Grandma says our modern jumping. Hopping, rushing, whirling, bumping. Would have shocked the gentle folk. Long ago. No — they moved with stately grace, Everything in proper place. Gliding slowly forward, then Slowly courtesying back again, Long ago. Modern ways are quite alarming. Grandma says ; but boys were charming — Girls and boys, t mean, of course — Long ago. Bravel}^ modest, grandly shy — What if all of us should try Just to feel like those who met In the graceful minuet Long ago. With the minuet in fashion. Who could fly into a passion? All would wear the calm they w^ore. Long ago. In time to come, if I perchance. Should tell my ^grandchild of our dance, I should really like to say, "We did it, dear, in some such way, Long ago." Mes. Mary Mapes Dodge, in St. Nicholas. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 87 A FABLE. BY AERAXGEMEXT WITH HOUGHTON, 3IIFFLIX & CO. The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel ; And the former called the latter " Little Prig." Bim replied, " You are doubtless yevy big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you. You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track ; Talents differ ; all is well and wisely put ; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut."' R. W. Emersox. DAISY'S MISTAKE. BY PERMISSION. *' To-MORKOTv: I'm going to Sunday-school," She said, with a skip and prance ; ** Now wait a moment, baby dear. Till I show you how 1*11 dance." With pretty joy on her sober face. And her dainty skirt outspread, Our dimpled Daisy began to show Tlie measure she meant to tread. "Ho, baby! " she cried, with courtesying dips, " I'll' go tJiis way, and this, — I'll be a good girl at the Sunday-school, And never a step I'll miss." 88 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Of the danciDg-school and its rare delights She had learned from playmates gay. What wonder that now, while her parents planned, Her little head went astray ! The happy Sunday had come and gone, When Daisy, now wiser grown. Was asked how she danced at Sunday-school, And whether she danced alone. *' O' course not," answered the little maid, — "'Course, childrens never do. Do you fink /would dance at Sunday-school? I'm really ashamed of you! " Mrs. E. McKean Ely, in St. Nicholas. TWO OF THEM. BY PERMISSION. A BROOK and wee Elsie Were playing together, One frolicsome day Of the sunshiny weather. At "tag " and ''bo-peep; " Naughty creatures were they, For the brook and wee Elsie Had both run away. One time when they j^aused In a lovely cool place, Elsie saw in the water Pier round, dimpled face ; And, *' How funny! " she said. With a wondering look, — **Now, hbw could my face Get into the brook ? " A half minnte later, A ^ypsying bee Left Elsie in tears. Sorry object to see. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 89 ** Here's another queer problem," The little brook cries, " ISTow, how did I ever Get into her e3^es ? " Mrs. Carrie W. T. Bronson, in St. Nicholas. PUSSY'S CLASS. BY PERMISSION. ** Now, children," said Puss, as she shook her head, "It is time your morning lesson was said." So her kittens drew near with footsteps slow, And sat down before her all in a row. "Attention, class!" said the cat-mamma, "And tell me quick where your noses are! " At this all the kittens sniffed in the air. As though it were filled with a perfume rare. " Now, what do you say when you want a drink? " The kittens waited a moment to think ; And then the answer came clear and loud — You ought to have heard how those kittens meow'd ! "Very well. 'Tis the same, with a sharper tone. When you want a fish or a bite of a bone. Now what do you say Avhen children are good? " And the kittens purred as soft as they could. *' And what do you do when children are bad? When they tease and pull? " Each kitty looked sad. "Pooh! " said their mother. " That isn't enough; You must use your claws when children are rough. "And where are your claws? No, no, my dear" (As she took up a paw). " See! they're hidden here." Then all the kittens crowded about To see their sharp little claws brought out. The}' felt quite sure the}^ should never need To use such weapons — oh, no, indeed ! But their wise mamma gave a pussy's '' psliaiv ' " And boxed their ears with her softest paw. 90 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. " 1^0 w sptiss! as hard as you can," she said; But every kitten hung down its head. '* Sptiss! I say," cried the mother-cat; But they said, " O mamma, we can't do that! " " Then go and play," said the fond mamma; " What sweet little idiots kittens are! Ah, well! I was once the same, I suppose." And she looked very wise, and rubbed her nose. Mary Mapes Dodge, in Rhymes and Jingles. ALL THE CHILDREN^. I SUPPOSE if all the children Who have lived tlirough ages long Were collected and inspected, They would make a wondrous throng. Oh, the babble of the Babel! Oh, the flutter of the fuss ! To begin with Cain and Abel, And to finish up with us ! Who would wash their smiling faces? Who their saucy ears would box ? Who would dress them, and caress them? Who would darn their little socks ? Where are arms enough to hold them ? Hands to pat each shining head ? Who would praise them? who would scold them? Who would pack them off to bed? Only think of the confusion * Such a motley crowd would make ; And the clattei' of their chatter. And the things that they would break! Oh, the babble of the Babel! Oh, the flutter of the fuss ! To begin with Cain and Abel, And to finish up with us ! Anonymous. PEniARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 91 XA]MIXG THE BABY. You have birds in a cage, and yonVe beautiful flowers, But you haven't at your house what we have at ours; 'Tis the prettiest thing that you ever did see, Just as dear and as precious as precious can be. 'Tis my own baby sister, just seven days old, And too little for any but grown folks to hold. Oh, I know you would love her ; she's fresh as a rose. And she has such a queer, tiny bit of a nose. And the dearest and loveliest pink little toes. Which, I tell mother, seem only made to be kissed ; And she keeps her wee hand doubled up in a fist. She is quite without hair, but she's beautiful eyes — And she always looks pretty except Avhen she cries. And what name we shall give her there's no one can tell, For my father says Sarah, and mother likes Belle ; And my gi*eat-uncle John — he's an old-fiishioned man — Wants her named for his wife that is dead — Mary Ann. But the name / have chosen the darling to call, Is a name that is prettier far than them all. And to give it to Baby my heart is quite set — It is Violet Martha Rose Stella Marzette. Mariax Douglas. PRETTY LITTLE! A PRETTY little maiden had a pretty little dream, A pretty little wedding was her pretty little theme ; A pretty little bachelor to win her flivor tried, And asked her how she'd like to be his pretty little bride. With some pretty little blushes and a pretty little sigh. And some pretty little glances from her pretty little eye, With a pretty little face behind her pretty little fon. She smiled on the proposals of this pretty little man. Some pretty little "loves," and some pretty little "dears," Some pretty little smiles, and some pretty little tears. Some pretty little presents, and a j^retty little kiss. Were the pretty little preludes to some"^ i^retty little bliss. 92 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. This pretty little lady, and her pretty little spark, Met the pretty little parson and his pretty little clerk; A pretty little wedding-ring- united them for life — A pretty little husband and a pretty little wife. Anonymous. WHAT THEY SAY. BY PERMISSION. What does the drum say? '*Riib-a-dnb-dub! Rnb-a-dnb, rnb-a-dub ! Pound away, bub ! Make as much racket as ever you can, Rub-a-dub! rub-a-dub! Go it, my man! " What does the trumpet say? " Toot-a-toot-too ! Toot-a-toot, toot-a-toot ! Hurrah for you ! Blow in the end, sir, and hold me out, so. Toot-a-toot! toot-a-toot! Why don't you blow? " What does the whip say? " Snapperty-snap! Call that a crack, sir — flipperty-tiap! Up with the hurdle, and down with the lash. Snapperty! snapperty! Done in a flash." What does the gun say? " Put in my stick, I'm a real pop-gun. Fire me quick! See that you fire in nobody's eye. Steady! my manikin. Now let it fly! " What does the sword say? " Swishy-an-swish ! Flash in the sunlight, and give me a wish. Wish I was real, sir — cut 'em in bits ! Wouldn't I scare all the world into fits ! " What do they all say, trumpet and gun, Whip, sword, and drum-stick? " Hurrah for fun! Babies no longer, but stout little men. Racket forever! and racket again! " Mary Mapes Dodge, in Rhymes and Jingles. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 93 THE FAMILY CAT. A KITTEN came in one rainy day, With a look in its eyes thnt seemed to say, " If you've no objection I'd like to stay." It was cold and wet with the driving rain. And hungry, too, that was very plain : To send it off on its travels again I hadn't the heart; although, indeed. Cook said that she couldn't see the need Of another cat in the house to feed. " It's afther iightin' the bastes all be. An' scratchin' ache ither's eyes," said she; " For two of a kind don't niver agree." But just to try the family cat, I put my kitten down on the mat Where Madame Pussy already sat. A saucer of milk and some bits of meat I set in the space between their feet. And waited to see them begin to eat. Tlie kitten snuffed with a hungry look. And stared at the cat, at me, and the cook, But never a single morsel took. "The crachure 's afraid," said cook to me. " Look at the ould one, jist! " said she. " Didn't I tell yez how it ud be? " Slowly the family cat arose. She arched her back, and she spread her toes — The thoughts that were in her breast, who knows ? *' Oh, Pussy-cat-mew! " said I, " for shame! I wouldn't have thought it of one of your name." '' Faith," said Bridget, "I wud, that'^same! It's jist the nachure of bastes like thim To worret ache ither, limb from limb. And ye'll remimber I tould you, mim! " The family cat turned round at this. And 1 truly tell you nothing amiss. She answered the cook with a scornful — ''sptiss!" 94 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. It was just as plain as if she had said, '* You've taken that notion in your head Because you are vulgar and underbred ; Please to observe " — with a dignified purr — " That I know what is due to myself and her, And shall do my duty, whatever occur." And thereupon, with a friendly grace. She Avashed the poor little kitten's face, And licked each whisker into its place! " If iver I see the batin's o' that! " Cried cook, as down with a flop she sat ; But I was proud of the family cat. Anonymous. TOPSY-TURVY WORLD. If the butterfly courted the bee. And the owl the porcupine ; If churches were built in the sea. And three times one were nine ; If the pony rode his master ; If the buttercups ate the cows ; If the cat had the dire disaster To be worried, sir, by the mouse ; If mamma, sir, sold the baby To a gypsy for half-a-crown ; If a gentleman, sir, were a lady, — The world would be u]3side down! If any or all of these v\^onders Should ever come about, I should not consider them blunders. For I should be inside-out ! LiLLiPUT Levee. THE PARSON'S SOCIABLE. They carried the pie to the parson's hou^e. And scattered the floor with crumbs, And marked the leaves of his choicest books With the prints of their greasy thumbs. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 95 They piled his dishes high and thick With a lot of nnhealthful cake. While they gobbled the buttered toast and rolls Which the parson's wife did make. They hung around Clytie's. classic neck Their apple-parings, for sport, And every one laughed when a clumsy lout Spilt his tea in the piano-forte. Next day the parson went down on his knees With his wife — but not to pray : Oh, no ; 'twas to scrape the grease and dirt From the carpet and stairs away * Anonymous. JOHISr BOTTLEJOHX. BY PER3IISSIOX. Little John Bottlejohn lived on the hill. And a blithe little man was he ; And he won the heart of a little mermaid Who lived in the deep blue sea. And every evening she used to sit And sing on the rocks by the sea : *'0h, little John Bottlejohn! pretty John Bottlejohn! Won't you come out to me? " Little John Bottlejohn heard her song, And he opened his little door ; And he hopped and he skipped, and he skipped and he hopped. Until he came down to the shore. And there on a rock sat the little mermaid, And still she was singing so free : "Oh, little John Bottlejohn! pretty John Bottlejohn! Won't you come out to me? " Little John Bottlejohn made a bow. And the mermaid, she made one, too ; And she said : "• Oh, I never saw anything half So perfectly sweet as you ! 96 . PPaMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. In my beautiful home, 'neath the ocean foam, How happy we both should be ! Oh, little John Bottlejohn! pretty »Iohn Bottlejohn! Won't you come down with me? " Little John Bottlejohn said : " Oh, yes, I'll willingly go with you ; And I never will quail at the sight of your tail, For perhaps I may grow one, too! " So he took her hand, and he left the land. And he plunged in the foaming main ; And little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Never was seen again. Laura E. Richards, in St. Nicholas. TEN LITTLE INJUNS. Ten little Injuns standing in a line ; One toddled home, and then there were nine. * Nine little Injuns swinging on a gate ; One tumbled off, and then there were eight. Eight little Injuns never heard of heaven ; One kicked the bucket, and then there were seven. Seven little Injuns cutting up tricks; One broke his neck, and then there were six. Six little Injuns kicking, all alive; One went to bed, and then there were five. Five little Injuns on a cellar-door ; One tumbled in, and then there were four. Four little Injuns out on a spree; One got drunk, and then there were three. Tln-ee little Injuns out in a canoe; One tumbled overboard, and then there were two. Two little Injuns foolin' with a gun; One shot t'other, and then there was one. One little Injun livin' all alone; He got married, and then there were none. Anonymous. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKERo 97 A LITTLE BOY'S POCKET. Do 3^ou know what's in my pottet? Such a lot of treasures in it! Listen now while I bedin it ; Such a lot of sins it hold, And all there is, you sail be told ; Everysin dat's in my pottet. And when, and where, and how I dot it. First of all, here's in my pottet A beauty shell — I picked it up; And here's the handle of a tup That somebodyhas broke at tea ; The shell 's a hole in it, you see ; Nobody knows that I have dot it, I keep it safe here in my pottet. And here's my ball, too, in my pottet, And here's my pennies, one, two, free, That Aunty Mary gave to me ; To-morroAV-da}^ I'll buy a spade, When I'm out Valking Avith the maid, But I can't put dat here in ni}^ pottet. But I can use it when I've dot it. Here's some more sins in my pottet! Here's my lead, and here's my string. And once I had an iron ring, But through a hole it lost one day ; And this is what I always say — A hole 's the worst sin in a pottet, Have it mended when you've dot it. Anonymous. THE NEW SLATE. BY PERMISSION. See my new slate ! I dot it new Cos I b'oke. the other. Put my 'ittle foot right froo, Runnin' after mother. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. I tan make you lots o' sings, Fass as you tan tell 'em, T's and B's and big O rings, Only I can't spell 'em. I tan make a funny pig, Wid a truly tail-y, 'Ittle eyes, and snout so big Fokin' in a pail-y. I tan make a elephant, Wid his trunk a-hangin' ; An' a boy — who says I tan't? — Wid his dun a-bangin' An' the smoke a-tummin' out, (Wid my t'umb I do it, Rubbin' all the white about,) Sparks a-fiying froo it. I can make a bu-ful house, Wid a tree behind it, And a little mousy-mouse Runnin' round to find it. I tan put my hand out flat On the slate, and draw it; (Ticklin' is the worst of that!) Did you ever saw it? I tan draw me runnin' 'bout — Mamma's 'ittle posset (Slate so dust3^ rubbin' out, Dess oo'd better wass it). Now then, s'all I make a tree Wid ajoirdie in it? All my pictures 5'ou s'all see If you'll wait a minute. No, I dess I'll make a man Juss like Uncle Roily. See it tummin', fass it tan! Bet my slate is jolly ! Mary Mapes Dodge, in Rhymes and Jingles. PRniARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 99 BLACK SPIDERS. " Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet Eating curds and whey: Tliere came a black spider And sat down beside her, And frightened ]\Iiss Muffet away." To all mortal blisses, From comlits to kisses. There's sm;e to be something by way of alloy; Each new expectation Brings fresh aggi'avation, And a doubtful amalgam 's the best of our joy. You may sit on your tuftet ; Yes, — cushion and stuff it; And provide what you please, if you don't fancy whey; But before you can eat it. Therein be — I repeat it — Some sort of black spider to come in the way. From Mother Goose for Y^oung Folks. THE OWL AXD THE PUSSY-CAT. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat ; They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The owl looked up to the moon above, And sang to a small guitar, *'0 lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love! What a beautiful Pussy you are. You are. What a beautiful Pussy you are ! " Pussy said to the owl, " You elegant fowl, How wonderful sweet you sing! O let us be married, — too long we have tarried, - But what shall we do for a ring:? " 100 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. They sailed away for a year and a day To the land where the Bong-tree grows. And there in a wood, a piggy- wig stood With a ring in the end of his nose, His nose, With a ring in the end of his nose. " Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will." So they took it away, and were married next day By the turkey who lives on the hill. They dined uj^on mince and slices of quince. Which they ate with a suncible spoon. And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand. They danced by the light of the moon. The moon. They danced by the light of the moon. Edward Lear. TRIALS OF A TWIN. In form and feature, face and limb, I grew so like my brother, That folks got taking me for him. And each for one another. It puzzled all oar kith and kin. It reached a fearful pitch ; For one of us was born a twin. And not a soul knew which. One day, to make the matter worse. Before our names were fixed. As we were being washed by nurse, We got completely mixed ; And thus, you see, by fate's decree, Or rather nurse's whim. My brother John got christened me, And I got christened him. This fatal likeness ever dogged My footsteps when at scliool, PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 101 And I was always getting flogged. When John turned out a fool. I put this question, fruitlessly, To every one I knew, *' What would you do, if you were me. To prove that you were you? " Our close resemblance turned the tide Of our domestic life. For somehow, my intended bride Became my brothers wife. In fact, year after year the same Absurd mistake went on, And iclien I died, the neighbors came. And buried brother John. Anonymous. THE DEAD DOLL. BY PERMISSION. You needn't be trying to comfort me — I tell you my dolly is dead ! There's no use saying she isn't, with a crack like that in her head. It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt much to have my tooth out, that day; And then, when the man 'most pulled my head off, you hadn't a word to say. And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you say you can mend it with glue ! As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just suppose it was you. You might make her look all mended — but what do I care for looks? Why, glue's for chairs and tables, and toys, and the back of books ! My dolly ! my own little daughter ! oh, but it's the a^yfulest crack ! It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her poor head went whack — 102 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the little shelf. Now, nursey, what makes you remind me? I know that I did it myself ! I think you must be crazy — you'll get her another head ! What good would forty heads do her? I tell you my dolly is dead I And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant new spring hat! And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie on that horrid cat! When my mamma gave me that ribbon — I was playing out in the yard — She said to me, most expressly, "Here's a ribbon for Hilde- garde." And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde saw me do it; But I said to myself, "Oh, never mind, I don't believe she knew it!" But I know that she knew it now, and I just believe, I do. That her poor little heart was broken, and so her head broke too. Oh, my baby! my. little baby! I wish my head had been hit! For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked a bit. But since my darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of course ; We will take my little wagon, nurse, and you shall be the horse ; And I'll walk behind and cry; and we'll put her in this, you see — This dear little box — and we'll bury her there under the maple-tree. And papa will make me a tombstone, like the one he made for my bird ; And he'll put what I tell him on it — yes, every single word ! I shall say: " Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, who is dead ; She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her head." Margaret Vandegrift, in St. Nicholas. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 103 A BABY'S SOLILOQUY. I AM here. And if this is what they call the loorld, I don't think much of it. It's a very fianneliy world, and smells of paregoric awfully. It's a dreadful light world, too, and makes me blink, I tell you. And I don't know what to do with my hands; I think I'lLdig my fists in my eyes. No, I won't. I'll scratch at the corner of my blanket and chew it np, and then I'll holler ; whatever happens, I'll holler. And the more paregoric they give me, the louder I'll yell. That old nurse puts the spoon in the corner of my mouth, side- wise like, and keeps tasting my milk herself all the while. She spilt snulf in it last night, and, when I hollered, she trotted me. That comes of being a two-days'-old baby. Never mind: when I'm a man I'll pay her back good. There's a pin sticking in me now, and if say a word about it, I'll be trotted or fed ; and I would rather have catnip-tea. I'll tell you who I am. I found out to-day. I heard folks say, "Hush! don't wake up Emeline's baby;" and I sup- pose that pretty, white-faced woman over on the pillow is Emeline. No, I Avas mistaken ; for a chap was in here just now and wanted to see Bob's baby; and looked at me and said I was a funny little toad, and looked just like Bob. He smelt of cigars. I wonder who else I iDclong to! Yes, there's an- other one — that's "Gamma." "It was Gamma's baby, so it was." I declare, I do not know who I belong to; but Til holler, and maybe I'll find out. There comes snufiH" with catnip-tea. I'm going to sleep. I wonder Avhy my hands won't go where I want them to ! _^__ Anonymous. BY TELEPHONE TO FAIRY-LAND.^ BY PERMISSION. , Connect me with Fairy-land, please, pretty Vine, With the Fairy Queen's palace of pearl, And ask if her Highness will hear through your line A discoura^-ed and sad little o:irl. * As this poem was originally printed, the little ofirl was represented as whisperinof her message into a bell-shaped flower, still connected with the parent-vine. 104 PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Queen, I'm so grieved 'cause my dolly won't play. And so tired of pretending it all! 1 must walk for her, talk for her, he her all day, . While she sits still and stares at the wall. Her house is so pretty, with six little rooms, And it has truly windows and doors. And stairs to go up, and nice carjoets and brooms — For I do the sweeping, of course. There's a tea-set, and furniture fit for a queen, And a trunk full of dresses besides ; And a dear little carriage as ever was seen. And I am her horse when she rides. But never a smile nor a thank have I had. Nor a nod of her hard, shiny head ; And is it a wonder I'm weary and sad? For I can't love a dolly so dead. I thought I would ask you if, in your bright train. You hadn't one fairy to spare, A naughty one, even, — I shouldn't complain, But would love it with tenderest care, — Or a poor little one who had lost its briglit wings, — I should cherish it not a bit less, — And, besides, they'd get crushed with the sofas and things. And be so inconvenient to dress. O Queen of the Fairies, so happy I'll be If you'll only just send one to try ; I'll be back again soon after dinner to see If you've left one here for me. Good-by ! Helen K. Spofford, in St. NicnoLAs. AUNT TABITHA. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. Whatever I do and whatever I say, Aunt Tabitha tells me that isn't the way; When she was a girl (forty summers ago), Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so. PRniARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 105 Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice — But I like my own way, and I find it so nice! And besides, I forget half the things I am told ; But they all will come back to me when I am old. If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt, He may chance to look in as I chance to look out. She would never endure an impertinent stare ; It is horrid, she says, and I mustn't sit there. A walk in the moonlight has pleasure, I own. But it isn't quite safe to be walking alone ; So I take a lad's arm, — just for safety, you know, — But Aunt Tabitha tells me they didn't do so. How wicked we are, and how good they were then ! They kept at arms'-length those detestable men; Wliat an era of viitue she lived in! — but stay — Were the men such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day ? If the men icere so wicked — I'll ask my papa How he dared to propose to my darling mamma? Was he like the rest of them? goodness! who knows? And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose ? I am thinking if aunt knew so little of sin, What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been! And her grand-aunt — it scares me — how shockingly sad That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad ! A martyr will save us, and nothing else can ; Let us perish to rescue some ^vi-etched young man! Though when to the altar a victim I go. Aunt Tabitha '11 tell me — she never did so. Oliver AVexdell Holmes. THE CROW'S CHILDREN. A huxts:max, bearing his gun afield, Went whistling merrily ; When he heard the blackest of black crows Call out from a withered tree : — 106 PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. " You are going to kill the thievish birds, And I would if I were you ; But you mustn^t touch my family, Whatever else you do! " " I'm only going to kill the birds That are eating up my crop ; And if your young ones do such things, Be sure they'll have to stop." " Oh," said the crow, "my children Are the best ones ever born ; There isn't one among them all Would steal a grain of corn." " But how shall I know which ones they are? Do they resemble you? " "Oh," said the crow, "they're the prettiest birds, : And the whitest that ever tiew! " So off went the sportsman, whistling. And off, too, went his gun ; And its startling echoes never ceased Again till the day was done. And the old crow sat untroubled, CaAving away in her nook; For she said, " He'll never kill my birds. Since I told him how they look. " Now there's the hawk, my neighbor, She'll see what she will see, soon. And that saucy, wliistling blackbird May have to change his tune! " When, lo ! she saw the hunter, Taking his homeward track, With a string of crows as long as his gun, - Hanging down his back, "Alack, alack! " said the mother, "What in the world have you done? You promised to spare my pretty birds, And you've killed them every one." PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 107 "Your birds! " said the puzzled hunter; " Why, I found them in my corn; And besides, they are black and ugly As any that ever were born! " *' Get out of my sight, you stupid! " Said the angriest of crows ; *' How good and fair the children are, There's none but a parent knows ! " " Ah! I see, I see," said the hunter, " But not as you do, quite; It takes a mother to be so blind She can't tell black from white! " Phcebe Cart. VICTUALS AND DRINK. *' There once was a woman, And Avhat do you think ? She lived upon nothing But victuals and drink. Victuals and drink Were the chief of her diet, And yet this poor Avoman Scarce ever was quiet." And were you so foolish As really to think That all she could want AVas her victuals and drink ? And that while she was furnished With that sort of diet, Her feeling and fancy Would starve, and be quiet? Mother Goose knew far better ; But thought it sufficient To give a mere hint That the fare was deficient ; For I do not believe She could ever have meant To imply there was reason For being content. 108 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Yet the mass of mankind Is uncommonly slow To acknowledge the fact It behooves them to know ; Or to learn that a woman Is not like a mouse, Needing nothing but cheese, And the walls of a house. But just take a man — Shut him up for a day ; Get his hat and his cane, — Put them snugly away ; Give him stockings to mend. And three sumptuous meals ; And then ask him, at night. If you dare, how he feels ! Do you think he will quietly Stick to the stocking. While you read the news, And *' don't care about talking ''? From Mother Goose for Grown Folks. THE FIRST PARTY. BY PERMISSION. Miss Annabel McCarty Was invited to a party, ** Your company from four to ten,'"* the invitation said ; And the maiden was delighted To think she was invited To sit up till the hour when the big folks went to bed. The crazy little midget Ran and told the news to Bridget, Who clapped her hands, and danced a jig, to AnnabePs de- light. And said, with accents hearty, ** 'Twill be the swatest party. If ye're there yerself, me darlint! I wish it was to-night!" PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 109 The great display of frilling Was positively killing ; And, oh, the little booties! and the lovely sash so wide! And the gloves so very cunning ! She was altogether '* stunning," And the whole McCarty fiimily regarded her with pride. They gave minute directions, With copious interjections Of " sit up straight! " and " don't do this or that — 'tAVOuld be absurd ! " But what with their caressing, And the agony of dressing, Miss Annabel McCarty did not hear a single word. There was music, there was dancing. And the sight was most entrancing, As if fairy land and floral band were holding jubilee; There was laughing, there was pouting; There was singing, there was sliouting ; And the old and young together made a carnival of glee. Miss Annabel INIcCarty Was the youngest at the jjarty, And every one remarked she was beautifully dressed ; Like a doll she sat demurely On the sofa, thinking surely It would never do for her to run and frolic with the rest. The noise kept growing louder ; The naughty bo3's would crowd her ; "I think you're very rude indeed! '' the little lady said; And then, without a warning. Her home instructions scorning, She screamed : " I want my supper, and I want to go to bed." Xow, big folks who are older, Xeed not laugh at her nor scold her. For doubtless, if the truth were known, we've often felt inclined To leave the ball or party, As did Annabel McCarty, But we hadn't half the courage, and we couldn't speak our mind. JosEPHi2s^E Pollard, in St. Nicholas. 110 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. ENTERTAINING HER BIG SISTER'S BEAU. *' My sister '11 be down in a minute, and sa^^s you 're to wait, if you please. And says I might stay till she came, if I'd promise her never to tease, Nor speak till you spoke to me first. But that's nonsense, for how would you know What she told me to say, if 1 didn't? Don't you really and truly think so? "And then you'd feel strange here alone ! And you wouldn't know just where to sit; For that chair isn't strong on its legs, and ' we ' never use it a bit. We keep it to match with the sofa. Biit Jack says it would be like you To flop yourself right down upon it, and knock out the very last screw. "S'pose you try! I won't tell. You're afraid to! Oh! you're afraid they would think it was mean ! Well, then, there's the album — that's pretty, if you're sure that your fingers are clean. For sister says sometimes I daub it; but she only says that when she's cross. There's her picture. You know it? It's like her; but she ain't as good-looking, of course! *'Tliis is me. It's the best of 'em all. Now, tell me, you'd never have thought That once I was little as that? It's the onl}^ one that could be bought — For that was the message to pa from the photograph man where I sat. That he wouldn't print off any more till he first got his money for that. "What? Maybe you're tired of waiting. Why, often she's longer than this. There's all her back hair to do up, and all of her front curls to friz. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Ill But it's nice to be sitting here talking like grown people, -just you and me. Do you think you'll be coming here often? Oh, do! But don't come like Tom Lee. *' Tom Lee — her last beau. Why, my goodness, he used to be here day and night, Till the folks thought he'd he her husband ; and Jack says that gave him a fright. You won't run away, then, as he did? For you're not a rich man, they say ; Pa sa^'s you are poor as a church-mouse. Xow, are you? And how poor are they? *'Ain't you glad that you met me? Well, I am ; for I know now your hair isn't red ; But Avhat there's left of it's mousy, and not Avhat that naughty Jack said. But there! I must go; sister's coming. But I wish I could Avait, just to see If she ran up to you and kissed you in the way that she used to kiss Lee." F. Bret Harte, ix the Ixdepexdent. CHICKEXS. " T didx't ! " says Chip. ** Yon did ! " says Peep. *'How do you know? — you were fast asleep," *' I Avas under mammy's wing. Stretching my legs like anything. Wlien all of a sudden I turned around, For close beside me I heard a sound — A little tip, and a little tap." *' Fiddle-de-dee ! You'd had a nap. And, when you were onh' half awake, Heard an icicle somewhere break." " What's an icicle? " " I don't know ; Rooster tells about ice and snow, Something that isn't as good as meal, That drops down on you, and makes you squeal." 112 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. *'Well! swallow Rooster's tales, I beg! And think you didn't come out of an egg ! I tell you I heard the old shell break, And the first small noise you ever could make ; And mammy croodled, and puffed her breast, And pushed us farther out of the nest, Just to make room enough for you, And there's your shell — I say it's true ! " Chip looked over his shoulder then. And there it lay by the old gray hen — Half an egg-shell, chipped and brown, And he was a ball of yellow down. Clean, and chipper, and smart, and spry. With the pertest bill, and the blackest eye. ** H'm! " said he, with a little perk. "That is a wonderful piece of work! Peep, you silly 1 don't you see That shell isn't nearly as big as me? Whatever you say, miss, I declare I never, never could get in there! " *' You did! " says Peep, " I didn't! " says Cliip. With that he gave lier a horrid nip. And Peep began to dance and peck. And Chip stuck out his wings and neck; They pranced, and struck, and capered about. Their toes turned in, and their wings S23read oat, As angry as two small chicks could be. Till Mother Dorking turned to see. She cackled, and clucked, and called in vain : At it they went, with might and main. Till at last the old hen used her beak. And Peep and Chip, with many a squeak. Staggered off, on either side. With a very funny skip and stride. " What dreadful nonsense! " said Mother Hen, When she heard the story told again ; '' You 're bad as. the two-legs that don't have wings, Nor feathers, nor combs — the wretched things ! That is the way they fight -and talk For what isn't worth a mullein-stalk. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 113 What does it matter, I'd like to know, Where you came from, or where you go? Keep your temper, and earn your food ; I can't scratch worms for a fighting brood. I won't have quarrels, I will have peace ; I hatched out chickens, so don't be geese ! " Chip scratched his ear with his yellow claw, The meekest chicken that ever you saw ; And Peep in her feathers curled one leg. And said to herself — " But he was an eggl " Anonymous. OVER IN THE MEADOW.=^ Over in the meadow. In the sand, in the sun. Lived an old mother-toad And her little toadie one. " Wink ! " said the mother ; *' I wink," said the one : So she winked, and she blinked In the sand, in the sun. Over in the meadow. Where the stream runs blue, Lived an old mother-fi^h And her little fishes two : ** Swim ! " said the mother ; " We swim," said the two : So they swam and they leaped Where the stream runs blue. Over in the meadow. In a hole in a tree, "" Lived a mother-bluebird And her little birdies three. " Sing ! ' ' said the mother ; " We sing," said the three : So they sang and were glad In the hole in the tree. * This piece may be rendered very attractively by twelve little chil- dren. 114 PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Over in the meadow, In the reeds on the shore. Lived a mother-muskrat And her little ratties four. *' Dive! " said the mother; " We dive," said the four: So they dived and they burrowed In the reeds on the shore. Over the meadow, In a snug beehive. Lived a mother-honeybee And her little honeys five. " Buzz! " said the mother; *'We buzz," said the five ; So they buzzed and they hummed In the snug beehive. Over in the meadow, In a nest built of sticks. Lived a black mother-crow And her little crows six. " Caw! " said the mother; " We caw," said the six : So they cawed and they called In their nest built of sticks. Over in the meadow, Where the grass is so even, Lived a gaymother-cricket And her little crickets seven. "Chirp!" said the mother; "We chirp," said the seven: So they chirped cheery notes In the grass soft and even. Over in the meadow. By the^ld mossy gate, Lived a brown mother-lizard And her little lizards eight. ♦'Bask! " said the mother; ** We bask," said the eight: So they basked in the sun On the old mossy gate. PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 115 Over in the meadow, Where the clear pools shine, Lived a green mother-frog And her little froggies nine. " Croak! " said the mother; " We croak," said the nine : So they croaked and they plashed Where the clear pools shine. Over in the meadow, In a sly little den, Lived a gray mother-spider And her little spiders ten. *' Spin ! " said the mother ; *' We spin," said the ten: So they spun lace webs In their sly little den. Over in the meadow. In the soft summer even, Lived a mother-firefly And her little flies eleven. ** Shine ! " said the mother ; " We shine," said the eleven : So they shone like stars In the soft summer even. Over in the meadow, Where the men dig and delve, Lived a wise mother-ant And her little anties twelve. " Toil! " said the mother; " We toil," said the twelve: So they toiled, and were wise Where the men dig and delve. Olive A. Wadsworth. 116 PKIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE JOHNNY-CAKE. Little Sarah she stood by her grandmother's bed, " And what shall I get for your breakfast? " she said. " You shall get me a johnny-cake : quickly go make it," In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it." So Sarah she went to the closet to see If yet any meal in the barrel might be. The barrel had long been as empty as wind ; Not a speck of the bright yellow meal could she find. But grandmother's johnny-cake — still she must make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. She ran to the shop ; but the shopkeeper said, " I have none — you must go to the miller, fair maid; For he has a mill, and he'll put the corn in it. And grind you some nice yellow meal in a minute ; But run, or the johnny-cake, how will you make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it.^ " Then Sarah she ran every step of the way, ^ But the miller said, " No, I have no meal to-day; Run, quick, to the cornfield, just over the hill, And''if any be there you may fetch it to the mill. But, run, or the johnny-cake, how will you make it. In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it? " She ran to the cornfield — the corn had not grown. Though the sun in the blue sky all pleasantl}^ shone. " Pretty sun," cried the maiden, " please make the corn grow." " Pretty maid," the sun said, "I cannot do so." " Then grandmother's johnny-cake, how shall I make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it? " Then Sarah looked round, and she saw what was wanted; The corn could not grow, for no corn had been planted. She asked of the farmer to sow her some grain. But the farmer he laughed till his sides ached again. " Ho! ho! for the johnny-cake, — how can you make it. In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it? " PEBIAEY SCHOOL SPEAKER. 117 The farmer he laughed, and he laughed ont aloud, — "And how can I plant till the earth has been ploughed? Run, run to the ploughman, and bring him with speed ; Hell plough up the ground, and I'll lill it with seed." Away, then, ran Sarah, still hoping to make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. The ploughman he ploughed, and the gi-ain it was sown, And the sun shed his rays till the corn was all grown. It was ground at the mill, and again in her bed These words to poor Sarah the grandmother said : *' You shall get me a johnny-cake — quickly go make it, In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it." Akontmous. A Second Success. EXHIBITION DAYS. By IdlRS. ]yr-A.RY B. C. SI^-AJDE, AUTHOR OF "CHILDEEN'S HOUB." CONTAINING Dialogues, Charades, Plays, Recitations, Tableaux, Pantomimes, Black- board Exercises, &c. FOE GRAMMAR AND HIGH SCHOOLS, AND PARLOR ENTERTAINMENTS. The success which has attended the sale of " The Children's Hour," is a guarantee of Mrs. Slade's fitness for the prepara- tion of this book. Parents and teachers will be greatly aided by it in preparing the children for the '-''Exhibition Days." 1 vol. 16ino. Boards. Price 50 cts, SENT BY MAIL, POSTAGE PAID, ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. PUBLISHED BY HENR-Y A.. YOUIVG & CO. 13 Bromfield Street, BOSTON, MASS, WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT IT. By MRS. MARY B. C. SLADE, EDITOR OF " GOOD TIMES." Oontaining Dialogues, Speeches, Motion Songs, Tableaux, Charades, Blackboard Exercises, Juvenile Comedies, and other Entertainments. FOR PRIMARY SCHOOLS, KINDERGARTENS, & JUVENILE HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. FOR ALL SEASOJSrS AND OCCASIONS. 1 vol. 16irLO. Boards. IPrioe 50 Cents. ]V. JBi. Journal of f^ducation says: No one In this country is better qualified to prepare such a work than Mrs. Slade, and a careful examination shows that she has embodied in this collection only such exercises and selections as tend to elevate the taste and impress the young- with correct moral ideas. The dialogues are especially excellent. Buffalo Scliool Journal says: Among the many books of this kind, we have not seen a better one. It has the merit of originality and sprightliness. Syracuse Scliool Snlletin says: We are very much obliged to Mrs. Slade for getting out this little work. We receive letters every day asking us to send the best of just such books as this. We have replied that none of them were very good, but — or — was as good- as any. Hereafter we shall invariably reply : " Mrs. Slade's is the best." So teachers, who write to us for informa- tion, may as well send fifty cents, and get the book by return mail. IVortli Cliristian Advocate says: The pieces are various in character; are generally just what a good teacher would wish to introduce into her classes of smaller pupils. Brightness, purity, and a cheery tone are their characteristics. Sent by mail on receipt of price. PUBLISHED BY HENRY A. YOUNG & CO., 13 Bromfieid St., Boston, Mass. WHAT PRIMARY TEACHERS NEED. National Kindergarten Songs and Plays. By MES. LOUISE POLLOCK, Principal of Kindergarten Formal Institute, "Washington, D. C. ^^The New England Journal of Education" says: This little manual contains charming songs for the opening and closing of school sessions, for marching, for gymnastic and ball games, for illustrating nature, for use in illustrating trades and industries, conversational and moral songs, and arm, hand, and finger plays and songs, suited to young children in the kin- dergarten and primary schools. Mrs. Pollock is widely and well known as an enthusiastic and thoroughly-educated teacher of the principles of Froebel ; and in preparing this book of sweet songs, and choice prose recitations, she has made a valuable contribution to the aids of teachers of young children. These songs are to be taught by rote, and will help to develop the ear for music, as well as interest them in their exercises. One Vol. l^mo. Bds. 50 cts. SENT BY MAIL. POSTAGE PAID, OX RECEIPT OF PRICE. HENRY A. YOUNG & CO. 13 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass- The Booh that Sunday School Superintendents have been looking for. By MRS. MARY B. C. SLADE. CONTAINING EXERCISES FOR Christmas and New Year, Palm Sunday and Easter, Children's Day, and Memorial Days. ALSO, DIALOGTIES, SPEECHES, AND RECITATIONS, FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, Singly or in Classes, &c., &e. Mrs. Slade's long experience in this work eminently fits her for the preparation of a book of this character. It is, without exception, the best book of this kind ever published, and will be found invaluable to superintendents in the preparation of Sunday School Concerts. 1 vol. 16ino. Soards. Price 50 cts. SEN-r BV MAIL, POSTAGE PAID, ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. PUBLISHED BY HEIVRY A. YOXJIVG & CO. 13 BromfielcL Street, BOSTON, MASS, "" ■" THE BRIGHTEST AND BEST. We have now ready the best Speaker for Primary Classes yet issued, entitled O X Xj IVI O :E=L 3ES ' s PRIMARY SCHOOL SPEAKER. Edited iDy FROin. J. H. G^ILMOJRE:, UNIVERSITY OF ROCHESTER. We annex a partial list of contents, viz. ; I'm such a Little Tot. The Life-Boat. Willie's Breeches. Kew England's Dead. A Child's Troubles. The Arithmetic Lesson. Going to Bed. The Boy-King. Little Whimpy. The Mischievous Brier. The Little Angel. Ready for Duty. Stop, Stop, Pretty Water. The Captain's Daughter. A Housekeeper's Troubles. The First Snow-Fail. Wishing. Little Clary's Wish. Johnny the Stout. The Night Before Christmas. Frogs at School. . Hang up the Baby's Stocking. Old Sol in a Jingle. One Little Empty Stocking. ]Mr. Nobody. King Christmas. Polly. The Nightingale and Glow- Worm. What the Birds Say. A Fable. The Queen in her Carriage is Pass- Daisy's Mistake. ing by. Two of Them. Our Darling. Pussy's Class. Baby is King. All the Children. Willie Winkie. Kaming the Baby. Selling the Baby. Planting Himself to Grow. What They Say. The Family Cat. What My Little Brother Thinks. Topsy-Turvy World. Deeds of Kindness. The Parson's Sociable. Buttercups and Daisies. John Bottlejohn. Gold-Locks and the Secret. Ten Little Injuns. Who Stole the Bird's Nest? The Kew Slate. Three Little IS^est-Birds. Black Spiders. Frightened Birds. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat. What the Sparrow Chirps. Trials of a Twin. Three in a Bed. The Dead Doll. Discontent. A Baby's Soliloquy. Contented John. A Telephone to Fairy-Land. In the Closet. Aunt Tabitha. The Homely Little Weaver. The Crow's Children, Making Hay. Victuals and Drink. Chickadee. The First Party. The Little Boy's Lament. Entertaining her Big Sister's Beau. The Way to Do it. Chickens. Little Chatterbox. Over in the Meadow. Old Ironsides. The Johnny-Cake. Lads on the Ladder. This collection, which is adapted to the youngest scholars, has been compiled with great care by Prof. Gilmore, whose well-known taste is a sufficient guarantee for the work. Beautifully printed and handsomely bound with an illuminated cover. 1 Vol. 16m6. Price 50 cents. Sent by mail on receipt of price. PUBLISHED BY KEm^lT J^. -YOXJIsTG- Sz CO., 13 Bromfield St., Boston. Mass. HEimY A'. YoTJE"G & Co., 13 BROMFIELD STREET, BOSTON. PUSl