Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories Part 20

THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS

(A CAT'S TALE, WITH ADDITIONS)

Three little kittens lost their mittens; And they began to cry, O mother dear, We very much fear That we have lost our mittens.

Lost your mittens!

You naughty kittens!

Then you shall have no pie.

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

No, you shall have no pie.

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

The three little kittens found their mittens, And they began to cry, O mother dear, See here, see here; See, we have found our mittens.

Put on your mittens, You silly kittens, And you may have some pie.

Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r, O let us have the pie.

Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.

The three little kittens put on their mittens, And soon ate up the pie; O mother dear, We greatly fear That we have soiled our mittens.

Soiled your mittens!

You naughty kittens!

Then they began to sigh, Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow, Then they began to sigh.

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

The three little kittens washed their mittens, And hung them out to dry; O mother dear, Do not you hear, That we have washed our mittens?

Washed your mittens!

O, you're good kittens.

But I smell a rat close by; Hush! hush! mee-ow, mee-ow.

We smell a rat close by, Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

ELIZA LEE FOLLEN

THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE

When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With different uniforms and drills, Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill, And sees before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL

There was a little girl, And she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good She was very, very good, And when she was bad she was horrid.

One day she went upstairs, When her parents, unawares, In the kitchen were occupied with meals, And she stood upon her head In her little trundle-bed, And then began hooraying with her heels.

Her mother heard the noise, And she thought it was the boys A-playing at a combat in the attic; But when she climbed the stair, And found Jemima there, She took and she did spank her most emphatic.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

THE BOY WHO NEVER TOLD A LIE

Once there was a little boy, With curly hair and pleasant eye-- A boy who always told the truth, And never, never told a lie.

And when he trotted off to school, The children all about would cry, "There goes the curly-headed boy-- The boy that never tells a lie."

And everybody loved him so, Because he always told the truth, That every day, as he grew up, 'Twas said, "There goes the honest youth."

And when the people that stood near Would turn to ask the reason why, The answer would be always this: "Because he never tells a lie."

FOREIGN CHILDREN

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or j.a.panee, O! don't you wish that you were me?

You have seen the scarlet trees And the lions over seas; You have eaten ostrich eggs, And turned the turtles off their legs.

Such a life is very fine, But it's not so nice as mine: You must often, as you trod, Have wearied _not_ to be abroad.

You have curious things to eat, I am fed on proper meat; You must dwell beyond the foam, But I am safe and live at home.

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or j.a.panee, O! don't you wish that you were me?

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON