CHRISTMAS EVE.
God bless the little stockings all over the land to-night
Hung in the choicest corners, in the glory of crimson light.
The tiny scarlet stockings, with a hole in the heel and toe,
Worn by the wonderful journeys that the darlings have to go.
And Heaven pity the children, wherever their homes may be,
Who wake at the first gray dawning, an empty stocking to see.
—Anon.
MORNING SONG.
What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
“Let me fly,” says little birdie,
“Mother, let me fly away.”
“Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.”
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
“Let me rise and fly away.”
“Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away.”
—Alfred Tennyson.
SUPPOSE, MY LITTLE LADY.
Suppose, my little lady,
Your doll should break her head;
Could you make it whole by crying
Till your eyes and nose are red?
And wouldn’t it be pleasanter
To treat it as a joke,
And say you’re glad ’twas Dolly’s,
And not your head, that broke?
Suppose you’re dressed for walking,
And the rain comes pouring down;
Will it clear off any sooner
Because you scold and frown?
And wouldn’t it be nicer
For you to smile than pout,
And so make sunshine in the house
When there is none without?
Suppose your task, my little man,
Is very hard to get;
Will it make it any easier
For you to sit and fret?
Than waiting like a dunce,
To go to work in earnest,
And learn the thing at once?
—Phœbe Cory.