Chapter IV: Part 4

So when you hear the sandman's song
Sound through the twilight sweet,
Be sure you do not keep him long
A-waiting on the street.
Lie softly down, dear little head,
Rest quiet, busy hands,
Till, by your bed his good-night said,
He strews the shining sands.
Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes, and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he
goes through the town.
_Margaret Vandegrift._

RED RIDING-HOOD

On the wide lawn the snow lay deep, Ridged o'er with many a drifted heap; The wind that through the pine-trees sung The naked elm-boughs tossed and swung; While, through the window, frosty-starred, Against the sunset purple barred, We saw the sombre crow flap by, The hawk's gray fleck along the sky,

The crested blue-jay flitting swift, The squirrel poising on the drift, Erect, alert, his broad gray tail Set to the north wind like a sail. It came to pass, our little lass, With flattened face against the glass, And eyes in which the tender dew Of pity shone, stood gazing through The narrow space her rosy lips Had melted from the frost's eclipse: "Oh, see," she cried, "the poor blue-jays! What is it that the black crow says? The squirrel lifts his little legs Because he has no hands, and begs; He's asking for my nuts, I know; May I not feed them on the snow?"

Half lost within her boots, her head Warm-sheltered in her hood of red, Her plaid skirt close about her drawn, She floundered down the wintry lawn; Now struggling through the misty veil Blown round her by the shrieking gale; Now sinking in a drift so low Her scarlet hood could scarcely show Its dash of color on the snow.

She dropped for bird and beast forlorn Her little store of nuts and corn, And thus her timid guests bespoke: "Come, squirrel, from your hollow oak,-- Come, black old crow,--come, poor blue-jay, Before your supper's blown away! Don't be afraid, we all are good; And I'm mamma's Red Riding-Hood!"

O Thou whose care is over all, Who heedest even the sparrow's fall, Keep in the little maiden's breast The pity which is now its guest! Let not her cultured years make less The childhood charm of tenderness, But let her feel as well as know, Nor harder with her polish grow! Unmoved by sentimental grief That wails along some printed leaf, But prompt with kindly word and deed To own the claims of all who need, Let the grown woman's self make good The promise of Red Riding-Hood! _John G. Whittier._

THE SONG SPARROW

There is a bird I know so well, It seems as if he must have sung Beside my crib when I was young; Before I knew the way to spell The name of even the smallest bird, His gentle, joyful song I heard. Now see if you can tell, my dear, What bird it is, that every year, Sings "Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."

He comes in March, when winds are strong, And snow returns to hide the earth; But still he warms his head with mirth, And waits for May. He lingers long While flowers fade, and every day Repeats his sweet, contented lay; As if to say we need not fear The season's change, if love is here, With "Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."

He does not wear a Joseph's coat
Of many colors, smart and gay;
His suit is Quaker brown and gray,
With darker patches at his throat.
And yet of all the well-dressed throng,
Not one can sing so brave a song.
It makes the pride of looks appear
A vain and foolish thing to hear
His "Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."
_Henry van Dyke._

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white;
The violets and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing;
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky;
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.
_Thomas Hood._

TALKING IN THEIR SLEEP

"You think I am dead,"
The apple tree said,
"Because I have never a leaf to show--
Because I stoop,
And my branches droop,
And the dull gray mosses over me grow!
But I'm still alive in trunk and shoot;
The buds of next May
I fold away--
But I pity the withered grass at my root."

"You think I am dead,"
The quick grass said,
"Because I have parted with stem and blade!
But under the ground
I am safe and sound
With the snow's thick blanket over me laid.
I'm all alive, and ready to shoot,
Should the spring of the year
Come dancing here--
But I pity the flower without branch or root."
"You think I am dead,"
A soft voice said,
"Because not a branch or root I own.
I never have died,
But close I hide
In a plumy seed that the wind has sown.
Patient I wait through the long winter hours;
You will see me again--
I shall laugh at you then,
Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers."
_Edith M. Thomas._

LITTLE DANDELION

Little bud Dandelion
Hears from her nest,
"Merry heart, starry eye,
Wake from your rest!"
Wide ope the emerald lids;
Robin's above;
Wise little Dandelion
Smiles at his love.

Cold lie the daisy-banks,
Clad but in green,
Where in the Mays agone
Bright hues were seen.
Wild pinks are slumbering,
Violets delay--
True little Dandelion
Greeteth the May.

Meek little Dandelion
Groweth more fair,
Till dries the amber dew
Out from her hair.
High rides the thirsty sun,
Fiercely and high,--
Faint little Dandelion
Closeth her eye.

Dead little Dandelion,
In her white shroud,
Heareth the angel-breeze
Call from the cloud.
Tiny plumes fluttering
Make no delay,
Little winged Dandelion
Soareth away.
_Helen L. Bostwick._

* * * * * * * * * *

INDEX OF TITLES

Afternoon in February _Henry W. Longfellow_ Ant and the Cricket, The _Anonymous_ April Day, An _Henry W. Longfellow_ April Welcome, An _Phoebe Cary_ Autumn _Alice Cary_ Autumn Fires _Robert Louis Stevenson_

Ballad of the Tempest, The _James T. Fields_ Birds in Summer _Mary Howitt_ Bluebird, The _Emily Huntington Miller_ Blue Jay, The _Susan Hartley Swett_ "Bob White" _George Cooper_ Brook-Song, The _James Whitcomb Riley_ Brown Thrush, The _Lucy Larcom_ Busy Day, A _Anonymous_

Calling the Violet _Lucy Larcom_ Camel's Hump, The _Rudyard Kipling_ Captain's Daughter, The (See "Ballad of the Tempest") Chestnut Burr, The _Anonymous_ Child's Prayer, A _Matilda B. Edwards_ Child's Thought of God, A _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_ Choosing a Name _Mary Lamb_ Christmas _Nahum Tate_ Christmas Carol, A _J.G. Holland_

Daisies, The _Bliss Carman_ Dandelion _Kate L. Brown_ Dandelions, The _Helen Gray Cone_ Day, A _Emily Dickinson_ Daybreak _Henry W. Longfellow_ Don't Kill the Birds _J. Colesworthy_ Dove, The _John Keats_ "Down to Sleep" _Helen Hunt Jackson_

Emperor's Bird's Nest, The _Henry W. Longfellow_

Fable, A _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ Fairies of the Caldon Low, The _Mary Howitt_ Fairy Queen, The _Anonymous_ Fairy Song _John Keats_ Fairy Tale, A _Helen Gray Cone_ Farewell, A _Charles Kingsley_ Fern Song, The _John Bannister Tabb_ Fir-Tree, The _Josephine Preston Peabody_ Fraidie-Cat _Clinton Scollard_

Grass, The _Emily Dickinson_

Hail, Columbia! _Joseph Hopkinson_ Hiawatha's Fishing _Henry W. Longfellow_ Hiawatha's Friends _Henry W. Longfellow_ Hiawatha's Hunting _Henry W. Longfellow_ Hiawatha's Sailing _Henry W. Longfellow_ How the Leaves Came Down _Susan Coolidge_ Hunting Song _Samuel T. Coleridge_

I Remember, I Remember _Thomas Hood_

Jack Frost _Gabriel Setoun_ Jack Frost _Hannah F. Gould_ Jack in the Pulpit _Clara Smith_ Jumblies, The _Edward Lear_

King Solomon and the Bees _John G. Saxe_ Kriss Kringle _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_

Land of Dreams, The _William Blake_ Land of Story-Books, The _Robert Louis Stevenson_ Laughing Chorus, A _Anonymous_ Laughing Song, A _William Blake_ Lesson of Mercy, A _Alice Cary_ Life Lesson, A _James Whitcomb Riley_ Little by Little _Anonymous_ Little Dandelion _Helen L. Bostwick_ Little Gottlieb _Phoebe Cary_ Little Ladybird, The _Caroline B. Southey_ Little Orphant Annie _James Whitcomb Riley_ Lobster Quadrille, A _Lewis Carroll_ Lost Doll, The _Charles Kingsley_ Lullaby for Titania _William Shakespeare_ Lullaby of an Infant Chief _Sir Walter Scott_

Marjorie's Almanac _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_ Morning Song, A _William Shakespeare_

Night _William Blake_ Night Wind, The _Eugene Field_ Nobody Knows _Walter de la Mare_ November _Alice Gary_

October's Bright Blue Weather _Helen Hunt Jackson_ Old Christmas _Mary Howitt_ "Old, Old Song," The _Charles Kingsley_ O Little Town of Bethlehem _Phillips Brooks_ Our Heroes _Phoebe Cary_ Owl, The _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_

Pig and the Hen, The _Alice Gary_ Pirate Story _Robert Louis Stevenson_ Pobble Who Has No Toes, The _Edward Lear_

Quangle Wangle's Hat, The _Edward Lear_

Rainbow, The _William Wordsworth_ Rain in Summer _Henry W. Longfellow_ Rainy Day, The _Henry W. Longfellow_ Red Riding-Hood _John G. Whittier_ Robert of Lincoln _William Cullen Bryant_ Robin Redbreast _William Allingham_ Romance _Gabriel Setoun_

Sandman, The _Margaret Vandegrift_ Sandpiper, The _Celia Thaxter_ September _Helen Hunt Jackson_ Snow-bird's Song, The _F.C. Woodworth_ Snowdrop, The _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ Song of the Fairy _William Shakespeare_ Song Sparrow, The _Henry van Dyke_ Spider and the Fly, The _Mary Howitt_ Spring _Celia Thaxter_

Talking in Their Sleep _Edith M. Thomas_ Thanksgiving Fable, A _Oliver Herford_ Three Fishers, The _Charles Kingsley_ To a Butterfly _William Wordsworth_ Tragic Story, A _William M. Thackeray_ Tree, The _Bjornstjerne Bjornson_ Truants, The _Walter de la Mare_

Under the Greenwood Tree _William Shakespeare_ Unseen Playmate, The _Robert Louis Stevenson_

Violet, The _Jane Taylor_ Visit from St. Nicholas, A _Clement C. Moore_ Voice of Spring, The _Mary Howitt_

Waiting to Grow _Frank French_ Walrus and the Carpenter, The _Lewis Carroll_ Wanderers _Walter de la Mare_ We Are Seven _William Wordsworth_ While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night (See "Christmas") White Seal _Rudyard Kipling_ Will Ever? _Walter de la Mare_ Wind and the Moon, The _.George Macdonald_ Wind in a Frolic, The _William Howitt_ Wind, The _Robert Louis Stevenson_ Winter _William Shakespeare_ Winter-Time _Robert Louis Stevenson_ Wishing _William Allingham_ Wonderful World, The _William B. Rands_ World's Music, The _Gabriel Setoun_

* * * * * * * * * *

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

A boy named Peter Across the German Ocean Across the narrow beach we flit "And where have you been, my Mary A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing A simple Child At evening when the lamp is lit "Awake, awake, my little boy! A wee little nut lay deep in its nest A wind came up out of the sea

Come, follow, follow me Come up, April, through the valley

Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern Dear little Violet Don't kill the birds, the pretty birds Down in a green and shady bed

Ere my heart beats too coldly and faintly

Forth into the forest straightway Forth upon the Gitche Gumee

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! God make my life a little light Good-bye, good-bye to Summer "Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world

Hail, Columbia! happy land! Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings Have you ever heard the wind go "Yooooo"? He is a roguish little elf Here's a hand to the boy who has courage How beautiful is the rain! How pleasant the life of a bird must be

I am coming, I am coming! I had a dove, and the sweet dove died I have got a new-born sister I know the song that the bluebird is singing "I'll tell you how the leaves came down" I'll tell you how the sun rose In the other gardens I once had a sweet little doll, dears I remember, I remember I saw a ship a-sailing I saw you toss the kites on high I see you, on the zigzag rails I shan't tell you what's his name It was a hungry pussy cat, upon Thanksgiving morn I've watched you now a full half hour

Jack in the pulpit Just as the moon was fading

Ladybird, ladybird! fly away home! Late lies the wintry sun a-bed Little brook! Little brook! Little bud Dandelion "Little by little," an acorn said Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay Little white snowdrop just waking up

Many, many welcomes Merrily swinging on briar and weed My fairest child, I have no song to give you My heart leaps up when I behold

November woods are bare and still Now he who knows old Christmas

O Blue Jay up in the maple tree Often I've heard the Wind sigh Oh I hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us Oh, such a commotion under the ground O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight O little town of Bethlehem Once the Emperor Charles of Spain On the top of the Crumpetty Tree On the wide lawn the snow lay deep O suns and skies and clouds of June Over hill, over dale Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune

Ring-Ting! I wish I were a Primrose Robins in the tree-top

Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear! Shorter and shorter now the twilight clips

The alder by the river The bluff March wind set out from home The Camel's hump is an ugly lump The day is cold, and dark, and dreary The day is ending The door was shut, as doors should be The Frost looked forth one still, clear night The goldenrod is yellow The grass so little has to do The ground was all covered with snow one day The leaves are fading and falling The mountain and the squirrel The pig and the hen The Pobble who has no toes There is a bird I know so well There! little girl! don't cry! There lived a sage in days of yore There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree There's a song in the air There stands by the wood-path shaded The rosy clouds float overhead The sun descending in the west The sun was shining on the sea The Tree's early leaf buds were bursting their brown The wind one morning sprang up from sleep The winds have blown more bitter The world's a very happy place They say that God lives very high They went to sea in a sieve, they did Three fishers went sailing away to the west Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Two good friends had Hiawatha

Under the greenwood tree Upon a showery night and still Up, up! ye dames and lasses gay!

We were crowded in the cabin When all the world is young, lad When cats run home and light is come When children are playing alone on the green When icicles hang by the wall When Solomon was reigning in his glory When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy When the warm sun, that brings While shepherds watched their flocks by night Wide are the meadows of night Will he ever be weary of wandering "Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail "Will you walk into my parlor?"

You spotted snakes with double tongue "You think I am dead"