A Little Freckled Person Part 2

THE MOUNTAINS

The mountains do not stir, or show Emotion when Spring comes, I know; But though they are restrained by pride, I think that they are glad inside!

WHEN DOLLY IS AFRAID

When lights are standing in the street; And on the sidewalk all the feet Are quiet, and it's growing late, And our brown clock is striking eight:

I pack the animals and ark, And push them deep into the dark; And in a quiet row I lay My cups and saucers 'til the day.

But who could ever say Good-night And leave her doll in such a plight?

I couldn't let her stay without A friend, and hear the dark about!

So she and I go straight upstairs; She shuts her eyes while we say prayers, And then we lie and count up sheep Until we both are fast asleep.

It's not because I dread, at all, The darkness, that I keep my doll, But just because I think that she Would be _so_ frightened without _me_!

TREE-CHILDREN

The little trees that to the breeze Make quaint and timorous courtesies: I like to come and play with these.

Each grown-up pine that stands in line Is but a stranger great and fine-- The _little_ trees are friends of mine!

THE c.o.c.kATOO

Green and yellow c.o.c.katoo, Won't you let me talk to you?

Or if you would kinder be Won't you come and talk to me?

Tell me all about the places Where the children have black faces, Armlets, anklets, copper rings!

Where the cannibals are kings!

Has a hungry crocodile Ever met you with a smile?

Have you taken many a trip In a rakish pirate s.h.i.+p?

c.o.c.katoo, c.o.c.katoo, How I'd like to talk to you!

But as you can guess, I'd be Gladder if you'd talk to me!

HIGH COST OF LIVING

Among the angels--it's a shame To tell it--prices are so dear, They use the blown-out candle-flame To mend the ragged stars, this year!

NEED

I like the kitten of my friends, I like its claws caught in my lace, I like the way each small ear ends, I like the black upon its face.

I feel its heart beat in my hand, And then I somehow understand So many things I didn't know: I'm kinder, and my voice is low; And I close doors more softly, too, And do the things I'm told to do, Instead of wis.h.i.+ng they were done.

--But mother says we mayn't have one.

I want a kitten all my own To play with when I'm left alone, And when the family's gone away To shop, and work, and call, and play Tennis and other things. It's all So queer and lonely in the hall And in the parlor, too, and in The sitting-room, where words have been But are not now. The chairs and I Wait through the hours, till by-and-by, Our only playmates little fears-- There's room in all our lives, I think, For one small kitten, black as ink With two white spots behind its ears.

[Ill.u.s.tration: I LIKE THE KITTEN OF MY FRIENDS]

SKY-COLOR

Blue skies are very apt to fade; Dark colors wear the best, it's true-- But who would choose a useful shade?

I want mine blue!

LEFT OUT

If shoemakers' children are left with feet bare I've wondered and wondered (I don't think it's fair) If maybe at Christmas there aren't any toys Left over for Santa Claus' own girls and boys!

THE WHITE BIRCH

A white birch grows In the deepest wood.

If you are good And the stars are right --Who knows?-- You may see, some night, The nymphs stand under The sea-green heave Of its boughs, in a row.

--But if you wonder, They will fade and go.