In My Nursery

SUBTRACTION

Six from four leaves two, Mamma,Six from four leaves two.Surely that is right, Mamma, —Don't you think 'twill do?Please don't shake your head, Mamma!Well, it's nearly right;And what difference does it makeIf it isn't quite?Hark! the boys are there, Mamma,Out upon the lawn;If I don't go soon, Mamma,They will all be gone.I would let you go, Mamma,Were I teaching you.Six from four leaves two – oh dear!Four from six leaves two, Mamma!Now I have it right.Well! upon my word, I thinkI wasn't very bright.Dear Mamma, before I go,Here's a kiss for you.Four from six leaves two, hurrah!Four from six leaves two!

GRANDFATHER DEAR

[Written for Decoration Day.]Jonquil and daffodil mine,Lift me your golden-crowned heads!Cockscomb and peony fine,Lend me your lordliest reds!Tying my posy up here,I must have flowers at will;They are for Grandfather dear,There where he sleeps on the hill.Grandfather dear was a soldier,Gallant and handsome and young.Flowers, I'll show you his picture,Over the shelf where 'tis hung.Yes, and his sword hangs beneath it,The sword that he waved as he fell,Fighting on Winchester Field, —The field he was holding so well.So when the year's at the sweetest,Mother and Grandmother dearAnd I, we go gathering flowers,So sweet as they're blossoming here.And when Grandfather looks down from heaven,As he looks, and looks lovingly still,He smiles as he sees his own flowers,All shining and sweet on the hill.

GATHERING APPLES

Down in the orchard, down in the orchard,Under the gold-apple tree,One little maid and two little maidsFrolic, merry and free.Brown as a berry, red as a rose,Sweeter maidens nobody knows."What are you doing, Marjorie?Marjorie, tell to me?"Up she lifted her curly head,(Oh, but her cheeks were rosy-red!)Shaking her curls right saucily,"I'm gathering apples!" said she, said she,"I'm gathering apples!" said she.Down in the orchard, down in the orchard,Under the gold-apple tree,Softly treading, the farmer came,Peeping so warily.Six feet high from his head to his toes;A jollier farmer nobody knows."What are you doing, farmer, pray?Jolly old farmer, say!"Up he caught them both in his arms;Oh, the shrieks, the merry alarms!Closer clasping them lovingly,"I'm gathering apples!" said he, said he,"I'm gathering apples!" said he.

THE BALLAD OF THE BEACH

"Take off thy stockings, Samuel!Now take them off, I pray;Roll up thy trousers, Samuel,And come with me to play."The ebbing tide has left the sandAll hard and smooth and white,And we will build a goodly fort,And have a goodly fight."Then Samuel he pullèd offHis hose of scarlet hue,And Samuel he rollèd upHis breeches darkly blue.And hand-in-hand with Reginald,He hied him to the beach;Each little boy a shovel had,And eke a pail had each.Then down upon the shining sandRight joyfully they sat;And far upon the shining sandEach tossed his broad-brimmed hat.Then valiantly to work they went,Like sturdy lads and true;And there they built a stately fort,The best that they might do."Now sit we down within the walls,Which rise above our head,And we will make us cannon-ballsOf sand, as good as lead."Now as they worked, these little boys,Full glad in heart and mind,The creeping tide came back again,To see what it could find.The creeping tide came up the sand,To see what it could do;And there it found two broad-brimmed hats,With ribbons red and blue.And "See now!" said the creeping tide;"These hats belong, I trow,To Reginald and Samuel;I saw them here but now."And "See now!" said the creeping tide;"What hinders me to floatThese hats out to the boys' mamma,Is sailing in a boat?"Then up there came two little waves,All rippling so free;They lifted up the broad-brimmed hats,And bore them out to sea.The ribbons red and ribbons blueStreamed gallantly away;The straw did glitter in the sun,Were never craft so gay!The mother of these little ladsWas sailing on the sea;And now she laughed, and now she sang,And who so blithe as she?And "Look!" she said; "what things be theseThat dance upon the wave,All fluttering and glitteringAnd sparkling so brave?"Now row me well, my brethren, twain,Now row me o'er the sea!For we will chase these tiny craft,And see what they may be."They rowed her fast, they rowed her well, —Too well, those gallants true;For when she reached the broad-brimmed hats,Right well those hats she knew."Alas!" she cried; "my little ladsAre drownèd in the sea!"Then down she sank in deadly swoon,As pale as she might be.They rowed her well, those gallants gay,They rowed her to the land;They lifted up that lady pale,And bore her up the strand.But as they bore her up the beach,The balls began to fly,And hit those gallants on the nose,And hit them in the eye.They lookèd here, they lookèd there,To see whence this might be;And soon they spied a stately fort,Beside the salt, salt sea.And straight from out the stately fortThe balls were flying free;Each gallant rubbed his smitten nose,And eke his eye rubbed he.They looked within the stately fort,To see who aimed so well;And there was little Reginald,And youthful Samuel.They lifted up those little lads,Each by his waisty-band;And down beside that lady paleThey set them on the sand.And first that lady waxed more pale,And syne she waxed full red;And syne she kissed those little boys,But not a word she said.Then up and spoke those gallants gay,"You naughty little chaps,Your poor mamma you've frightened sore,And made her ill, perhaps."And if you are not shaken well,And if you are not spanked,It will not be your uncles' fault;So they need not be thanked."Then up and spoke those little lads,All mournful as they sat;And each did cry, "Ah, woe is me!I've lost – my nice – new – hat!"Then up and spoke that lady fair,"Nay, nay, my little dears,You sha'n't be spanked! so come with me,And wipe away your tears."There be more hats in Boston town,For little boys to wear;And as for those that you have lost,I pray their voyage be fair."For since I have my little lads,The hats may sail awayAround the world and back again,Forever and a day!"

THE BOOTS OF A HOUSEHOLD

[After Mrs. Hemans.]They came in beauty, side by side,They filled one house with noise;And now they're trotting far and wide,On feet of girls and boys.The self-same shoemaker did bendO'er every heel and toe;Shaped all their upper leathers fair, —Where are those leathers now?One pair is kicking 'gainst the bench,The patient bench, at school;And two are wading through the mud,And splashing in the pool."The sea, the blue, lone sea," hath one.He left it on the beach;A merry wave came dancing up,And bore it out of reach.One sleeps where depths of slimy bogAre glossed with grasses o'er;One hasty plunge – it loosed its hold,And sank to rise no more.One pair – aha! I see them now,And know them past all doubt;For through each leather, gaping wide,A rosy toe peeps out.And parted thus, old, dusty, torn,They travel far and wide,Who in the shop, in shining rows,Sat lately side by side.And thus they frolic, frolic there,And thus they caper here;But great and small, and torn and all,To mother's heart are dear.[N. B. —Also to father's purse.]

THE PALACE

It's far away under the water,And it's far away under the sea,There's a beautiful palace a-waitingFor my little Rosy and me.The roof is made of coral,And the floor is made of pearl,And over it all the great waves fallWith a terrible tumble and whirl.The fishes swim in at the window,And the fishes swim out at the door,And the lobsters and eels go dancing quadrillesAll over the beautiful floor.There's a silver throne at on end,And a golden throne at the other;And on them you see, as plain as can be,"Queen Rosy" and "Queen Mother."And I will sit on the silver throne,And Rosy shall sit on the gold;And there we will stay, and frolic and play,Until we're a thousand years old.

BUNKER HILL MONUMENT

Do you see that stately column,Children dear,Lifting its gray head to heaven,Year by year?Telling of the battle fought,Telling of the good work wrought,Telling of the victory bought,Bought so dear!Oh! the costly blood that flowed,Children mine!Fast as from the purple grapesFlows the wine!Oh! the heroes lying dead!Oh! the women's hearts that bled!Oh! the bitter tears they shed,Children mine!Long ago the tears were dried,Children dear!Long ago the weepers died,Year by year.But the column old and grayTells the story day by day."Victory!" it seems to say."Victory's here!"

MAY

Is there anything new to sing about you,May, my dear?Any unhackneyed thing about you,Pray, my dear?Anything that has not been sungLong ago, when the world was young,By silver throat and golden tongue?Say, my dear!So many have said that your eyes are blue,May, my dear;It must be a tiresome fact, though true,May, my dear.And if I, for one, my gracious Queen,Should boldly assert that your eyes are green,'Twould be a relief to you, I ween.Eh, my dear?We know, at the touch of your garment's fold,May, my dear,The daisies come starring with white and goldThe way, my dear;We know that the painted blossoms allCome starting up at your gentle call,By dale and meadow and garden wall,May, my dear.We know that your birds have the sweetest tune,May, my dear;And lovers love best beneath your moon,They say, my dear.And I might add that your perfumed kissIs considered productive of highest bliss;But you must be so tired of hearing this.Eh, my dear?No, I really don't think there's anything freshOr new, my dear;For life is short, and available rhymesAre few, my dear.So if I say nought about vernal bowers,And forbear to mention the sunlit showers,I think I shall make the best use of my powers.Don't you, my dear?And yet – yet I cannot help loving you so,May, my dear,That the old words, whether I will or no,I say, my dear.And how you are fair, and how you are sweet,My loving lips forever repeat, —And is this the reason you pass so fleet?Ah, stay, my dear!

GREGORY GRIGGS

Gregory Griggs, Gregory Griggs,Had forty-seven different wigs;He wore them up, and he wore them down,To please the people of Boston town.He wore them east, and he wore them west,But he never could tell which he liked the best.

A NURSERY TRAGEDY

It was a lordly elephant,His name, his name was Sprite;He stood upon the nursery floor,All ready for a fight.He looked upon the rocking-horse,Who proudly prancing stood:"O rocking-horse! O shocking horse!I'm thirsting for your blood!"How dare you stand and look at me,You ugly snorting thing?Know, that of every living beast,The elephant is king!"And if a person looks at me,Unless I give him leave,He's very apt to meet his deathToo swiftly for reprieve."You are the most unpleasant beastI e'er have looked on yet;Although the stupid children hereWill make of you a pet."I hate your tail of waving hair!I hate your bits of brass!But more, oh, more than all, I hateYour gleaming eyes of glass!"Were you of cotton-flannel made,As nursery beasts should be,With eyes of good black boot-buttons,You then might look at me."I might forgive your want of tusks,Your lack of trunk forgive;But that wild, goggling, glassy glare —No! never, while I live!"So get you gone, you rocking-horse!Go to your closet-shed,And there, behind the wood-basket,Conceal your ugly head!"But as the elephant thus did scoldAnd rage and fume and roar,The rocking-horse rocked over him,And crushed him to the floor.

THE UMBRELLA BRIGADE

"Pitter patter!" falls the rainOn the school-room window-pane.Such a plashing! such a dashing!Will it e'er be dry again?Down the gutter rolls a flood,And the crossing's deep in mud;And the puddles! oh, the puddlesAre a sight to stir one's blood!Chorus. But let it rainTree-toads and frogs,Muskets and pitchforks,Kittens and dogs!Dash away! plash away!Who is afraid?Here we go,The Umbrella Brigade!Pull the boots up to the knee!Tie the hoods on merrily!Such a hustling! such a jostling!Out of breath with fun are we.Clatter, clatter, down the street,Greeting every one we meet,With our laughing and our chaffing,Which the laughing drops repeat.Chorus. So let it rainTree-toads and frogs,Muskets and pitchforks,Kittens and dogs!Dash away! plash away!Who is afraid?Here we go,The Umbrella Brigade!

THE PRINCESS IN SATURN AND THE RED MAN IN MARS

There once was a princess both fair and tall,Who did not live on this earth at all.She lived up in Saturn,And she was a patternOf every accomplishment, great and small;The graces and virtues, she had them all.Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, she had them pat;And she played on the sackbut! think of that!And she sang so sweet,All the birds at her feetWith envy and sorrow fell down quite flat;I've been told they fell down quite remarkably flat.Now all the princes and all the kingsWho lived in Saturn and all his rings,They came and kneltWhere the princess dwelt;And they brought her all sorts of beautiful things, —Oh! quite an assortment of elegant things.For one king brought her a diamond hat;And another presented a two-legged cat;While another one said,"When my uncle is dead,I will give you his monkey. Be sure of that!His talented monkey; depend upon that!"One powerful prince, with a haughty stride,Came forward and said, "If you'll be my bride,You shall have the Great BearTo powder your hair,And the small one to lace up your boots beside, —To lace up your boots, and to shine them beside."But the princess sighed; and softly she said,"Alas! not one of you all can I wed.'Tis my positive planTo marry a manWho lives up in Mars, and is painted red, —From his head to his feet, quite a violent red."I have often looked through my opera-glass,And up and down I have seen him pass;And so bright was his hue,And so lovely to view,I felt that in him lay my fate, alas!I read in his red my own fate, alas!"So now, if you love me as fond and trueAs all of you think that all of you do,You will help me to wedMy 'Study in Red.'Oh, kings and princes, now pray you, do!You dear kings and princes, I beg of you, do!"The kings and princes arose with a frown,And first they looked up, and then they looked down.Not a man of them spokeTill he'd straightened his cloak,And settled his wig, and adjusted his crown.

THE PRINCESS IN SATURN

And then, "If you honestly wish," they said,"To marry a man who is painted red"(In Saturn, I ween,All the people are green),"We don't know that there's anything more to be said, —Your Highness, there seems nothing more to be said."So they called a comet, and told him to goTo the Red Man in Mars, and give him to knowThat a princess in Saturn,Of virtues the pattern,Desired to marry him, whether or no, —Was determined to marry him, whether or no.Away whizzed the comet, and soon he cameTo the Red Man in Mars, and called him by name.And telling his news,Begged him not to refuseTo send back an answer at once to the same, —"Just you make up your mind in regard to the same!"But the Red Man sighed, and mournfully said,"My friend, 'tis our law that all wives must be red;And if I should be seenWith a wife who is green,Our king would be apt at removing my head, —Not a moment he'd lose in removing my head."But if the young lady (who's surely most kind),Could in any way make up her princessly mindTo turn herself red,It need hardly be saidThat a lover devoted in me she would find, —That a husband adoring in me she would find."The comet whizzed back with the answer again,And the kings and the princes received it with pain."Sure, the princess's greenHas so brilliant a sheen,That the thought of a change is exceedingly vain, —The idea of a change is prepost'rously vain."But when the princess this message heard,She said, "I see nothing in this that's absurd."Then to blush she began;And she blushed till the ManIn Mars was less ruddy by half, on my word, —Less red by a generous half, on my word!She blushed over cheek and lip and brow,From her fair little head to her trim little toe.And her hat and her shoe,And her farthingale too,They blushed just as red as herself, I vow, —They blushed for the love of herself, I vow.She blushed till the Northern Lights grew pale;And the Scorpion danced on the tip of his tail;And the Red Man cameIn a fiery flame,And cried, "My bee-yutiful bride, all hail!My blushing, bee-yutiful bride, all hail!"And so they were married, both he and she,And the color of both was quite scarlet to see.And they lived, the tale says,To the end of their days,As happy, as happy, as happy could be:Sure, no other couple so happy could be.For she loved him in Hebrew, and likewise in Greek,And the Latin tongue also she freely did speak.And the sackbut she'd playEvery hour in the day,Till the Red Man in Mars would with ecstasy squeak, —Till her cochineal husband with rapture would squeak.But the people in Saturn were sad, I ween,And evermore greener they grew, and more green;And the princes and kingsSaid such heartbreaking things,In these mirth-loving pages they must not be seen:I really must stop,And the subject must drop,For it won't do at all for such things to be seen.

WIGGLE AND WAGGLE AND BUBBLE AND SQUEAK

Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,They went their fortunes for to seek;They went to sea in a chicken-coop,And they lived on mulligatawney soup.Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,They cooked their soup every day in the week;They cooked their soup in a chimney-pot,For there the water was always hot.Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,Each gave the other one's nose a tweak;They tweaked so hard that it took their breath,And so they met an untimely death.

Gret Gran'f'ther

What! take Gret Gran'f'ther's musket,Thet he kerried at Bunker Hill,An' go a-gunnin' fer sparrersWith Solomon Judd an' Bill?You let thet musket alone, Dan'l!An' git down from thet air stool.You've just time enough to hold this yarnAfore ye go off to school.Thar! don't ye wriggle an' twist, sonny!The yarn's fer yer own new socks;It's safer to hold than muskets,With their triggers an' riggers an' locks.A musket to shoot at sparrers!Wal, boys is up to sech tricks!An' thet old un, too, thet ain't ben tetchedSence seventeen seventy-six!But I set more store by its rusty stock,Than the finest money could buy;An' if you'll stan' stiddy, Dan'l,I'll tell ye the reason why.You never seed Gret Gran'f'ther,But you've seed his pictur, boy,With the smilin' mouth, an' the big brown eyesJes' brimmin' with life and joy.Wal! he war'n't like thet when I seed him,But his sperrit was lively still,Fer all his white hair an' empty sleeve,As it was at Bunker Hill.An' many's the time he's told me,Settin' here in this very cheer,Of the fust time he shouldered thet musket,In the Continental year.How out in the field a-mowin',He seed the bay'nets glance,An' ran fer his gun with a lighter heartThan ever he went to a dance.Jest as he was, – in his shirt-sleeves(Fer the day was warm and bright),An' no hat, – but shoulderin' his musket,Gret Gran'f'ther went to the fight.An' thar upon Bunker hillside,Whar the smoke hung thick an' gray,He went a-gunnin' fer redcoats,As you'd go fer sparrers to-day.Hey! but the balls were whistlin'!An' the flashes kem thick an' fast;But whose-ever musket hed fust word,Gret Gran'f'ther's hed the last.Then a gunner was shot beside him,Thet handled a six-pound gun,An' they called fer a man to tend her;An' Gran'f'ther said he was one."I ain't never fired a gun," said he,"But I'll do my prideful best;An' ef all you want is a man, Colonel,Mebbe I'm as good as the rest."An' I reckon he was! fer he stood thar,An' fired thet six-pound gun,Till every redcoat within his rangeHed either dropped or run.Then all of a suddent thar kem a crack,A flash an' a twinge an' a thrill,An' Gran'f'ther's right arm dropped by his side,An' hung thar, limp an' still.Jest fer a moment, I've heard him say,The hull world seemed to reel;An' a hummin' sound went through his ears,Like Gran'm'ther's spinnin'-wheel.But he hedn't no time for faintin',Nor he hedn't no time for pain;"It's well I'm left-handed!" says Gran'f'ther,An' he fired the gun again.Bimeby, when the Colonel found him,Arter the fight was done,He was lyin', all black like a nigger,An' senseless, along by his gun.Then the boys made a kind o' stretcher,An' jest as they laid him a-top,"The balls was all gone," he says, "Colonel,So I was obleeged to stop."Yes! thet was the way Gret Gran'f'ther fit,An' the way he lost his arm;But he shot with his left till the land was free,An' then he kem back to the farm.An' he laid his musket acrost them hooks,An' thar it's laid to this day;An' spite o' you an' the sparrers, Dan'l,Thar's whar it's a-goin' to stay.The school-bell! run now, sonny boy!An' thank ye fer standin' still.What's thet? Ay! Hurrah fer Gret Gran'f'ther!An' hurrah fer Bunker Hill!

DAY DREAMS

White wings over the water,Fluttering, fluttering over the sea,White wings over the water,What are you bringing to me?A fairy prince in a golden boat,With golden ringlets that fall and float,A velvet cap, and a taffety cloak,This you are bringing to me.Fairy, fairy princekin,Sailing, sailing hither to me,Silk and satin and velvet,What are you coming to see?A little girl in a calico gown,With hair and eyes of dusky brown,Who sits on the wharf of the fishing-town,Looking away to sea.Golden, golden sunbeams,Touch me now with your wands of gold;Make me a beautiful princess,Radiant to behold.Blue and silver and ermine fine,Diamond drops that flash and shine;So shall I meet this prince of mine,Fairer than may be told.White wings over the water,Fluttering ever farther away;Dark clouds shrouding the sunbeams,Sullen and cold and gray.Back I go in my calico gown,Back to the hut in the fishing-town.And oh, but the night shuts darkly downAfter the summer day!

THE BATTLE

[All the children march, each singing a verse in turn, and all joining in the refrain.]I am a German,Marching, marching.I am a German,Tum tum tum!Musket on shoulder,Who could be bolder,Tramping away at the sound of the drum.Chorus. Bang! bang! bang!Hear the muskets rattle!Bang! bang! bang! bang!Now we'll have a battle.Shoot 'em through the head,Run 'em through the body!He who runs awayIs called a Hoddy-Doddy.1[Repeat after each verse.]I am a Frenchman,Marching, marching.I am a Frenchman,Tum tum tum!First at the front,I will bear the battle's brunt,Tramping away at the sound of the drum.I am an Englishman,Marching, marching.I am an Englishman,Tum tum tum!Let the foeman meet me!Where's the one to beat me?Tramping away at the sound of the drum.I am an Irishman,Marching, marching.I am an Irishman,Tum tum tum!When the battle's ready,Who'll be there but Paddy?Tramping away at the sound of the drum.[All together.]We are the regiment,Marching, marching.We are the regiment,Tum tum tum!Let the trumpets blow,As we rush to meet the foe,With a tan tan tara! at the sound of the drum.

THE STRANGE BEAST

Four gay gallants of London townWent out to walk on Horsley Down;And there they saw a beast,The like of which had ne'er been seenIn Cheapside or in Strand, I ween,In West-side or in East.Its legs were four, its tail was one,So one gallant swore by the sunIt therefore was a horse;"Nay!" cried the next, "this talk is idle.If 'twere a horse, 'twould have a bridle,A saddle, too, of course.""It has a horn, you will perceive,We'll therefore call it, by your leave,A unicorn of pride."The others vowed by stick and fiddleThe unicorn wore his horn in the middle,And not upon the side."I call't a lion!" said the third."Nay!" cried the fourth, "that's too absurd!The creature has no mane.To one who has a judgment fair,It would appear to be a bear;And this I will maintain."The beast (I'll tell the secret now!'Twas Farmer Giles's one-horned cow,Her other horn was broken)Advanced, meanwhile, toward the four,And as 'twas supper-time and more,Mooed loud, by way of token.With shriek and scream those gallants gayTo London town fled back away,As fast as they might fare.And when at home they stopped to rest 'em,A whole menagerie had chased 'em,As every one could swear.

A GARDEN JINGLE

Three little peas,Three little peas,Three little peas in a pod.The pod it was green,And fair to be seen,But they wanted to go abroad.And "Oh," said they,"To be far away,Out in the air so green!To flutter and flyLike the birds that go by!We would envy nor king nor queen."Three little peas,Three little peas,Three little peas in a pod.My Harry he took them,And rattled and shook them,And fired them all abroad.The first one fellRight into the well,And learned how to float and swim.The second did flyInto Roderick's eye,And sorely disgusted him.But the third little pea,Right venturesomely,Straight up in the air it flew;And it stared in surpriseWith both of its eyes,To find that the air was blue.