THE CHILDREN’S NEW DRESSES
Once there was a small town. In the small town were many houses and in the houses were many people. In one of these houses there lived a mother with a great many children. One night after the children were all in bed and the mother was sitting by the fire, a brick fell down the chimney. Then another came bumping and rattling down. Now outside there was a great wind blowing. It whistled down the chimney and up flamed the fire. The sparks flew into the hole where the bricks had fallen out. The first thing the mother knew the house was all on fire. Still the great wind roared. The house next door caught fire, then the next, then the next, then the next, until half the little town was burning. The mother with the many children and many other frightened people ran to the part of the town behind the great wind. And there they stayed until the wind died down and they could put the fire out.
Now many of these people’s clothes had burned with their houses. The many children who had gone to bed before the fire began had nothing to wear except their nightclothes. The mother went to the store. That too was burned! But she found the storekeeper and said:—“Storekeeper, sell me some dresses for my children for their dresses have been burned and they have nothing to wear.”
“But, mother of the many children,” the storekeeper replied, “first I must get me the dresses. For that I must send to the many-fingered factory in the middle of the city.”
So he sent to the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city and he said:—“Clothier, send me some dresses that I may sell to the mother; for her children’s dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear.”
But the clothier in the many-fingered factory replied:—“First I must get me the cloth. For that I must send to the weaving mill. The weaving mill is in the hills where there is water to turn its wheels.”
So the clothier sent to the weaving mill in the hills where there is water to turn its wheels and said:—“Weaver, send me the cloth that the many fingers at the factory may make dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children’s dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear.”
But the weaver in the weaving mill in the hills sent back word:—“First I must get me the cotton. For that I must send to the cotton fields. The cotton fields are in the south where the land is hot and low.”
So the weaver in the weaving mill in the hills sent to the cotton plantation, and he said:—“Planter, send me the cotton from the hot low lands that I may make cloth in the mill in the hills to send to the clothier in the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city to be made into dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children’s dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear.”
But the planter sent back word:—“First I must get the negroes to pick the cotton. For cotton must be picked in the hot sun and negroes are the only ones who can stand the sun.”
So the planter went to the negroes and he said:—“Pick me the cotton from the hot low lands that I may send it to the weaver in his mill in the hills that he may weave the cloth to send to the clothier in the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city to make dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children’s dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear.”
But the negroes answered:—“First de sun, he hab got to shine and shine and shine! ’Cause de sun, he am de only one dat can make dem little seed bolls bust wide open!”
So the negroes sang to the sun:—“Big sun, so shiny hot! Is you gwine to shine on dem cotton bolls so we can pick de cotton for de massah so he can send it to de weaver in de weaving mills in de hills to weave into cloth so he can send it to de clothier in de many-fingered factory in de middle of de big city to make dresses to send to de storekeeper in de small town so he can sell it to de mammy; for de chillun’s dresses hab gone and burned up and dey ain’t got nothin’ to wear!”
Now the sun heard the song of the negroes of the south. And he began to shine. And he kept on shining on the hot low lands. And when the cotton bolls on the hot low lands felt the sun shine and shine and shine, they burst wide open. Then the negroes picked the cotton, the planter shipped it, the weaver wove it, the clothier made it into dresses, and the storekeeper sold them to the mother.
So at last the many children took off their nightclothes and put on their new dresses. And so they were all happy again!
OLD DAN GETS THE COAL
The occupations of the city horse are always absorbing to the school children. They have many tales about various “Old Dans” and their various trades. The docks are familiar to almost all the children,—even to the four-year-olds. This verse is meant to be read fast or slow according to whether or no the wagon is empty.