EVER SYSTEM VERY night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I've been good, I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and neat, With lots of toys and things to eat, He is a naughty child, I'm sureOr else his dear papa is poor. THE SUN'S TRAVELS 'HE sun is not abed, when I THE At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he takes, And morning after morning makes. While here at home, in shining day, And when at eve I rise from tea, MY BED IS A BOAT Μ' Y bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor's coat And starts me in the dark. At night, I go on board and say Good-night to all my friends on shore; I shut my eyes and sail away, And sometimes things to bed I take, All night across the dark we steer; L བ FOREIGN CHILDREN ITTLE Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don't you wish that you were me? You have seen the scarlet trees You have eaten ostrich eggs, And turned the turtles off their legs. Such a life is very fine, But it's not so nice as mine: Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don't you wish that you were me! CH GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN HILDREN, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; you would grow great and stately, You must try to walk sedately. If You must still be bright and quiet, And remain, through all bewild'ring, Happy hearts and happy faces, But the unkind and the unruly, Cruel children, crying babies, By their nephews and their nieces. MY SHIP AND I OH, 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. Oh, 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. & PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER UMMER fading, winter comes— Water now is turned to stone All the pretty things put by Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, |