Little Blue Shoes Mustn't go Very far alone, you know Else she'll fall down, Or, lose her way; Fancy—what Would mamma say? Better put her little hand Under sister's wise command. When she's a little older grown Blue Shoes may go quite alone.

STREET SHOW

Puff, puff, puff. How the trumpets blow All you little boys and girls come and see the show. One—two—three, the Cat runs up the tree; But the little Bird he flies away— "She hasn't got me!"

TO THE SUN DOOR

They saw it rise in the morning, They saw it set at night, And they longed to go and see it, Ah! if they only might. The little soft white clouds heard them, And stepped from out of the blue; And each laid a little child softly Upon its bosom of dew. And they carried them higher and higher, And they nothing knew any more Until they were standing waiting In front of the round gold door. And they knocked, and called, and entreated, Whoever should be within; But all to no purpose, for no one Would hearken to let them in.

THE DAISIES

You very fine Miss Molly, What will the daisies say, If you carry home so many Of their little friends to-day? Perhaps you take a sister, Perhaps you take a brother, Or two little daisies who Were fond of one another.

THE DANCING FAMILY

Pray let me introduce you to This little dancing family; For morning, afternoon, and night They danced away so happily. They twirled round about, They turned their toes out; The people wondered what the noise Could all be about. They danced from early morning, Till very late at night; Both in-doors and out-of-doors, With very great delight. And every sort of dance they knew, From every country far away; And so it was no wonder that They should keep dancing all the day. So dancing—dancing—dancing, In sunshine or in rain; And when they all left off, Why then—they all began again.

GOING TO SEE GRANDMAMMA

Little Molly and Damon Are walking so far, For they're going to see Their kind Grandmamma. And they very well know, When they get there she'll take From out of her cupboard Some very nice cake. And into her garden They know they may run, And pick some red currants, And have lots of fun. So Damon to doggie Says, "How do you do?" And asks his mamma If he may not go too.

WISHES

Oh, if you were a little boy, And I was a little girl— Why you would have some whiskers grow And then my hair would curl. Ah! if I could have whiskers grow, I'd let you have my curls; But what's the use of wishing it— Boys never can be girls.

FIRST ARRIVALS

It is a Party, do you know, And there they sit, all in a row, Waiting till the others come, To begin to have some fun. Hark! the bell rings sharp and clear, Other little friends appear; And no longer all alone They begin to feel at home. To them a little hard is Fate, Yet better early than too late; Fancy getting there forlorn, With the tea and cake all gone. Wonder what they'll have for tea; Hope the jam is strawberry. Wonder what the dance and game; Feel so very glad they came. Very Happy may you be, May you much enjoy your tea.

WHEN WE WENT OUT WITH GRANDMAMMA

When we went out with Grandmamma— Mamma said for a treat— Oh, dear, how stiff we had to walk As we went down the street. One on each side we had to go, And never laugh or loll; I carried Prim, her Spaniard dog, And Tom—her parasol. If I looked right—if Tom looked left— "Tom—Susan—I'm ashamed; And little Prim, I'm sure, is shocked, To hear such naughties named." She said we had no manners, If we ever talked or sung; "You should have seen," said Grandmamma, "Me walk, when I was young." She told us—oh, so often— How little girls and boys, In the good days when she was young, Never made any noise. She said they never wished then To play—oh, indeed! They learnt to sew and needlework, Or else to write and read. She said her mother never let Her speak a word at meals; "But now," said Grandmamma, "you'd think That children's tongues had wheels "So fast they go—clack, clack, clack, clack; Now listen well, I pray, And let me see you both improve From what I've said to-day."

TO MYSTERY LAND

Oh, dear, how will it end? Peggy and Susie how naughty you are. You little know where you are, Going so far, and so high, Nearly up to the sky. Perhaps it's a Giant who lives there, And perhaps it's a lovely Princess. But you very well know You've no business to go; You'll get yourselves into a mess. Oh, dear, I'm sure it is true; Whatever on earth can it matter to you? For you know it—oh, fie— That it's naughty to pry Into other's affairs— Into other folks houses to go, Where you know You're not asked. So you'd better come back While there's time, it is plain. Go home—and be never So naughty again.

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