THE LITTLE BOOK PEOPLE
At half past eight I say "good night" and snuggle up in bed.
I'm never lonely, for it's then I hear the gentle tread
Of all the tiny book people. They come to visit me,
And lean above my pillow just as friendly as can be!
Sometimes they cling against the wall or dance about in air.
I never hear them speak a word, but I can see them there.
When Cinderella comes she smiles with happy, loving eyes,
And makes a funny nod at me when she the slipper tries.
Dear Peter Pan flies in and out. I see his shadow, too,
And often see his little house and all his pirate crew.
I think they know I love them and that's why they come at night,
When other people do not know that they've slipped out of sight;
But I have often been afraid that while they visit me
Some other little boy, perhaps, may stay up after tea,
And when he tries to find them on the pages of his book
He cannot see them anywhere, though he may look and look!
That's why I never stay awake nor keep them here too long.
I go to sleep and let them all slip back where they belong.
EDNA A. FOSTER.