The fireside for the cricket,
The wheat stack for the mouse,
When trembling night winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow--
Alas! In winter dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer!
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.
[THORN ROSE]
In the long, long ago, there lived a king and queen who for many years had no children.
At last a lovely baby was born to them--a little princess.
There was great rejoicing over all the land. The king and queen decided to have a party in honor of the princess.
In the palace there was hurry and stir to make ready. Messengers were sent far and near, to invite the lords and ladies of the land to the great feast.
Among the guests invited to the party were seven good fairies.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon. The roses on the palace wall were nodding their heads sleepily in the warm breeze, when the chariot with the seven fairies arrived.