Verses for Children Part 6

Never more shall the broken water-wheel Grind the corn to make the meal, To make the children's bread.

The miller was dead.

When the setting sun Looked to see what the Mill Stream had done In its hour Of unlimited power, And what was left when that had pa.s.sed by, Behold the channel was stony and dry.

In uttermost ruin The Mill Stream had been its own undoing.

Furthermore it had drowned its friend: This was the end.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

BOY AND SQUIRREL.

Oh boy, down there, I can't believe that what they say is true!

We squirrels surely cannot have an enemy in you; We have so much in common, my dear friend, it seems to me That I can really feel for you, and you can feel for me.

Some human beings might not understand the life we lead; If we asked Dr. Birch to play, no doubt he'd rather read; He hates all scrambling restlessness, and chattering, scuffling noise; If he could catch us we should fare no better than you boys.

Fine ladies, too, whose flounces catch and tear on every stump, What joy have they in jagged pines, who neither skip nor jump?

Miss Mittens never saw my tree-top home--so unlike hers; What wonder if her only thought of squirrels is of furs?

But you, dear boy, you know so well the bliss of climbing trees, Of scrambling up and sliding down, and rocking in the breeze, Of cracking nuts and chewing cones, and keeping cunning h.o.a.rds, And all the games and all the sport and fun a wood affords.

It cannot be that you would make a prisoner of me, Who hate yourself to be cooped up, who love so to be free; An extra hour indoors, I know, is punishment to you; _You_ make _me_ twirl a tiny cage? It never can be true!

Yet I've a wary grandfather, whose tail is white as snow.

He thinks he knows a lot of things we young ones do not know; He says we're safe with Doctor Birch, because he is so blind, And that Miss Mittens would not hurt a fly, for she is kind.

But you, dear boy, who know my ways, he bids me fly from you, He says my life and liberty are lost unless I do; That you, who fear the Doctor's cane, will fling big sticks at me, And tear me from my forest home, and from my favourite tree.

The more we think of what he says, the more we're sure it's "chaff,"

We sit beneath the shadow of our bushy tails and laugh; Hey, presto! Friend, come up, and let us hide and seek and play, If you could spring as well as climb, what fun we'd have to-day!

LITTLE MASTER TO HIS BIG DOG.

Oh, how greedy you look as you stare at my plate, Your mouth waters so, and your big tail is drumming Flop! flop! flop! on the carpet, and yet if you'll wait, When we have quite finished, your dinner is coming.

Yes! I know what you mean, though you don't speak a word; You say that you wish that I kindly would let you Take your meals with the family, which is absurd, And on a tall chair like a gentleman set you.

But how little you think, my dear dog, when you talk; You've no "table manners," you bolt meat, you gobble; And how could you eat bones with a knife, spoon, and fork?

You would be in a most inconvenient hobble.

And yet, once on a time it is certainly true, My own manners wanted no little refining; For I gobbled, and spilled, and was greedy like you, And had no idea of good manners when dining.

So that when I consider the tricks _you_ have caught, To sit or shake paws with the utmost good breeding, I must own it quite possible you may be taught The use of a plate, and a nice style of feeding.

Therefore try to learn manners, and eat as I do; Don't glare at the joint, and as soon as you're able To behave like the rest, you shall feed with us too, And dine like a gentleman sitting at table.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

A SWEET LITTLE DEAR

I always _was_ a remarkable child; so old for my age, and such a sensitive nature!--Mamma often says so.

And I'm the sweetest, little dear in my blue ribbons, and quite a picture in my Pompadour hat!--Mrs. Brown told her so on Sunday, and that's how I know.

And I'm a sacred responsibility to my parents--(it was what the clergyman's wife at the seaside said), And a solemn charge, and a fair white page, and a tender bud, and a spotless nature of wax to be moulded;--but the rest of it has gone out of my head.

There was a lot more, and she left two books as well, and I think she called me a Privilege, and Mamma said "Yes," and began to cry.

And Nurse came in with luncheon on a tray, and put away the books, and said she was as weak as a kitten, and worried to fiddlestrings, as any one with common sense could see with half an eye.

I was hopping round the room, but I stopped and said, "My kitten's not weak, and I don't believe anybody could see with only half an eye. Could they, Mamma?"

And Nurse said, "Go and play, my dear, and let your Mamma rest;"

but Mamma said, "No, my love, stay where you are.

Dear Nurse, lift me up, and put a pillow to my back, I know you mean to be kind; But she does ask such remarkable questions, and while I've strength to speak, don't let me check the inquiring mind.

If I should fail to be all a mother ought--oh, how my head throbs when the dear child jumps!" and then Nurse said, "Ugh!

When you're worried into your grave, she'll have no mother at all, and'll have to tumble up as other folks do.

There's the poor master at his wits' end--a child's not all a grown person has to think of--and Miss Jane would do well enough if she'd less of her own way; But there's more children spoilt with care than the want of it, and more mothers murdered than there's folks hanged for, and that's what I say.

Children learns what you teach 'em, and Miss Jane's old enough to have learned to wait upon you: And if her mother thought less of her and she thought more of her mother, it would be better for her too."

But Nurse is a nasty cross old thing--I hate her; and I hate the doctor, for he wanted me to be left behind When Mamma went to the sea for her health; but I begged and begged till she promised I should go, for Mamma is always kind.

And she bought me a new wooden spade and a basket, and a red and green s.h.i.+p with three masts, and a one-and-sixpenny telescope to look at the sea; But when I got on to the sands, I thought I'd rather be on the esplanade, for there was a little girl there who was looking at me, Dressed in a navy-blue suit and a sailor hat, with fair hair tied with ribbons; so I told Mamma, And she got me a suit, ready-made (but she said it was dreadfully dear), and a hat to match, in the Pebble Brooch Repository and Universal Bazaar.

It faded in the sun, and came all to pieces in the wash; but I was tired of it before.

For the esplanade is very dull, and the little girl with fair hair had got sand-boots and a shrimping-net and was playing on the sh.o.r.e.

And when my sand-boots came home, and I'd got a better net than hers, she went donkey-riding, and I knew it was to tease me, But Nurse was so cross, and said if they sent a man in a herring-boat to the moon for what I wanted that nothing would please me.

So I said the seaside was a very disagreeable place, and I wished I hadn't come, And I told Mamma so, and begged her to try and get well soon, to take us all home.

But now we've got home, it's very hot, and I'm afraid of the wasps; and I'm sure it was cooler at the sea, And the Smiths won't be back for a fortnight, so I can't even have Matilda to tea.

I don't care much for my new doll--I think I'm too old for dolls now; I like books better, though I didn't like the last, And I've read all I have: I always skip the dull parts, and when you skip a good deal you get through them so fast.

I like toys if they're the best kind, with works; though when I've had one good game with them, I don't much care to play with them again.

I feel as if I wanted something new to amuse me, and Mamma says it's because I've got such an active brain.

Nurse says I don't know what I want, and I know I don't, and that's just what it is.

It seems so sad a young creature like me should feel unhappy, and not know what's amiss; But Nurse never thinks of my feelings, any more than the cruel nurse in the story about the little girl who was so good, And if I die early as she did, perhaps then people will be sorry I've been misunderstood.

I shouldn't like to die early, but I should like people to be sorry for me, and to praise me when I was dead: If I could only come to life again when they had missed me very much, and I'd heard what they said-- Of course that's impossible, I know, but I wish I knew what to do instead!

It seems such a pity that a sweet little dear like me should ever be sad.

And Mamma says she buys everything I want, and has taught me everything I will learn, and reads every book, and takes every hint she can pick up, and keeps me with her all day, and worries about me all night, till she's nearly mad; And if any kind person can think of any better way to make me happy we shall both of us be glad.

BLUE AND RED: OR, THE DISCONTENTED LOBSTER.

Permit me, Reader, to make my bow, And allow Me to humbly commend to your tender mercies The hero of these simple verses.

By domicile, of the British Nation; By birth and family, a Crustacean.

One's hero should have a name that rare is; And his was _Homarus_, but--_Vulgaris!_ A Lobster, who dwelt with several others,-- His sisters and brothers,-- In a secluded but happy home, Under the salt sea's foam.