A Jolly Jingle-Book Part 1

A Jolly Jingle-Book.

by Various.

How can they put in black and white What little children think at night, When lights are out and prayers are said, And you are all tucked up in bed?

Such funny dreams go dancing through Your head, of things n.o.body knew, Or saw, or ever half believes!-- They're all inside these singing leaves.

And little children laugh and go A-ring-a-round-a-rosy-O; And birds sing gay--you'd almost think You listened to a bobolink.

Look at the pictures, one by one!

The rhymes are only half the fun.

It laughs and bubbles like a brook-- My pretty, jolly jingle-book!

MR. TONGUE

A little red man in a little red house With gates of ivory!

He _might_ stay there, as still as a mouse, And n.o.body could see; But talk he will, and laugh he will, At everything you do; And come to the door and peep, until I know his name--don't you?

KISSES

"Here's a kiss for every year, And here is one to grow on!"

Father says and mother says And auntie says, and so on.

"Here's a pat and there's a pat!"

If growing comes of kisses, I know how one girl found a way To grow as big as this is!

THE TRIALS OF TRAVEL

Boohoo, boohoo, boohoo, boohoo!

My mother says I can't take Sue And Grace and Maud and Clarabel And Ruth and Beth and sweet Estelle, Unless I pack them with our things.

Oh dear! oh dear! my heart it wrings To put them in that hot, dark place, With paper wrapped around each face.

I'm sure they all would suffocate Or meet some other dreadful fate.

I'd gladly take them on my arm And keep them safe from every harm, But mother says that that won't do; She draws the line at more than two.

I'd like to know what she would say To sending me packed in a tray.

REBECCA DEMING MOORE.

THE QUARREL

The Wooden Dog and the China Cat Face to face in the doll-house sat, And they picked a quarrel that grew and grew, Because they had nothing else to do.

Said the dog, "I really would like to hear Why you never stir nor frisk nor purr, But sit like a mummy there."

Up spoke in a temper the china puss, Glad of an opening for a fuss: "Dear Mr. Puppy, I can't recall That I ever heard you bark at all.

Your bark is a wooden bark, 'tis true, But as to that," said the China Cat, "My mew is a china mew."

So they bristled and quarreled, more and more, Till the baby came creeping across the floor.

He took the cat by his whiskers frail, He grasped the dog by his wooden tail, And banged them together--and after that Left them, a wiser Wooden Dog And a sadder China Cat.

Now, children, just between you and me, Don't you think in the future they will agree?

NANCY BYRD TURNER.

MY PLAYMATES

When Willie comes to visit me We play menagerie.

He says, "Pretend that you're a lamb, And I'll a lion be."

Then he begins to growl and roar And make a dreadful noise.

I don't mind much when he goes home; It's hard to play with boys.

When Julia comes to visit me I am her waiting maid, While she's a lady, grand and stern.

Of her I'm 'most afraid.

She sends me for my mother's hat, Then takes her nicest skirt, And trails it all around the house Until it's full of dirt.

When Alice comes to play with me She asks, "What shall we play?"

I answer, "Anything you like."

She coaxes, "Do _please_ say."

Sometimes it's dolls, sometimes it's games, No matter what it be, I have the very nicest time When Alice plays with me.

REBECCA DEMING MOORE.

A PUZZLING THING

Eight of us went to a party-- The nicest ever given.

There was apple fluff, and frosted stuff, And cake and candy and fruit enough, But seats for only seven!

Eight of us hurried homeward After the happy treat, With run and bound; yet there were found Only the tracks on the dusty ground Of seven pairs of feet!

Eight of us got back safely, And seven told with glee Of all we'd done, and the feast and the fun-- But one of us was a silent one.

Now, which can that one be?