And how do you get to Toy-land?
To all little people the joy-land.
Just follow your nose,
And go on tip-toes:
It's only a minute to Toy-land.

And oh! but it's gay in Toy-land,—
This bright, merry girl-and-boy-land;
And woolly dogs white
That never will bite
You'll meet on the highways in Toy-land.

Society's fine in Toy-land;
The dollies all think it a joy-land;
And folks in the ark
Stay out after dark;
And tin soldiers regulate Toy-land.

There's fun all the year in Toy-land:
To sorrow 'twas ever a coy-land;
And steamboats are run,
And steam-cars, for fun:
They're wound up with keys down in Toy-land.

Bold jumping-jacks thrive in Toy-land;
Fine castles adorn this joy-land;
And bright are the dreams,
And sunny the beams,
That gladden the faces in Toy-land.

How long do we live in Toy-land?—
This bright, merry girl-and-boy-land;
A few days, at best,
We stay as a guest,
Then good-by forever to Toy-land!

Down in the pond, where willows grow
Along the shore in a golden row,
Is a single rock with its mossy ridge,
And a log as mossy, resting there
Half in the water, and half in the air,
From shore to islet a beautiful bridge;
And the lily-pads on either side
Might tempt the little green frogs to ride;
And the lily-blooms, so purely made,
Do tempt the little white feet to wade.

What do you think I saw one day
In the month of June, as I passed that way?
Five little turtles, all in a row,
On the top of the log,—a funny show,—
For they carried their houses on their backs,
And tucked their toes out through the cracks
Under the eaves! while their heads and tails
Played hide-and-seek behind the scales.

They had golden dots on every shell;
And they stood so still, and "dressed" so well,
You might think they were called up to spell;
And a "master" turtle, big and brown,
On the top of the rock sat looking down
In a learned way, as you might say
To "put out words,"—and perhaps 'twas so,
Though I heard no word,—but this, I know,
The five little heads looked so very wise
With their little bead eyes, they must have heard
If ever the master pronounced a word.

In school or not, it was getting hot;
And by and by, as the sun rose high,
With the June-like drowsiness it sheds,
They could not keep from going to sleep;
And what do you think they did with their heads?
Swallowed them! Oh, then, laugh, if you will;
But true it is, still:
Into their necks, as a sailor would slide
His spy-glass into its leathern hide,
They slid their five little heads away
From the sight of man and the light of day.

While I stood watching them, still as a mouse,
Pleased at their comical way to keep house,
I heard a terrible splash and croak,
As a great bull-frog leapt up on the log,
In a way to frighten such simple folk.
Five little turtles, quick as a wink,
Into the water slip and sink;
And one big turtle, just as quick,
Off from the log goes down like a brick.

Ah, well! my turtles are not like boys,
They can live in the pond, and they do hate noise!