JUNE TWENTY-NINTH
'Tis grand to be six years old, dear,
With pence in a money box,
To ride on a wooden horse, dear,
And leave off baby socks.
F. E. Weatherly
JUNE THIRTIETH
Infancy conforms to nobody; all conform to it,
so that one babe commonly makes four or five out
of the adults who prattle and play to it.
Emerson
JULY
JULY FIRST
A little child, a limber elf,
Singing, dancing to itself,
A fairy thing with rosy cheeks,
That always finds and never seeks,
Makes such a vision to my sight
As fills a father's eye with light.
S. T. Coleridge
JULY SECOND
Bright-featured as the July sun
Her little face still played in,
And splendors, with her birth begun,
Had had no time for fading.
Mrs. Browning
JULY THIRD