Elfin Songs of Sunland

COME away children, frisk along with me,
For I’ll be the piper and merry will we be;
With laughter and dancing and sports to make us gay,
O there’s sunshine and there’s singing—come away, come away!

Come away children, leave the town behind;
Follow me to Happy-land and see what we shall find,
Where the flowers smile to see you and the birdies trill and play
Just because the sun is shining—come away, come away!

Come away children, I’ll pipe an elfin tune
And we’ll play that we are fairies dancing in the summer moon;
We’ll pretend that we are flowers in the carnival of May
If you’ll join the merry crew and come away, come away!

HAND-ORGAN MAN, O hand-organ man,
Grind out the music as fast as you can,
With a tum-turi tum-turi hippity hay,
And a red-coated monkey to frolic and play.

The organ rings merrily on down the street,
And the very policeman steps out to your beat,
When, sucking her stick of molasses, comes Jennie
To give that impertinent monkey a penny.

O toodle de toodle de, hand-organ grinder,
No man in the city to children is kinder,
And my little kid brother just played not to care
When the monkey jumped on him and grabbed at his hair.

COME, you merry little fellows,
Poke the coals and blow the bellows;
Here’s the popper, shell the corn,
And let it pop this winter morn.

Pop-a-tee-pop-pop-pop!
See the kernels skip and hop,
See them puff out full and white,
Hear them crackle in affright.

Now shake, shake, shake,
Till your hands and faces bake;
Tip it, turn it,
Or you’ll burn it,
And a dreadful muss you’ll make.

[Pg 6] Now it’s done we’ll have a feast;
Smallest hands must take the least!
Hot and crisp and white and sweet,—
Isn’t this a jolly treat!

O WHO do you think is the baker man,
And how do you think he makes his cake?
He mixes his dough in an old tin can
And puts it out in the sun to bake.
He pats pats pats at his little mud pies;
He rounds them and rolls them and looks so wise.

The baker man is my brother Ned,
And out in the garden he’s working away,
Right by the scarlet geranium bed,
And his hands and his face are just covered with clay,
As he pats pats pats at his little mud pies;
[Pg 8] As he rounds them and rolls them and looks so wise.

HOW would you like to be a top,
To be made to spin till you couldn’t stop;—
To be pitched head first from a coil of string,
To be made to dance till you sigh and swing?

There’s the top that is whipped and the top with a peg
That gouges its brother and leaves him to beg;
There’s the musical top with holes in its side,
That is said to have played till it fell down and died.

[Pg 10] But of all the tops that ever were spun,
The biggest are those of the old daddy Sun;
And I’ll wager he has just the jolliest sport
With the Earth and with Saturn and tops of that sort.

BLOW, wind, blow, wind,
Fly, kite, fly!
On and on you go, wind,
Up, kite, high!

Out sweeps your tail, kite,
Tug on the string;
Far away you sail, kite,
Proudly you swing.

If I were like you, kite,
One white wing,
With nothing else to do, kite,
But tug upon the string.

[Pg 12] I’d sail up from town, kite,
To see the moon’s back,
And then slide down, kite,
The Milky-Way’s track.

O BALANCE the ladder atop of the rail,
And up we go, down we go, all in a gale,
Singing like birds as we teeter away,
Bouncing and jouncing each other in play.

You are Queen Sally and I am King Peter,
And where are we going astride of our teeter?
Riding to fairyland, over the moon.
Up we go,—down!—and we’ll be there soon.

FLUBBLETY, flopplety, bubble and spatter,
Soap-suds and water and clay-pipes and chatter!
Puff little cheeklets and blow, blow, blow!
Look at the bubbles beginning to grow!

O what a beauty, all purple and pink!
Whiff! it has vanished before you can think!
Now look at this one with clouds and a tree
Swimming about in a gold-lighted sea!

Hurrah, it is floating away through the air!
Car of the fairies was never more fair.
Zip comes a goblin and clips it away!
What will the fairy who rode in it say?

IT makes me feel so fine and gay
When drums are beat and bugles play;
I think I’d like to be a king
And rule the earth and everything.

The big bass-drum
Goes dum, dum, dum,
The horns play tweedle dee,
And every toot and every beat
Just catches hold of my two feet
And makes them run away from me.
And this is what I hear them say
As down the street they march away:
Te dum ratta dum, ratta dum, dum dee,
[Pg 16] Te dum, ratta dum, shout hurrah boys with me!
Tweedle twee twee twee, tweedle anything you can,
For I’m going to be a soldier when I get to be a man!

STAND still, Mr. Horse, while I jump on your back
To ride in the ring of the whirligig’s track.
The boys and girls shout as the man cries, “Hold fast.”
The music is playing—we’re started at last!

O faster and faster we rock and we spin
Around, keeping time to the musical din,
Then I pull on my reins and cry “Whoa!” to the horse,
For that is the right way to stop him, of course.

But we go and we go and we don’t mind a pin
[Pg 18]If we end where we started and have to begin
On the merry-go-round, the merry-go-round—
’Tis the best kind of travel I ever have found!

TO-TOO! to-too! Ka-ding, ka-dong!
Down the mole comes the flyer a-zipping along,—
Smoke clouds panting and hissing of steam,
Rattling of rails and a sudden scream!

The iron dragon snorts up to the station,
The proudest beast in the wide creation;
Fed on fire it puffs and blows,
Cyclops-eyed like a fiend it glows.

We kiss our hands to the friends by the Bay,
On the dragon’s tail we are whisked away,
And faster we whiz by the glistening shore,—
Towns spin past as we ride with a roar.

[Pg 20] Now the iron throat is gasping astrain
As the beast up the mountains is dragging his train.
O where are you taking us, monster of steel?
Out in the darkness the pine-trees reel!

Over the desert we swing and fly,
Towns and prairies are flashing by;
When, lo! to your castle you plunge in the night,—
The great walls tower in ghostly light.

Does a princess live in that tall black tower?
Are all of the people here under your power?
I never was certain that dragons were true
Till I got on your tail and rode with you!

SNAP-the-whip and tug-of-war—
What is all this tussle for?
Hare-and-hounds and prisoners-base,
Just to make you puff and race!

Balls to bat and balls to kick
Make you nimble, make you quick;
And anyhow I like to play,
So come on boys,—hurray, hurray!

WE boys love to swim on a hot summer day
In the pool where the pond-lilies float;
There’s Willie and Frankie and Bennie and Jay
Adrift in a leaky old boat.

As Ben splashes under, a kingfisher cries:
“You’ll frighten my fish with your noise,”
While the frog on the lily-pad croaks in surprise:
“What awkward great creatures are boys!”

The poor little catfish way down in the mud
Can’t imagine what’s coming its way
[Pg 23]As Frank dives head-first with a splash and a thud,
Close followed by Willie and Jay.

Then to lie in the sand when the swimming is done,
While the skater-bugs dance on the stream!
Just a tickle of wind and a shower of sun
And a sigh of content as we dream!

SUNSHINE boy of the world of play,
Laughing out in the wind away,
Singing free as a song-bird wild,—
O that is the way of my elfin child!

Love in the heart thro’ the day-bright hours,
Joy on the lips like the smiling flowers,
Peace on the face when the night is starred
And sleep steals over my Leonarde.

THERE are many good books, my child,
But the best of them all for you
Is the book that is hid in the greenwood wild,
All bound in a cover of blue.

’Tis the book of the birds and the bees,
Of the flowers and the fish in the brook;
You may learn how to read if you go to the trees
And open your eyes and look.

TELL me little spider,
Who taught you how to spin?
Tell me little minnow,
How you learned to use your fin?

Tell me little swallow,
Who taught you how to fly?
And they each said, “It is easy
If you only try and try.”

IN the Berkeley Hills for miles away
I went a-roaming one winter’s day,
And what do you think I saw, my dear?
A place where the sky came down to the hill,
And a big white cloud on the fresh green grass,
And bright red berries my basket to fill,
And mustard that grew in a golden mass,—
All on a winter’s day, my dear!

SEE the little drops of rain,
Falling, falling,
Softly calling
Flowers back to life again.

First the blades of grass appear,
Upward creeping,
Shyly peeping
O’er the meadow far and near.

Then the mustard spreads its gold,—
Opes its flowers
To the showers,
Little heeding winter’s cold.

[Pg 31] Poppies’ velvet petals glow;
Each new-comer
Thinks ’tis summer,
Though the winter breezes blow.

And the little drops of rain,
Softly falling
Still are calling
Flowers forth on hill and plain.

O APRIL fields are fair to see—
Tum tiddle tum, tiddle tum tum tee!
The grass and the snow play at hide and seek,
And the sun ’round the rim of a cloud will peek;
O fie and fiddle and ha ha he!

Up came an old man as I sang my song,
With a “Hi, Johnnie, hi; skip along, skip along!”
“And who are you, sir?” said I; and quoth he:
“Mr. Wind is my name, hop along with me”;
So we skipped and we hopped along long long.

[Pg 33] O his beard was towsled, his hair blew free—
Tum tiddle tum; little matter to me!
For he whistled and piped as we danced away,
And the best of companions I found him in play—
O fie and fiddle and ha ha he!

HIST little toddlekins, whisk and away!
Now is the time for the bogies to play;
Patter of foot-pads and eyes brightly glowing,
Noses that sniffle the night breezes blowing,
Bogies are romping the wildwood in glee,
Frisking and scampering, nimble and free.

Who are the velvet-foot, fire-eyed bogies?
Coons and coyotes and wild woodland roguies!
Playing at night-time when baby’s asleep;
Whisk! did you see that ghost jack-rabbit leap?
“Boo!” and “Boo-hoo!” cries the fluffy horned-owl,
And the wolf in the pine-woods calls back with a howl.

[Pg 35] The panther slinks on in the trail of the deer,
The wood-rats have run to their tunnels in fear,
And down the steep mountain with snuffling and shuffling
A clumsy she-bear with her cubbies is scuffling;
For night is the time for the bogies to roam,—
Hist, little toddlekins, fly to your home!

CROUCHING in his monkish gray,
Crunching at his dying prey,
Furtive eyes and pricking ears,
Haunted by a hundred fears!—
Yet the cotton-tail trembles to see him pass
With his pat pat patter on the parching grass!

Lolling tongue and panting sides,—
’Mid the tawny grass he hides.
Lowered is his bushy tail,
Keen of snout he sniffs the trail;
But he yelps and howls like a mad thing at night,
With his kai yi yi in the moon’s dim light.

[Pg 37] Friendless prowler, sage-brush thief,
Hunted rover, desert chief!
Even you who friendless roam
Have a loving mate at home,—
And her little ones yelp in their lair with delight
As she pat pat patters anear through the night.

BUZ-Z! whir-r!—a flash and away!
A midget bejeweled ’mid flowers at play!
A snip of a birdling, the blossom-bells’ king,
A waif of the sun-beams on quivering wing!

O prince of the fairies, O pigmy of fire,
Will nothing those brave little wings of yours tire?
You follow the flowers from southern lands sunny,
You pry amid petals all summer for honey.

Now rest on a twig, tiny flowerland sprite,
Your dear little lady sits near in delight;
In a wee felted basket she lovingly huddles,—
Two dots of white eggs to her warm breast she cuddles!

[Pg 39] Whiz-z! whiff! off to your flowers!
Buzz ’mid the perfume of jasmine bowers!
Chatter and chirrup, my king of the fays,
And laugh at the song that I sing in your praise.

A GRAY-STREAKED road-runner scurrying by
In a sage-brush valley, I happened to spy,—
Long-legged and thin-billed, with a stretched-out tail,
And a comical body as thin as a rail!

Oh surely, I thought, what a sad slim fowl
Compared with his neighbor the well-fed owl!
Till he pounced on a snake with a rapturous squeak,
And rapped the poor reptile a clip with his beak.

Then why is he nothing but feathers and skin?
[Pg 41] Is it running so fast that has worn him so thin?
Just think what would happen, my lad, to you,
If you ran all day like a ground cuckoo.

MY blinkety owlet atop of your mound,
Is your mate tucked away in a hole in the ground?
You bare-footed gnome in your striped suit of dun,
With your fluffy white babies that bask in the sun!

See her bobbing and blinking
As if she were thinking
Of the poor lady cricket
That chirps in the thicket!

With a snap and a chatter
Mrs. Owlet is at her,
[Pg 43] And whisk! she is beaten
And crunched up and eaten!—
That poor lady cricket
That chirped in the thicket!

My blinkety owlet, go down in your hole,
And sleep in your nest like a squirrel or mole!
Who’d think that a bird could have toes for a trowel
To grub in the ground like a burrowing owl!

THE jay is a jovial bird,—heigh-ho!
He chatters all day
In a frolicsome way
With the murmuring breezes that blow,—heigh-ho!

Hear him noisily call
From a red-wood tree tall
To his mate in the opposite tree, heigh-ho!
Saying: “How do you do?”
As his top-knot of blue
Is raised as polite as can be,—heigh-ho!

Oh impudent jay
With your plumage so gay
[Pg 45] And your manners so jaunty and free,—heigh-ho!
How little you guessed
When you robbed the wren’s nest,
That any stray fellow would see,—heigh-ho!

THE birds had a meeting,—
The owl was judge;
But a jay came along
And said ’twas all fudge.

With a quill in his ear
The shore-lark was clerk;
The wren was a witness,
And how she did perk!

The king-bird was sheriff
And brought in the shrike,
When a goldfinch could scarcely
Conceal her dislike.

What talking and squawking,
What whetting of bills!
[Pg 47] What ruffling of feathers,
What bristling of quills!

Till a fox heard the chatter
And pounced on the jay,
When swallows and sparrows
And all flew away!

IT must be risky
To frolic so frisky
Up in a swaying tree;
To scamper and skip
On a pine tree’s tip
As you chatter away at me!

Now what’s your hurry,
You wood-imp furry,
In your snug little suit of gray?
You romp and rolic
With fun and frolic
Like wind with the leaves at play.

O nervous nixie
With ways so trixie,
[Pg 49] Fidgety sprite so frail!
Sit up and munch
At your pine-nut lunch
In the shade of your bushy tail!

A WIGGLY little polliwog lived in a pool
On the edge of a stream where the water was cool,
Till one day he turned very green and pale
For he found that he surely was losing his tail,
And legs were sprouting and he caught the croup
As he crawled up the bank with a hoarse, “Ge-loup!
Ca-thump, ca-lump, ca-chug, ca-chook!

Oh what can have happened?” he asked with a croak;
[Pg 51] “This seems like a regular bull-frog joke.”
Then he stretched his legs for a mighty jump,
And right in the water he landed ka-plump;
Which made him smile from ear to ear,
For he felt so very delightfully queer
As he called to his mate, “I’m a frog, my dear!”

HORNYKINS, Hornykins, open your eye,
For close to your nose is a blue-bottle fly!
Toadykins ruffle your spines and your frills
And scurry away on the rocks to the hills!

Little squat goblin, all bristling with spikes,
Flattened-out lizard that nobody likes,
Stone-colored hermit of sage-brush and sand,
You’re the drollest hobgoblin of no-baby’s land!

A TINY gold fairy flew into a flower
One morning at cock-crow, to hide from a shower;
The drops fell a patter upon his tent roof,
But what did it matter while leaves were rain proof?

He found in the flower fine honey to eat;
“So-so,” sang the fairy, “the food here is sweet!
No prince in his palace fares better than I,
Alone in my chalice with storms blowing by!”

Now what do you think is the name of this fairy
Who hid from the shower in lily-bell airy?
[Pg 54]His coat is bright yellow, black banded with fuzz;—
This bumble-bee gay with his musical buzz!

BUTTERCUP, buttercup,
Why don’t you hurry up
Out of the ground so cold!
With your little coat yellow,
You dear little fellow,
Why doesn’t your blossom unfold?

FIVE doves the fairies took away
To the deep dark wood one summer day,
And they hung them up on a slender spray,—
Heigh-ho for the columbine!

Red and gold were the doves they took;
With heads outstretched the birdlings shook,
Till the fairies sang them to sleep by the brook,—
Heigh-ho for the columbine!

IN the forest stilly
The leopard lily
Sways on her stem so stately;
Tall as a child
In the mountains wild,
She stands and nods sedately.

Orange and red
Is her dappled head
And her anthers brown are a-quiver;
O fie on you, lily,
So vain and silly
To look at yourself in the river!

AS I walked under a black-oak tree
A little Johnny Jump-up laughed at me.
Here you yellow elf,
Go and laugh to yourself,
Or wink at the cricket that chirps on your knee.
Ha ha ha! he he he!
Merry Johnny Jump-up, wild and free!

FAIRY bells of green and brown
Hanging high in a fairy town,
With cloth of gold beneath them spread
And mossy nooks for the fairies’ bed!

Who is it rings the fairy bells,
Ding dong! ding dong! down in the dells!
Who is it flits to the fairies’ ball?
The bee and the beetle have heard their call,
Ding dong! ding dong! down in the dells!

STARS of childhood,
Stars of the wildwood,
Shooting stars of purple and pink,
Stars that hang in trembling showers,
Stars of spring that are more than flowers,
Swinging blithe at the cañon’s brink!

Birds are playing
Above you, swaying,
Beloved stars of the woodland spring!
Children shout and sing when they see you,
And where is the fairy who dares to free you,
Joyous spirits that sway and swing!

MERRY wee red-coats were frisking and dancing
Down in the rocky glen,
And the jolly old sun o’er the mountains was glancing
At the merry wee red-coated men.

Each little man had a horn on his head,
And the old sun laughed as he got out of bed!
The wind played a tune
And they danced until noon,
And, “A jolly good time we’ve had,” they said.

O TRILLIUM dear
I am glad you are here,
While March rains are pattering,
Brooklets are clattering,
Kinglets are chattering,
And you, pretty thing,
Are just smiling and dreaming of spring.

O shade-loving sprite,
The cañon’s delight,—
Three petals wine-red,
Three leaves broadly spread,
You leap from your bed
In joy, pretty thing,
To sway in the breezes of spring.

BONNY baby blue-eyes
Twinkling in the grass,
Smiling on the sunny hill
To see the children pass!

Of all the flowers of spring-time
The fairest and the frailest!
There’s gladness in your baby eyes,—
The purest and the palest!

WHO knows Rosalie?
There goes Rosalie
Out where her roses are growing!
The dear little tot
With her watering pot
Where the daisies are nodding and blowing.

It’s six o’ the clock
And the lily bells rock
In the merry warm month of July;
And Rosalie tells
All the whispering bells
Of the tear in the violet’s eye.

DEAR little rose, so sweet and fair,
You give your perfume to the air,
You give your honey to the bee,
And all the day long you smile at me.

O teach me, little rose, the way
To smile at people all the day,
To give from my heart-store the sweet
To every one I chance to meet.

I WANT to go out in the woods and play
That I am the queen of the fairies to-day;
So I’ll gather some stars from the midnight sky
(There are plenty to spare in the jewels on high)
And I’ll have them set in a crown of gold;
For a sceptre a tiger lily I’ll hold;
A violet bed will be my throne
And the beautiful world will be mine alone.

I’ll make one law my realm to bind,
That everybody must just be kind
And love all children and flowers and birds
[Pg 67]And always speak in gentle words.
What a happy land will my kingdom be
Where hopes are high and hearts are free!

HOW would you like to have for an auntie
Kittie ka dink ka dee ka dantie?
Kittie ka dink
With frolicsome wink,
Kittie ka dink
With ruffles of pink,
Kittie ka dink,—
Now what do you think
Of Kittie ka dink for an auntie?

Kittie ka dink ka dee
Is as bright as a bumble bee,
Kittie ka dink ka dee,
She dresses my dolls for me!
Kittie ka dink ka dee,—

[Pg 72] If you knew her I’m sure you’d agree
That Kittie ka dink
With frolicsome wink
In ruffles of pink,
Is the jolliest kind of an auntie!

IF I should meet a grizzly bear
A-roaming from his mountain lair,
I’d just get down on hands and knees
And growl around among the trees.

Then if my growling didn’t scare
That great ferocious grizzly bear,
I’d sing a song and at my ease
Just try my best the bear to please.

O A gentleman dressed in a high top hat
Rode on a hobby-horse just like that.
“Mr. Man, Mr. Man, O what is the matter?”
“Little boy, let me hear no more of your chatter.”

So he pranced and he kicked till his glasses fell off,
And he puffed and he choked till it made him cough;
Then he stopped and said in his solemn way,
“My child, I was merely attempting to play.”

O DOWN at Milpitas there was an old hag
Who drove to town with a bobtail nag.
She rattled along in a rickety rig,
With a red bandana to cover her wig.

When a wheel came off and she tumbled ka-flop,
She hobbled away to the blacksmith shop;
And the blacksmith said: “O Maggie Muldoon,
If you’ll dance me a breakdown I’ll sing you a tune!”

A BOOBITY bumpity bumpkin
Was sent to town with a pumpkin,
But he stumbled and tripped
As he hippity skipped,
And smackety smash went the pumpkin!

OLD Farmer Jones had a frisky old goat
That wore a long beard and a hairy black coat,
With hoofs on its feet and horns on its head,
And a sad hungry look on its face while it fed.

Now what do you think was its favorite caper?
It would eat Farmer Jones’s weekly Saturday paper;
But the diet was more than the goat could endure,
So it fed upon sawdust and rags for a cure.

O POOR Mr. Midas did nothing but think
Of the sound that his money made,—chink, chink, chink!
He filled his pockets, he filled his shoes,
But the more he gathered the less he could use.

It weighed on his mind till he scarce slept a wink,
And then he would dream of the chink, chink, chink.
He filled his boxes, he filled his bed,
And so there was nothing to fill but his head.

THREE wise men sailed away on a bat,
But the one who was bald forgot his hat;
The one who made music forgot his fife,
And the one who was married forgot his wife.

The bat flew straight to the Man in the Moon,
And they said, “Kind sir, is it night or noon?”
So the Man in the Moon his brain he racked
And decided the three wise men were cracked.

O WHAT would the turkey gobbler do
If he got the hiccoughs before he was through
With his gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble?

I’m sure that he could never see through the joke
If he started to gobble and stopped to choke
In his gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble.

The puffed-out fool would grow red in the face,
And the hens would laugh at their lord’s disgrace,
[Pg 81] At his gobble, hic! gobble, hic! gobble-gobble-gobble!

JUST listen to that,
Rat-atat-tat!
“’Tis a woodpecker,” whispered a worm.
As he crouched in a cranny
He called to his granny,
“Hark hark, hark hark,
Rap-a-tap on the bark,
That noise makes me shiver and squirm!”

Then a long barbed tongue
Right through him was flung,
And down in the gizzard he wallowed;
It made him grow pale
Till he thought of the whale
[Pg 83] With Jonah inside,
Then he shivered and cried:
“’Tis a fatal mistake to be swallowed.”

LITTLE white furrykins,
Sly pussie purrykins,
Snoozing all day by the grate
Pinky-nosed kittie cat,
Who wouldn’t pity that
Snip of a mouse that you ate!

Hittlety skittlety,
Mousie squeaked, “Mercy me!”—
Off went his head with a snap;
Ere he knew what had jolted him,
Kittie had bolted him
And stretched herself out for a nap.

THERE are china cups and china dolls
And Chinamen galore,
All huddled in together
In a little China store.

The china cups are pretty
And the china dolls, O dear,
I wish I had a hundred
Sitting round me now, right here.

But the Chinaman that sells them,
With his slits of eyes askew,
And hair all braided down his back
In such a funny queue!—

[Pg 89] If all his dolls should grow and grow
Until like him they grew,
And I should have the care of them,
O dear, what would I do?

DOLLIE’S in the cradle
Falling fast asleep;
Hush, little mamma,
Run and take a peep.

Whisper low to dollie:
“Dream of pleasant things,
Fairies in the doll house
A-dance in fairy rings;

“Fairies round the cradle
Flying to and fro,
Singing in the moonlight
Fairy music low.”

Shut are dollie’s eyelids,
Cover up her arm;
[Pg 91]Keep the little dollie dear
Safe from every harm.

WHAT can little baby do?
Clap his hands and coo and coo;
Kick and roll and smile and grow,—
That is why we love him so!

LITTLE brother full of glee,
With dainty hand and dimpled knee,
Chubby little laughing boy,
Father’s pride and Mother’s joy!

Ringlets gold on shapely head,
Smiles that break ere tears have fled,
Eyes of blue that open wide,
Wondering at the world outside!

Merry spirit, sweetly wild,
Why are you, my precious child,
Dearer far than any other
Loving sister’s little brother?

HORSE and cart and tinkling lines,
Rattling under the passion vines;
Up the road and down the lane
And round the yard to the door again!

Babe is driver, snap the whip!
Watch the turn and don’t you tip.
Nero barks as the chickens scatter,
Dust is flying and cart-wheels clatter.

Nell, the cook at the kitchen door,
Wonders what the noise is for.
Round the house on the run they go
Till baby calls to the horsie,—“whoa!”

MY little Donkey is a dear,
We call her Mistress Bunny,
Her ears are very long and queer
And her voice is O so funny,—
Haw-he, haw-he, haw-he!

I saddle her and bridle her
And on her back I climb
To ride around the Berkeley streets
And have a happy time,—
Haw-he, haw-he, haw-he!

I tied her with a long, long rope
Where she could eat the grass,
But O my burro broke her rope
And ran away, alas!
Haw-he, haw-he, haw-he!

BABY with the big blue eyes,
Tell me why you look so wise
When you watch the kitties play,
Or old Billy eating hay.

Do the horses talk to you,
Baby with the eyes of blue?
Can you tell me what they say
When they look at you and neigh?

And the romping kitties, too,
When they cry out, mew, mew, mew,
Have they secrets, baby dear,
Only meant for you to hear?

When the doggie says, bow-wow
To the lazy muley-cow,
[Pg 97] And the cow replies, moo, moo,
Are they talking still to you?

And the piggie in her pen,
Grunting to the setting hen,
Ugh, ugh, ugh, can baby tell
What the piggie means to spell?

Lying in her bed at morn,
Baby hears a lusty horn
Sounding, rook-a-dook-a-doo!
And baby laughs as if she knew.

Baby loves them, one and all,
And she answers when they call;
And they tell her wondrous tales
Of the barnyard, hills and dales.

LITTLE eyes droop in the dim evening light;
Wave your hand, little maiden, good-bye, good-night;

Throw a kiss to the doggie—he’s wagging his tail—
And wave to the muley-cow down in the dale.

Hark! hark! she is ringing good-night with her bell;—
Now toss to the kitties a sweet farewell.

Good-night to the birds, in the branches asleep,
Good-night to the stars that twinkle and peep;

[Pg 99] Good-night to the horn of the moon in the west,
And toddle away to your warm little nest.

I HAVE many little doggie friends;
There’s Jip who wags at both his ends,
And Buddie like a ball of silk,
Who laps the cream and sniffs at milk,
And Judie with her rubber ball
Who never minds me when I call,
And Rab who runs before the horse,—
I love to hear him bark, of course,
’Cept sometimes he most barks in two,
And then I wish he’d stop, don’t you?

HAVE you seen my little animals
Shut in a paper house?—
There’s a donkey and a camel
With a kittie and a mouse;

There’s a doggie and an elephant,
A lion and a bear,
All huddled in together,
And they never seem to care!

O I’m very, very hungry
And I think I’d like to eat
The donkey and the lion
And the elephant for meat;

[Pg 102] They are all made out of crackers,
And if Mamma says I may,
I’ll eat a half a bag of them
And give the rest away.

SIX jolly little Eskimo
Lived in the land of ice and snow.
They played with their ivory dolls all night
In a stuffy igloo with a smoky oil light.
I wouldn’t live in a smoky igloo,
Would you?

They dressed in seal-skin from hood to heel;
I wonder how such a suit would feel!
They chewed their blubber and smacked their lips
And wiggled their toes and finger tips,
But I wouldn’t like such food to chew,
Would you?

[Pg 106] And when they were tired of eating and play
Their mammas stowed them safely away
In the big white skin of a polar bear.
Six little black heads in a row were there,
But I wouldn’t like to be one of that crew,
Would you?

BAH low mah littl’ honey,
Bah low, littl’ piccaninny boy,
Shoo, shoo, littl’ coon, mah sonny,
Stop yoh winkin’ at yoh mammy, littl’ joy.

Sh! Sh! de wind comes creepin’,
Now cuddle close to mammy—so—so.
Quit yoh fussin’, don’ yoh know it’s time foh sleepin’
When de moon peeks in an’ tells yoh, littl’ Joe?

Go to sleep, shut yoh eyes, littl’ coon
Or de Voodoo come an’ fetch yoh right away;
[Pg 108]Carry yoh cleah up into de moon,
An’ den what would yoh poh old mammy say?

THE Mexican babies are chubby and gay;
Each family has ten or a dozen,
And all in the town are related, they say,
From a first to a twentieth cousin.

The house is adobe, the floor is of dirt;
In the patio sheltered and sunny
The babies can toddle with never a shirt
While their mammas can sing without money.

If the little black-headed brown baby should cry,
Or madre grow sick of his prattle,
His tears in an instant his sister can dry
With the end of a snake for a rattle.

[Pg 110] Their little black dogs are a sight to behold,
All hairless and wrinkled as mummies;
With blankets about them to keep out the cold,
And the babies about them for chummies.

How happy these imps from the day they are born,—
They toddle and tumble in tatters;
Their faces are dirty, their clothes are all torn,
But nobody thinks that it matters.

UP in Winnemucca in Piute land,
Where the hot sun falls on the sage-brush sand,
A little papoose in a basket lay,
Fat as a badger and ready for play.

Mahali was proud of the way he grew
Upon acorn soup and on pine-nut stew;
She caught him a lizard and let it wiggle,
Which set him off in a Piute giggle.

But the brush hut is lonely, for father’s not there;
In ghost-land he’s hunting the bison and bear.
[Pg 112] Soon you will follow; alas—too soon,
As your clan moves on toward the setting moon!

COCOANUT milk and poi,
Cocoanut curds and fish,
For the Honolulu boy,—
What more could a baby wish?

Taro and yams and chicken,—
Baby shall have a feast,—
Bones of the pig for pickin’,
Fat little face well greased!

A sleep in the house of grasses,
A swim in the cool lagoon,
A kiss as the trade wind passes,
And a low Kanaka tune!

LIE on your mat, little tama, and sleep;
The pigeon has gone to its rest in the palm;
I see the bright moon through the ifi trees peep,
And the sleepy waves sing on the coral reef calm.

Sing to my tama, soft waves of the sea;
Some day he’ll ride in his rocking canoe,—
Ride on your laughing crests, happy and free,
Joyous to roll on your rollicking blue.

[Pg 115] Sleep, little tama, the bats flutter low,
The breeze through the breadfruit-tree sighs to the star;
And out on the water, with torches aglow,
Your father and brother are fishing afar.

Tina will tuck the siapo around;
Sleep, little chief, for the spirits are nigh!
Fish-gods and wind-gods, and gods of the ground
Watch my brown baby as round him they fly!