Chapter 9 THE PALACE PLAYTIME

Follow Me!

Children go

To and fro,

In a merry, pretty row,

Footsteps light,

Faces bright;

'Tis a happy sight,

Swiftly turning round and round,

Never look upon the ground;

Follow me,

Full of glee,

Singing merrily.

Work is done,

Play's begun;

Now we have our laugh and fun;

Happy days,

Pretty plays,

And no naughty ways.

Holding fast each other's hand,

We're a happy little band;

Follow me,

Full of glee,

Singing merrily.

Birds are free;

So are we;

And we live as happily.

Work we do,

Study too,

For we learn "Twice two";

Then we laugh, and dance, and sing,

Gay as larks upon the wing;

Follow me,

Full of glee,

Singing merrily.

Eliza Lee Follen.

The Baby's Birthday

Come, Charles, blow the trumpet,

And George, beat the drum,

For this is the baby's birthday!

Little Annie shall sing,

And Jemmy shall dance,

And father the jews-harp will play.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te

Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Come toss up the ball,

And spin the hum top;

We'll have a grand frolic to-day;

Let's make some soap bubbles,

And blow them up high,

And see what the baby will say.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te

Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

We'll play the grand Mufti;

Let's all make a ring;

The tallest the Mufti shall play;

You must look in his face,

And see what he does,

And mind what the Mufti shall say.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te

Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

And now we'll play soldiers;

All hold up your heads!

Don't you know 'tis the baby's birthday?

You must turn out your toes,

And toss your feet high;

There! this, boys and girls, is the way.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te

Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Eliza Lee Follen.

Counting Out

Intery, mintery, cutery-corn,

Apple seed and apple thorn;

Wire, brier, limber-lock,

Five geese in a flock,

Sit and sing by a spring,

O-u-t, and in again.

A Tea-Party

You see, merry Phillis, that dear little maid,

Has invited Belinda to tea;

Her nice little garden is shaded by trees,-

What pleasanter place could there be?

There's a cake full of plums, there are strawberries too,

And the table is set on the green;

I'm fond of a carpet all daisies and grass,-

Could a prettier picture be seen?

A blackbird (yes, blackbirds delight in warm weather,)

Is flitting from yonder high spray;

He sees the two little ones talking together,-

No wonder the blackbird is gay.

Kate Greenaway.

Around the World

In go-cart so tiny

My sister I drew;

And I've promised to draw her

The wide world through.

We have not yet started-

I own it with sorrow-

Because our trip's always

Put off till to-morrow.

Kate Greenaway.

My Ship and I[1]

O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship,

Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond;

And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about;

But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out

How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.

For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the helm,

And the dolly I intend to come alive;

And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I shall go,

It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow

And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive.

O it's then you'll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds,

And you'll hear the water singing at the prow;

For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage and explore,

To land upon the island where no dolly was before,

And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

[1] From "Poems and Ballads," copyright, 1895, 1896, by Chas. Scribner's Sons.

The Feast of the Doll

In flow'ry Japan, the home of the fan,

The land of the parasol,

Each month has its feast, from greatest to least,

And March is the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,

And March is the Feast of the Doll.

The wee, slippered maid in gown of brocade,

The baby with shaven poll,

The little brown lad in embroidery clad,

All troop to the Feast of the Doll-doll-doll,

All troop to the Feast of the Doll.

How pleasant 'twould be, 'neath an almond-tree,

In sunshine and perfume to loll,

Forget our own spring, with its wind and its sting,

And sing to the praise of the Doll-doll-doll,

And sing to the praise of the Doll.

Come, sweet Tippytoes, as pink as a rose,

And white as a cotton-boll;

Let us follow the plan of the folk in Japan,

And dance for your Feast, little Doll-doll-doll,

And dance for your Feast, little Doll.

Nora Archibald Smith.

Cuddle Down, Dolly

They sent me to bed, dear, so dreadfully early,

I hadn't a moment to talk to my girlie;

But while Nurse is getting her dinner downstairs,

I'll rock you a little and hear you your prayers.

Cuddle down, dolly,

Cuddle down, dear!

Here on my shoulder you've nothing to fear.

That's what Mamma sings to me every night,

Cuddle down, dolly dear, shut your eyes tight!

Not comfor'ble dolly?-or why do you fidget?

You're hurting my shoulder, you troublesome midget!

Perhaps it's that hole that you told me about.

Why, darling, your sawdust is trick-ker-ling out!!

We'll call the good doctor in, right straight away;

This can't be neglected a single more day;

I'll wet my new hankchif and tie it round tight,

'Twill keep you from suffering pains in the night.

I hope you've been good, little dolly, to-day,

Not cross to your nursie, nor rude in your play;

Nor dabbled your feet in those puddles of water

The way you did yesterday, bad little daughter!

* * *

Oh, dear! I'm so sleepy-can't hold up my head,

I'll sing one more verse, then I'll creep into bed.

Cuddle down, dolly,

Here on my arm,

Nothing shall frighten you, nothing shall harm.

Cuddle down sweetly, my little pink rose,

Good angels come now and guard thy repose.

Kate Douglas Wiggin.

Playgrounds

In summer I am very glad

We children are so small,

For we can see a thousand things

That men can't see at all.

They don't know much about the moss

And all the stones they pass:

They never lie and play among

The forests in the grass:

They walk about a long way off;

And, when we're at the sea,

Let father stoop as best he can

He can't find things like me.

But, when the snow is on the ground

And all the puddles freeze,

I wish that I were very tall,

High up above the trees.

Laurence Alma Tadema.

Keeping Store

We have bags and bags of whitest down

Out of the milk-weed pods;

We have purple asters in lovely heaps,

And stacks of golden-rods-

We have needles out of the sweet pine woods,

And spools of cobweb thread;

We have bachelors' buttons for dolly's dress,

And hollyhock caps for her head.

Mary F. Butts.

One and One[2]

Two little girls are better than one

Two little boys can double the fun,

Two little birds can build a fine nest,

Two little arms can love mother best.

Two little ponies must go to a span;

Two little pockets has my little man;

Two little eyes to open and close,

Two little ears and one little nose,

Two little elbows, dimpled and sweet,

Two little shoes on two little feet,

Two little lips and one little chin,

Two little cheeks with a rose shut in;

Two little shoulders, chubby and strong,

Two little legs running all day long.

Two little prayers does my darling say,

Twice does he kneel by my side each day,-

Two little folded hands, soft and brown,

Two little eyelids cast meekly down,-

And two little angels guard him in bed,

"One at the foot, and one at the head."

Mary Mapes Dodge.

[2] From "Rhymes and Jingles," copyright, 1874, 1904, by Chas. Scribner's Sons.

A Happy Child

My house is red-a little house,

A happy child am I,

I laugh and play the livelong day,

I hardly ever cry.

I have a tree, a green, green tree,

To shade me from the sun;

And under it I often sit,

When all my work is done.

My little basket I will take,

And trip into the town;

When next I'm there I'll buy some cake,

And spend my bright half-crown.

Kate Greenaway.

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