You little girl,

You little boy,

With wondering eyes,

That kindly look,

In honour of

Two noble names

I send the offering

Of this book.

Oh, Susan Blue,

How do you do?

Please may I go for a walk with you?

Where shall we go?

Oh, I know—

Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow!

Little Blue Shoes

Mustn't go

Very far alone, you know

Else she'll fall down,

Or, lose her way;

Fancy—what

Would mamma say?

Better put her little hand

Under sister's wise command.

When she's a little older grown

Blue Shoes may go quite alone.

Puff, puff, puff. How the trumpets blow

All you little boys and girls come and see the show.

One—two—three, the Cat runs up the tree;

But the little Bird he flies away—

"She hasn't got me!"

They saw it rise in the morning,

They saw it set at night,

And they longed to go and see it,

Ah! if they only might.

The little soft white clouds heard them,

And stepped from out of the blue;

And each laid a little child softly

Upon its bosom of dew.

And they carried them higher and higher,

And they nothing knew any more

Until they were standing waiting

In front of the round gold door.

And they knocked, and called, and entreated,

Whoever should be within;

But all to no purpose, for no one

Would hearken to let them in.

You very fine Miss Molly,

What will the daisies say,

If you carry home so many

Of their little friends to-day?

Perhaps you take a sister,

Perhaps you take a brother,

Or two little daisies who

Were fond of one another.

Pray let me introduce you to

This little dancing family;

For morning, afternoon, and night

They danced away so happily.

They twirled round about,

They turned their toes

And every sort of dance they knew,

From every country far away;

And so it was no wonder that

They should keep dancing all the day.

So dancing—dancing—dancing,

In sunshine or in rain;

And when they all left off,

Why then—they all began again.

Little Molly and Damon

Are walking so far,

For they're going to see

Their kind Grandmamma.

And they very well know,

When they get there she'll take

From out of her cupboard

Some very nice cake.

And into her garden

They know they may run,

And pick some red currants,

And have lots of fun.

So Damon to doggie

Says, "How do you do?"

And asks his mamma

If he may not go too.

Oh, if you were a little boy,

And I was a little girl—

Why you would have some whiskers grow

And then my hair would curl.

Ah! if I could have whiskers grow,

I'd let you have my curls;

But what's the use of wishing it—

Boys never can be girls.

It is a Party, do you know,

And there they sit, all in a row,

Waiting till the others come,

To begin to have some fun.

Hark! the bell rings sharp and clear,

Other little friends appear;

And no longer all alone

They begin to feel at home.

To them a little hard is Fate,

Yet better early than too late;

Fancy getting there forlorn,

With the tea and cake all gone.

Wonder what they'll have for tea;

Hope the jam is strawberry.

Wonder what the dance and game;

Feel so very glad they came.

Very Happy may you be,

May you much enjoy your tea.

When we went out with Grandmamma—

Mamma said for a treat—

Oh, dear, how stiff we had to walk

As we went down the street.

One on each side we had to go,

And never laugh or loll;

I carried Prim, her Spaniard dog,

And Tom—her parasol.

If I looked right—if Tom looked left—

"Tom—Susan—I'm ashamed;

And little Prim, I'm sure, is shocked,

To hear such naughties named."

She said we had no manners,

If we ever talked or sung;

"You should have seen," said Grandmamma,

"Me walk, when I was young."

She told us—oh, so often—

How little girls and boys,

In the good days when she was young,

Never made any noise.

She said they never wished then

To play—oh, indeed!

They learnt to sew and needlework,

Or else to write and read.

She said her mother never let

Her speak a word at meals;

"But now," said Grandmamma, "you'd think

That children's tongues had wheels

"So fast they go—clack, clack, clack, clack;

Now listen well, I pray,

And let me see you both improve

From what I've said to-day."

Oh, dear, how will it end?

Peggy and Susie how naughty you are.

Oh, dear, I'm sure it is true;

Whatever on earth can it matter to you?

For you know it—oh, fie—

That it's naughty to pry

Into other's affairs—

Into other folks houses to go,

Where you know

You're not asked.

So you'd better come back

While there's time, it is plain.

Go home—and be never

So naughty again.

Oh who'll give us Posies,

And Garlands of Roses,

To twine round our heads so gay?

For here we come bringing

You many good wishes to-day.

From market—from market—from market—

We all come up from market.

I am a very little girl,

I think that I've turned two;

And if you'd like to know my name

I'd like to tell it you.

They always call me Baby,

But Phillis is my name.

No—no one ever gave it me,

I think it only came.

I've got a pretty tulip

In my little flower-bed;

If you would like I'll give it you—

It's yellow, striped with red.

I've got a little kitten, but

I can't give that away,

She likes to play with me so much;

She's gone to sleep to-day.

And I've got a nice new dolly,

Shall I fetch her out to you?

She's got such pretty shoes on,

And her bonnet's trimmed with blue.

You'd like to take her home with you?

Oh, no, she mustn't go;

Good-bye—I want to run now,

You walk along so slow.

Four Princesses lived in a Green Tower—

A Bright Green Tower in the middle of the sea;

And no one could think—oh, no one could think—

Who the Four Princesses could be.

One looked to the North, and one to the South,

And one to the East, and one to the West;

They were all so pretty, so very pretty,

You could not tell which was the prettiest.

Their curls were golden—their eyes were blue,

And their voices were sweet as a silvery bell;

And four white birds around them flew,

But where they came from—who could tell?

Oh, who could tell? for no one knew,

And not a word could you hear them say.

But the sound of their singing, like church bells ringing,

Would sweetly float as they passed away.

For under the sun, and under the stars,

They often sailed on the distant sea;

Then in their Green Tower and Roses bower

They lived again—a mystery.

When you and I

Grow up—Polly—

I mean that you and me,

Shall go sailing in a big ship

Right over all the sea.

We'll wait till we are older,

For if we went to-day,

You know that we might lose ourselves,

And never find the way.

In September, when the apples were red,

To Belinda I said,

"Would you like to go away

To Heaven, or stay

Here in this orchard full of trees

All your life?" And she said, "If you please

I'll stay here—where I know,

And the flowers grow."

The Wedding Bells were ringing,

And Monday was the day,

And all the little ladies

Were there so fresh and gay.

And up—up—up the steps they went,

The wedding fine to see;

And the Roses were all for the Bride,

So pretty—so pretty was she.

In my little Green House, quite content am I,

When the hot sun pours down from the sky;

For oh, I love the country—the beautiful country.

Who'd live in a London street when there's the country?

I live in a London street, then I long and long

To be the whole day the sweet Flowers among

Instead of tall chimney-pots up in the sky,

The joy of seeing Birds and Dragon Flies go by.

At home I lie in bed, and cannot go to sleep,

For the sound of cart-wheels upon the hard street.

But here my eyes close up to no sound of anything

Except it is to hear the nightingales sing.

And then I see the Chickens and the Geese go walking,

I hear the Pigs and the Ducks all talking.

And the Red and the Spotted Cows they stare at me,

As if they wondered whoever I could be.

I see the little Lambs out with their mothers—

Such pretty little white young sisters and brothers.

Oh, I'll stay in the country, and make a daisy chain,

And never go back to London again.

Oh, what shall my blue eyes go see?

Shall it be pretty Quack-Quack to-day?

Or the Peacock upon the Yew Tree?

Or the dear little white Lambs at play?

Say Baby.

For Baby is such a young Petsy,

And Baby is such a sweet Dear.

And Baby is growing quite old now—

She's just getting on for a year.

Willy said to his sister,

"Please may I go with you?"

She said, "You must behave

Very nicely if you do."

"Please will you take me then

To look at the mill?"

"Yes," she said, "because you are

So very good—I will."

"The miller he is

So very white and kind;

And sprinkled all over

With the flour they grind.

"And the big heaps of corn

That lie upon the floor;

He will let me play with those

I am quite sure.

"I like to hear the wheel

Make such a rushing sound,

And see the pretty water

Go round, and round, and round.

"So take me to the mill,

For then you shall see

What a very, very good boy

I really mean to be."

Five little Girls, sitting on a form,

Five little Girls, with lessons to learn,

Five little Girls, who, I'm afraid,

Won't know them a bit when they have to be said.

For little eyes are given to look

Anywhere else than on their book;

And little thoughts are given to stray

Anywhere—ever so far away.

"Are you going next week to see Phillis and Phoebe?

Phillis on Monday will be just fourteen.

She says we shall all have our tea in the garden,

And afterwards have some nice games on the green.

"I wanted a new frock, but mother said, 'No,'

So I must be content with my old one you see.

But then white is so pretty, and kind Aunt Matilda

Has sent down a beautiful necklace for me."

"Oh, yes, I am going, and Peggy is going,

And mother is making us new frocks to wear;

I shall have my red sash and my hat with pink ribbons—

I know all the girls will be smart who are there.

"And then, too, we're going to each take a nosegay—

The larger the better—for Phillis to say

That all her friends love her, and wish her so happy,

And bring her sweet flowers upon her birthday.

"And won't it be lovely, in beautiful sunshine,

The table spread under the great apple tree,

To see little Phillis—that dear little Phillis—

Look smiling all round as she pours out the tea!"

With Roses—red Roses,

We'll pelt her with Roses,

And Lilies—white Lilies we'll drop at her feet;

The little Queen's coming,

The people are running—

The people are running to greet and to meet.

Then clash out a welcome,

Let all the bells sound, come,

To give her a welcoming proud and sweet.

How her blue eyes will beam,

And her golden curls gleam,

When the sound of our singing rings down the street.

Dancing and prancing to town we go,

On the top of the wall of the town we go.

Shall we talk to the stars, or talk to the moon,

Or run along home to our dinner so soon?