أنت هنا
قراءة كتاب Baby Chatterbox
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 3
class="i2">And as hard to manage, as—ah!—ah, me!
'Tis hard to tell,
Yet we love him well.
Only, a boy, with his fearful tread,
Who cannot be driven, but must be led;
Who troubles the neighbors' dogs and cats,
And who tears more clothes and spoils more hats,
Loses more tops, and kites, and bats,
Than would stock a store,
For a year or more.
Who cannot be driven, but must be led;
Who troubles the neighbors' dogs and cats,
And who tears more clothes and spoils more hats,
Loses more tops, and kites, and bats,
Than would stock a store,
For a year or more.
Only a boy, who will be a man,
If nature goes on with her first great plan;
If water, or fire, or some fatal snare
Conspire not to rob us of this, our heir.
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care;
Our torment, our joy—
"Only, a boy."
If nature goes on with her first great plan;
If water, or fire, or some fatal snare
Conspire not to rob us of this, our heir.
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care;
Our torment, our joy—
"Only, a boy."
JOHNNY AND THE TOAD.
Johnny.
I want to go to school,
And he won't let me pass.
I think that a toad
Ought to keep to the grass.
I don't want to cry,
But I'm afraid I'm going to;
Oh, dear me!
What am I to do?
Toad.
Here's a dreadful thing!
A boy in the way;
I don't know what to do,
I don't know what to say.
I can't see the reason
Such monsters should be loose;
I'm trembling all over,
But that is of no use.
Johnny.
I Must go to school,
The bell is going to stop;
That terrible old toad,
If only he would hop.
Toad.
I Must cross the path,
I can hear my children croak;
I hope that dreadful boy
Will not give me a poke.
A hop, and a start, a flutter, and a rush,
Johnny is at school, and the toad in his bush.
I want to go to school,
And he won't let me pass.
I think that a toad
Ought to keep to the grass.
I don't want to cry,
But I'm afraid I'm going to;
Oh, dear me!
What am I to do?
Toad.
Here's a dreadful thing!
A boy in the way;
I don't know what to do,
I don't know what to say.
I can't see the reason
Such monsters should be loose;
I'm trembling all over,
But that is of no use.
Johnny.
I Must go to school,
The bell is going to stop;
That terrible old toad,
If only he would hop.
Toad.
I Must cross the path,
I can hear my children croak;
I hope that dreadful boy
Will not give me a poke.
A hop, and a start, a flutter, and a rush,
Johnny is at school, and the toad in his bush.
 |
Holds a Moss rose, Covered with down. |
 |
Stands for Walnuts, In the woods they are found. |
 |
Is an Orange, So juicy and sweet. |
 |
A Pine-apple, Both are good to eat. |
DOLLY'S CLOTHES.
I want to make your things look nice,
Dolly—because, you see,
To-morrow evening Cousin Jane
Is coming here to tea.
Dolly—because, you see,
To-morrow evening Cousin Jane
Is coming here to tea.
Your muslin skirt is white and stiff—
I'm very glad of that;
But as my little iron's cold,
The tucks will not lie flat.
I'm very glad of that;
But as my little iron's cold,
The tucks will not lie flat.
Jane's doll will come—she makes its clothes
Herself, and very neatly;
And when she brings it visiting,
She dresses it up sweetly.
Herself, and very neatly;
And when she brings it visiting,
She dresses it up sweetly.
When I put on your pretty frock,
Your sash, and sleeve-knots blue,
I really think that you will be
Quite a smart dolly too.
Your sash, and sleeve-knots blue,
I really think that you will be
Quite a smart dolly too.
THE KITTEN.
Wanton droll, whose harmless play
Beguiles the rustic's closing day,
When drawn the evening fire about,
Sit aged crone and thoughtless lout;
Come, show thy tricks and sportive graces,
Thus circled round with merry faces.
Backward coiled, and crouching low,
With glaring eyeballs watch thy foe.
The house wife's, spindle whirling round,
Or thread, or straw, that on the ground
Its shadow throws, by urchin sly,
Held out to lure thy roving eye.
Then, onward stealing, fiercely spring
Upon the futile, faithless thing.
Now, wheeling round with bootless skill,
Thy bo-peep tail provokes thee still,
As oft beyond thy curving side
Its jetty tip is seen to glide.
Whence hast thou, then, thou witless puss,
The magic power to charm us thus?
Is it that in thy glaring eye,
And rapid movements we descry—
While we at ease, secure from ill,
The chimney corner snugly fill.
Beguiles the rustic's closing day,
When drawn the evening fire about,
Sit aged crone and thoughtless lout;
Come, show thy tricks and sportive graces,
Thus circled round with merry faces.
Backward coiled, and crouching low,
With glaring eyeballs watch thy foe.
The house wife's, spindle whirling round,
Or thread, or straw, that on the ground
Its shadow throws, by urchin sly,
Held out to lure thy roving eye.
Then, onward stealing, fiercely spring
Upon the futile, faithless thing.
Now, wheeling round with bootless skill,
Thy bo-peep tail provokes thee still,
As oft beyond thy curving side
Its jetty tip is seen to glide.
Whence hast thou, then, thou witless puss,
The magic power to charm us thus?
Is it that in thy glaring eye,
And rapid movements we descry—
While we at ease, secure from ill,
The chimney corner snugly fill.
 |
Quinces when ripe, Have an excellent flavor. |