Children's Literature Part 105

Then away!

Do not stay.

Little fly, good-day!

276

Prominent among American writers who have contributed to the happiness of children is Lucy Larcom (1826-1893). One of a numerous family, she worked as a child in the Lowell mills, later taught school in Illinois, was one of the editors of _Our Young Folks_, and wrote a most fascinating autobiography called _A New England Girlhood_. Several of her poems are still used in schools. The one that follows is, perhaps, the most popular of these. It is semi-dramatic, and the three voices of the poem can be easily discovered. Miss Larcom's finest poem is the one ent.i.tled "Hannah Binding Shoes."

THE BROWN THRUSH

LUCY LARCOM

There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree, He's singing to me! He's singing to me!

And what does he say, little girl, little boy?

"Oh, the world's running over with joy!

Don't you hear? Don't you see?

Hush! Look! In my tree I'm as happy as happy can be!"

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see, And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree?

Don't meddle! Don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy!

Now I'm glad! Now I'm free!

And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me.

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, "Oh, the world's running over with joy!"

But long it won't be, Don't you know? don't you see?

Unless we are as good as can be.

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Mrs. Child (1802-1880) was the editor of the first monthly for children in the United States, the _Juvenile Miscellany_. She wrote and compiled several works for children, and her optimistic outlook has led someone to speak of her as the "Apostle of Cheer." She wrote a novel, _Hobomak_ (1821), which is still spoken of with respect, and she was a prominent figure in the anti-slavery agitation. The two poems following have held their own with children for reasons easily recognized.

THANKSGIVING DAY

LYDIA MARIA CHILD

Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow.

Over 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 barnyard gate.

We seem to go Extremely slow, It is so hard to wait!

Over the river and through the wood-- Now grandmother's cap I spy!

Hurrah for the fun!

Is the pudding done?

Hurrah for pumpkin-pie!

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WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S NEST?

LYDIA MARIA CHILD

"To-whit! to-whit! to-whee!

Will you listen to me?

Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made?"

"Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo!

Such a thing I'd never do.

I gave you a wisp of hay, But didn't take your nest away.

Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo!

Such a thing I'd never do."

"To-whit! to-whit! to-whee!

Will you listen to me?

Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made?"

"Bob-o'-link! Bob-o'-link!

Now what do you think?

Who stole a nest away From the plum-tree, to-day?"

"Not I," said the dog, "Bow-wow!

I wouldn't be so mean, anyhow!

I gave the hairs the nest to make, But the nest I did not take.

Not I," said the dog, "Bow-wow!

I'm not so mean, anyhow."

"To-whit! to-whit! to-whee!

Will you listen to me?

Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made?"