. House of play; verses-rhymes-stories for young folks .. . Franklin. A little boy once played so loudThat the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud,Said, Since / cant be heard, why then,Ill never, never thunder again! II. And a little girl once kept so stillThat she heard a fly on the window-sillWhisper and say to a lady-bird,-—Shes the stillest child I ever heard! WHitcomb Kiley. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. How pleasant it is at the end of the day, No follies to have to repent;But reflect on the past and be able to say, That my time has been properly spent. When Ive done all my work with patien
. House of play; verses-rhymes-stories for young folks .. . Franklin. A little boy once played so loudThat the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud,Said, Since / cant be heard, why then,Ill never, never thunder again! II. And a little girl once kept so stillThat she heard a fly on the window-sillWhisper and say to a lady-bird,-—Shes the stillest child I ever heard! WHitcomb Kiley. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. How pleasant it is at the end of the day, No follies to have to repent;But reflect on the past and be able to say, That my time has been properly spent. When Ive done all my work with patience and care,And been good and obliging and kind, I lay on my pillow and sleep away care,With a happy and peaceable mind. But instead of all this, if it must be confessed, That I careless and idle have been,/ lay down as usual and go to my rest, But full discontented within. Then, as I dont like all the trouble Ive had. In future Ill try to prevent it,For I never am naughty without being sad, Or good—without being contented. •—Jane and Ann BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers—*Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare,Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there. Ere the snowdrop peepeth, Ere the crocus bold,Ere the early primrose Opes its paly gold,Somewhere on the sunny bank Buttercups are bright;Somewhere mong the frozen grass Peeps the daisy white. Little hardy flowers, Like to children poor,Playing in their sturdy health By their mothers door,Purple with the north wind, Yet alert and bold; Fearing not, and caring not,Though they be a-cold! What to them is Winter! What are stormy showers!Buttercups and daisies Are these human flowers!He who gave them hardships And a life of care, •» Gave them likewise hardy strengthAnd patient hearts to bear. —Mary Howiti.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyorkcupplesleon
