. House of play; verses-rhymes-stories for young folks .. . delicate grace. While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell. The time by the tower, and adds, All is well. The tulips are hid ncath a rug 01 soft \vhitc, Theyre dreaming of spring, and the sun warm and bright, The rollicking lads, with the lassies in wake, SA-ecp by on their ice skates of old Friesian make, While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell, The time by the tower, and adds, All is well. In the land of the windmills, the stars one by oneSlowly people the heavens, for night has rosy-cheeked babi
. House of play; verses-rhymes-stories for young folks .. . delicate grace. While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell. The time by the tower, and adds, All is well. The tulips are hid ncath a rug 01 soft \vhitc, Theyre dreaming of spring, and the sun warm and bright, The rollicking lads, with the lassies in wake, SA-ecp by on their ice skates of old Friesian make, While the watchman calls out, with a voice like a bell, The time by the tower, and adds, All is well. In the land of the windmills, the stars one by oneSlowly people the heavens, for night has rosy-cheeked babies, in nightcap and gown,Are asleep in their cradles with curtains hung down,While the watchman calls out with a voice like a bell,The time by the tower, and adds, All is well. *—Ella Broes van Heekeren. He that complies against his willIs of the same opinion 5 till. — Samuel Bulter. IF I WERE A COBBLER. If I were a cobbler, I would make it my pride The best of all cobblers to be;If \ were a tinker, no tinker besideShould inend an old kettle like THANKSGIVING DAY. Over the river and through the wood,To grandfathers house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleighThrough the white and drifted the river and through the wood—-Oh, how the wind does 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-ding!Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!Over the river and through the wood,Trot fast, my dapple-gray! 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 seem to goExtremely slow—It is so hard to wait!Over the river and through the wood-Now grandmothers cap I spy!Hurrah for the fun!Is the pudding done?Hurrah for the pumpkin pie! —Lydia Maria Child. Ji HALLUCINATIONS. He thought he saw an Elephant,That practiced on a fife. He looked again, and foun
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyorkcupplesleon
