PREFACE.

TO THE YOUNG CHILDREN OF AMERICA:

Dear Boys and Girls,—It is many and many a year ago since I was born, in a little kingdom far over the sea. In that little kingdom so far away, and in those days so long ago, boys and girls had not privileges and opportunities such as you enjoy. There were no common schools, no first, second and third readers; and hundreds and thousands of boys and girls had to go to work when they ought to have been at school. When I was eleven years old I went to work, and worked from seven o'clock in the morning to seven o'clock in the

evening for sixty cents a week. And in those days books were very scarce indeed. You could not have bought such a book as 'Chatterbox" for a thousand dollars, when I was a boy, because there were no such books made for children. Most of the boys and girls of that little kingdom grew up without any education except such as was given them at the Sunday school. Very few, indeed, could read or write well. But God was good to me, and gave me a mother who was as wise as she was good and beautiful. One of her greatest desires was that her boys should have cultivated minds and generous hearts. And so, blessed with more than common mental ability, she became the teacher of her children. My earliest recollections are of sitting by the fire, reading the New Testament to my mother while she was busy about her household cares. I keep that old copy of the Gospels, and though it is worn and thumbed, and covered with rough brown paper, I regard it as one of my most sacred treasures.

Well, as time went on I became very fond of reading, and then of reciting, and soon I was sent for by friends and neighbors to speak some little piece at weddings and merry-makings. I was generally 13

placed upon a chair, and sometimes I stood upon the table, and making a bow to my audience, would say: "I'm half a rogue and half a rascal, my name is Tommy, and if you will listen to me I shall be glad." Then I would speak my piece; and from that day to this, though my hair has grown gray, I have always found great delight in reciting, and especially to young people. But where to get suitable pieces has always been a difficulty. I have often walked miles when a boy, for some little poem, and many hours have I spent rumaging through old books and magazines, from which I copied hundreds of little recitations. Whenever my friends found a suitable piece they would be sure to copy it and send it to “Tommy." So in the course of years I gathered many hundreds of poems and stories and sketches. Not long ago Mr. Harrison, the enterprising publisher, of Chicago, came to me and said he wanted a "Speaker " for very young children, so I set to work and went all through my large store of library treasures, and found so many good things that I concluded it was best to make two Speakers, this one first, for very young children, composed almost entirely of little poems. The pieces in this First Speaker are simple, serious, quaint and pleasant; and all so short, that very little children may easily learn them with a little perseverence. I have arranged the index, beginning on page 9, so that you can easily find a piece specially suitable for a little boy or little girl. My Second Speaker contains speeches and sketches, as well as poems suitable for children a little older. Here there are about two hundred and fifty little pieces that I am sure will be found both charming and instructive. I advise you to learn what you learn thoroughly before you try to recite. And I only hope, dear boys and girls, you will have as much pleasure in studying this book and speaking these pieces as I have had in preparing it for you.

Your affectionate friend,

TOMMY.

TOMMY'S FIRST SPEAKER.

HOW THE BABIES GROW.

Baby wee, baby wee!

What does little baby see?

All among her pillows lying,
Never fretful, never crying;

Caper and crow, caper and crow!
That's the way that babies grow!

Baby fair, baby fair!

Rosy cheeks and curly hair,
All among her pillows playing,
Little chubby hands displaying;
Caper and crow, caper and crow!
That's the way that babies grow!

JENNIE CARRoll.

"I CANT" AND "I CAN."

"I Can't" is a sluggard, too lazy to work;
From duty he shrinks, every task he will shirk;
No bread on his board, and no meal in his bag,
His house is a ruin, his coat is a rag.

"I Can" is a worker; he tills the broad fields,

And digs from the earth all the wealth that it yields;
The hum of his spindles begins with the light,
And the fires of his forges are blazing all night.
WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER,

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