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"Here's plenty of shells and clay and water,
Make me some nice mud-pies, my daughter."
"Oh! yes, mamma—and the sun is hot,
I can heat my oven as well as not.
If you will take, why, I will make—
Pit 'em and pat 'em and set 'em to bake."
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LITTLE BELL DREER AND THE DISH-COVER.
O mamma! look, cried little Bell Dreer;
There's a girl in the cover like me;
And whenever I move she looks so queer;
It's so funny—I never did see!
Why, she makes a face if I turn my cheek;
She makes a face if I wink.
Oh! her hair runs off, and she tries to speak;
Why, she's frightened at me, I think!
Come out little girl, and see my doll;
Come out of the shine and play.
I haven't a bit of a sister at all,
And my dolly is sick to-day.
My dolly is sick, and my book is torn,
And my hair has got to be curled;
And mother is reading. It's real forlorn
To be all alone in the world.
Come out, little girl. Oh! I wish you would.
[You mustn't make faces that way.]
I'd lift you out of the shine if I could,
And play with you all the whole day.
"COME OUT, LITTLE GIRL."