OUR Big Clock goes so slow,
When I am waiting on the stairs,
With nice, clean clothes on, dressed to go
Out with Aunt Beth to see the bears
And funny possums at the Zoo!
But oh, at night how fast
Our Big Clock goes! It's very rude
To company, and when time's past
When I must always go to bed,
The hands just fly in wicked glee.
It strikes out long ahead
And makes them all look round at me.
Copyright, 1908, by Duffield and Co.
THE NEW DRESS
I HAVE a very pretty dress,
It's made of pink and white,
And there are ribbons on it, too,
Which make it bright.
And yet I think I like it less
Than this dear other one—
The worn-out, patched-up blue
I wear when I have fun.
It clings to me as if it loved
To have me wear it every day.
The pink stands out so straight and stiff
It's in my way.
How can I get to know it well,
When it's so Sunday-clean?
Perhaps when it is old and stained
With dust and grass, it will not seem
So strange and dignified as now.
But then I think
I never could make mud pies right
If I had on my pink.