THE VALLEY OF GRUMP.

The Valley of Grump is a sad, sad place,

And a dangerous pitfall, too,

So easy it seems to slip into its depths—

And some of the little folks do!

Oh, I'm sorry for them when I witness their woe,

Their faces all wrinkle and twist about so;

And to their assistance I gladly would go—

But I dread the sad Valley of Grump, my dears,

I dread the sad Valley of Grump!

The sun never shines in the Valley of Grump;

The wind always blows from the east;

The air, I have noticed, is constantly chill,

And never warms up in the least.

As every one weeps, there are tears all the day;

And when people are cross, they have little to say;

And when faces are ugly, they look t'other way—

So beware of the Valley of Grump, my dears,

Beware of the Valley of Grump!

The sun never shines in the Valley of Grump

Yet sometimes they speak in the Valley of Grump,

And their language, I'm told, is a whine—

You may have been troubled by sound of that speech,

But I hope that fate won't be mine.

And sometimes, from down in the depths of the vale,

The whine rises up in a terrible wail;

And the people who hear are like to turn pale,

And flee from the Valley of Grump, my dears,

Far away from the Valley of Grump!

There the tears ever falling are turned into fog

That hangs o'er the vale damp and chill,

And in it the little folks shiver and shake

Till they really are well-nigh ill!

So I long to cry out to the sad little crew,

"Come up to the sunshine, you grumpy ones, do!

Your tears are all needless, if only you knew—

Come out of the Valley of Grump, poor dears,

Come out of the Valley of Grump!"