Grandpa rubs his glasses;
Whispers, "Yes, indeed!
How that child is growing—
Growing like a weed!"
Mother's word is sweetest:
"Yes, in sun and shower
She's been growing, growing,
Growing like a flower!"
BABY'S PLAYTHINGS
Ten cunning little playthings
He never is without—
His little wiggle-waggle toes
That carry him about.
They look so soft and pinky,
And good enough to eat!
How lucky that the little toes
Are fastened to his feet!
Ten little pinky playthings
He cannot eat or lose;
Except when Nursey hides them all
In little socks and shoes.
WHEN IT RAINS
We don't mind rainy days a bit,
my brother Ted and I;
There's such a lot of games to play
before it comes blue sky.
Sometimes we play I'm Mrs. Noah,
and Ted's Methusalem!
I put him in his little box and
hand his little drum
(There has to be some way, you see,
to let the Ark-folks know
That Father Noah expects them all,
and where they are to go)
And then they come by twos and twos,
and twos and twos and twos,
Till trotting with them 'cross the floor
'most wears out my new shoes.
They all go in, and when it's time,
we let the flood begin;
The rainier it rains the more
we like it staying in.