. St. Nicholas [serial]. THE FEAST OF THE DOLL. i3 - By Nora Archibald Smith. In flowry Japan, the home of the fan,The land of the parasol, Each month has its feast, from greatest to least,And March is the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,And March is the Feast of the Doll. The wee, slippered maid in gown of brocadeAnd newest and best folderol, The little brown lad in embroidery clad,All troop to the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,All troop to the Feast of the Doll. How pleasant t would be, neath an almond-tree,% In sunshine and perfume to loll, Forget our own spring, with its wineand its sting,And si
. St. Nicholas [serial]. THE FEAST OF THE DOLL. i3 - By Nora Archibald Smith. In flowry Japan, the home of the fan,The land of the parasol, Each month has its feast, from greatest to least,And March is the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,And March is the Feast of the Doll. The wee, slippered maid in gown of brocadeAnd newest and best folderol, The little brown lad in embroidery clad,All troop to the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,All troop to the Feast of the Doll. How pleasant t would be, neath an almond-tree,% In sunshine and perfume to loll, Forget our own spring, with its wineand its sting,And sing to the praise of the Doll-doll-doll,And sing to the praise of the Doll! Come, sweet Tippytoes, as pink as a rose, And I will get Betty and Moll;Let us follow the plan of the folk in Japan, And dance for your Feast, little Doll-doll-doll, And dance for your Feast, little HOW DO YOU KNOW — There s a boy in the house ? By the cap that is hanging downstairs in the hall;By the gun and the pistol, the bat and the ball;The Indian war-dance, the toy-cannons roar,That are heard, now and then, through the nursery door;By the engines and drums and the tool-chest and nails,The steam-cars and tracks and the boats with trim sails;By the volumes of Cooper which from cover to coverHave been read and re-read by an Indian-lover. But you must take care, if you value your head,When you go to the nursery, declares Uncle Fred. When I open the door there s a scramble and shout;I m attacked by a brigand, and / // never doubtWho clutches me fast, as a cat does a mouse —Well, these are good signs there s a boy in the house!
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
