"How the leaves are scalloped out;
Where's the den of Dragon Fly?
What do crickets chirp about?
Where do flowers go when they die?
"How far can a Fairy see?
Why are woodsy things afraid?
Who lives in the hollow tree?
How are cobweb carpets made?
"Why do Fairies hide?—Hello!
What? I cannot understand—"
That's the way they always do,
They've cut me off from Fairyland!
Abbie Farwell Brown
THE FAITHLESS FLOWERS
I went this morning down to where the Johnny-Jump-Ups grow
Like naughty purple faces nodding in a row.
I stayed 'most all the morning there—I sat down on a stump
And watched and watched and watched them—and they never gave a jump!
And Golden-Glow that stands up tall and yellow by the fence,
It doesn't glow a single bit—it's only just pretence—
I ran down after tea last night to watch them in the dark—
I had to light a match to see; they didn't give a spark!
And then the Bouncing Bets don't bounce—I tried them yesterday,
I picked a big pink bunch down in the meadow where they stay,
I took a piece of string I had and tied them in a ball,
And threw them down as hard as hard—they never bounced at all!
And tiger-lilies may look fierce, to meet them all alone,
All tall and black and yellowy and nodding by a stone,
But they're no more like tigers than the dogwood's like a dog,
Or bulrushes are like a bull or toadwort like a frog!
I like the flowers very much—they're pleasant as can be
For bunches on the table, and to pick and wear and see,
But still it doesn't seem quite fair—it does seem very queer—
They don't do what they're named for—not at any time of year!