MARJORIE’S BATH.
(Marjorie)
The water is cold, it makes me cry.
(Mother)
It will be warmer by and by.
(Marjorie)
A crab is hid deep in the sand below!
(Mother)
Then he cannot bite you dear, I know.
(Marjorie)
If you will let me paddle and play
I’ll try and swim some other day.
(Mother)
But the sea will be cold to-morrow, too,—
And the crab will be always biting you.
(Marjorie)
The big waves scare me, mother dear,
And make me feel so cold and queer.
If you’ll let me run on the sand and play,
I’ll find pretty shells for you, to-day.
—Helen Lee Sargent.
