In My Nursery Part 11

Rise! rise! children, rise!

Shake the poppies from your eyes.

Sweet! sweet! chirrup! tweet!

Morning blossoms at your feet.

Song and sweetness, dawn and dew, All are waiting now for you.

Wake! wake! children, wake!

Here we're singing for your sake.

THE EVE OF THE GLORIOUS FOURTH.

I.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, They vowed, every one, they'd have glorious fun On the glorious Fourth of July.

They spent all their money on trumpets and drums, On fish-horns and pistols and guns, On elephant crackers (which they p.r.o.nounced "whackers"), On toffee, torpedoes, and buns.

II.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, They said with delight, "We will sit up all night, To make ready for Fourth of July.

We will beat on our drums till the constable comes, And then we will hasten away.

We will toot the gay horn till the coming of morn, The morn of the glorious day."

III.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, They made such a noise that the other small boys With envy were ready to die.

They made such a din that the neighbors within With fury were ready to choke, With rage at the drumming and strumming and humming, The pistols and powder and smoke.

IV.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, They thought 'twould be best for a moment to rest, And their toffee and buns for to try.

On the steps of a house they began to carouse, And they shouted and shrieked in their glee, As they fired their guns and devoured their buns In a manner both frolic and free.

V.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, Ah! nothing they saw of the opening door, Nothing knew of the peril so nigh.

A horrid great man with a watering-can Was standing behind them so still, And suddenly down on each curly crown Its contents he poured with a will.

VI.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, With squeaks and with squeals did they take to their heels, While their enemy after did fly.

And he beat them with sticks, and he kicked them with kicks, And he thumped on their heads with the can, And half-way up the street he pursued them so fleet, Still thumping their heads as he ran.

VII.

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned, Philip and Peter and Guy, They said, every one, that it wasn't much fun Getting ready for Fourth of July.

They crept to their beds and they laid down their heads, And they slept till the sun was on high, And when they awaked, so sorely they ached, That they just could do nothing but cry.

THE DANDY CAT.

To Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Tabby de Sly His mistress remarked one day, "I'm tormented, my cat, both by mouse and by rat: Come rid me of them, I pray!

"For though you're a cat of renowned descent, And your kittenhood's long been gone, Yet never a trace of the blood of your race In battle or siege you've shown."

Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Tabby de Sly Arose from his downy bed.

He washed himself o'er, from his knightly paw To the top of his knightly head.

And he curled his whiskers, and combed his hair, And put on his perfumed gloves; And his sword he girt on, which had never been drawn Save to dazzle the eyes of his loves.

And when he had cast one admiring glance On the looking-gla.s.s tall and fair, To the pantry he pa.s.sed; but he stood aghast, For lo! the pantry was bare!

The pickles, the cookies, the pies were gone!

And naught remained on the shelf Save the bone of a ham, which lay cold and calm, The ghost of its former self.

Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin stood sore dismayed, And he looked for the mice and rats.

But they, every one, had been long since gone Far, far from the reach of cats.

For while he was donning his satin pelisse, And his ribbons and laces gay, They had finished their feast, without hurry the least, And had tranquilly trotted away.

The mistress of Green-eyes Grimalkin de Sly, A woman full stern was she.

She came to the door, and she rated him sore When the state of the case she did see.

She grasped him, spite of his knightly blood, By the tip of his knightly tail; His adornments she stripped, and his body she dipped Three times in the water-pail.

She plunged him thrice 'neath the icy flood, Then turned him out-doors to dry; And terror and cold on his feelings so told, That he really was like to die.

And now in this world 'twould be hard to find, Although you looked low and high, A cat who cares less for the beauties of dress Than Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Sly.

A PARTY.

On w.i.l.l.y's birthday, as you see, These little boys have come to tea.

But, oh! how very sad to tell!