With APRIL 21ST. She made apple-pies, And she made them so tart That the mouths of the children Who ate them would smart; And then she went peddling About in a cat. APRIL 22D. Pretty kit, little kit, Oh, you're a lovely pet! your sleek coat and your white throat, And toes as black as jet. APRIL 23D. Our darling May with her flaxen curls And her wistful eyes so shy and brown, Is one of the prettiest little girls You will meet in a ramble over town I wish and I wish that the spring would go faster, Nor long summer bide so late; And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster, For some things are ill to wait. APRIL 25TH. Am I a torment, mamma? Bridget called me that, 'Cause I mixed the sand-pies In my Sunday hat. APRIL 26TH. A little bird on a little tree, Is singing a little song; While a little sock for my little boy You may hunt the full moon and the stars if you please, But you never will find ten such chickens as these." APRIL 28TH. "And where are you going, my Mary, And where are you going to-day?" "I'm going to look for a dandelion In the grass-plot over the way." APRIL 29TH. Up in my hand, or down on the ground, Isn't top spinning a wonderful sight? |