The Nursery, Number 164 by Various
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Various >> The Nursery, Number 164
"Come, my baby, all alone!"
Were such mingled doubt and daring ever shown?
Now he drops his hold, and then
Closer clings to it again;
Now he steps out with a shiver,
As one tries a rapid river,
And shrinks back, and wonders when,
Taller grown,
Baby shall go all alone.
"Here comes baby, all alone!"
Was a more victorious bravery ever known?
Right across the trackless space
The small feet have won their race;
And he tosses back thereafter
Such a peal of ringing laughter!
It laughs out from every face,
Proud to own
"Baby has gone all alone!'
Back goes baby all alone.
Oh what inches, all at once, has baby grown!
Back and forth, with merry cries,
Like a little bird he flies;
First to father, then to mother,
Then to sister, then to brother,
Greeting each with laughing eyes.
Bravely done!
Shout for baby, every one!
GEORGE S. BURLEIGH.
A WOFUL TALE.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
MAKING FRIENDS.
Jane has on a clean apron. In her hand she has a piece of cake. She has
just taken one bite when she meets a dog.
"Good dog," says Jane, "come let me pat you." He looks up, and whines,
as much as to say, "I am glad to see you, Jane."
CHAPTER II.
RATHER TOO INTIMATE.
[Illustration]
"You like me, don't you?" says Jane. "You are a sweet little pet. I
wonder what your name is. I shall name you Skip. Come up here, Skip, and
let me smooth your silken hair."
So Skip springs up, and puts both of his front paws on little Jane's
clean apron. Jane is startled. Does he want to kiss her, or does he want
the cake? Ah, it is the cake that the sly rogue wants!
CHAPTER III.
THE END.
Jane is seated on the ground. She is in tears. Her friend Skip has left
her. Her cake has gone too. Did Skip snatch it away from her?
Yes, he did, without giving her a chance to take a second bite. And he
pushed her down besides. And he ran away and left her. Poor little girl!
Ungrateful little dog!
JANE OLIVER.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE BROKEN KITE.
It was a splendid great kite, almost as tall as George himself. It was a
birthday-gift from his grandfather.
George had never owned a kite before; and there never was a happier boy
than he when he went out to fly it for the first time.
But he came back looking quite sad.
"Why, what is the matter my boy?" said his grandfather.
George held up his kite. There was a large hole in it. In trying to
raise his kite, the little boy, being perhaps rather clumsy, had got it
entangled in a tree. Its beauty was spoiled, and George had brought it
home without having had the pleasure of seeing it up in the sky.
"Well, well," said his kind old grandfather, "we will have it mended and
try it again. Better luck next time!"
Carlo, the dog, looked up, as much as to say, "If there is anything I
can do for you, George, call on me."
But George's bright little sister Susan, without saying a word, ran into
the house and brought a pot of paste and some paper. "I'll mend it for
you, George," said she, "in three minutes."
And sure enough, she mended it so neatly that it was as good as new the
next morning, and George took it out again with a face as merry as ever.
He got it up in fine style this time, and had a grand time flying it.
It went up higher and pulled harder than any kite on the play-ground.
Susan, who often went out with George to have a share of the fun, was
hardly strong enough to hold it.
[Illustration]
One day when Susan was trying to wind up the string, the stick slipped
out of her hands, and away went the kite. George got it back after a
hard chase, but it was torn to shreds. Susan now looked sad in her turn.
But George only laughed, and said, "Never mind, Susie. Bring out the old
paste-pot again."
IDA FAY.
SUMMER GAMES.
Words by GEORGE COOPER.
Music by T. CRAMPTON.
[Illustration: Music]
1. "Pretty birds, pretty birds, what do you play,
Flying about in the leafy spray!"
"Little maid, little man, can't you guess?
Every one comes in a tidy dress;
Everyone cheerfully keeps the rule;
We merry birds are playing school."
2. "Butterflies winging from rose to rose,
What are you playing? there, no one knows."
"Little maid, little man, oh! 'tis fun,
Roaming and sporting till set of sun:
Roses and lilies so white and neat,
'Mong these we play at hide and seek."
3. "Gay breezes tossing the leaves about,
What are you playing at when you're out?"
"Little maid, little man, come and see:
Here we go racing from tree to tree;
Oh, it is jolly! we never flag;
This is our merriest game of tag."
4. "Grasshoppers out in the meadow so sweet,
What do you play with your nimble feet?"
"Little maid, little man, one, two, three;
Hipperty, hopperty, can't catch me!
Oh, such a merry, delightful game!
Hop-scotch you young folks call its name."
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