BABY WORLD STORIES, RHYMES, AND PICTURES FOR LITTLE FOLKS

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Page 108 - Monday's child is fair of face/ Tuesday's child is full of grace/ Wednesday's child is full of woe/ Thursday's child has far to go...
Page 121 - I Ve run a-way from a lit-tle old wom-an, A lit-tle old man, A barn...
Page 173 - Coming in the sunshine Of the early spring, Tell me, tell me, pussy ! For I want to know, Where it is you come from, How it is you grow.
Page 288 - THE CITY CHILD. DAINTY little maiden, whither would you wander? Whither from this pretty home, the home where mother dwells? ' Far and far away,' said the dainty little maiden, ' All among the gardens, auriculas, anemones, Roses and lilies and Canterbury-bells.' Dainty little maiden, whither would you wander ? Whither from this pretty house, this city-house of ours? ' Far and far away,' said the dainty little maiden, ' All among the meadows, the clover and the clematis, Daisies and kingcups and honeysuckle-flowers.
Page 120 - I have run away from a little old woman, And a little old man, And I can run away from you, I can!
Page 92 - ABOUT twenty-five years ago my mother told me the story of the little red hen. She told it often to me at that time ; but I have never heard it since. So I shall try to tell it to you now from memory : There was once a little red hen. She was scratching near the barn one day, when she found a grain of wheat. She said,
Page 283 - And he'll put what I tell him on it — yes, every single word ! I shall say : ' Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, who is dead ; She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her head.
Page 281 - m ready now, My slate is clean, and I know how. But don't you ask me to subtract, I like to have my slate well packed; And only two long rows, you know, Make such a miserable show ! And, please, don't bring me sums to add; Well, multiplying...
Page 229 - Mary had a little lamb, Mary had a little lamb, Mary had a little 1-aa-mb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, And everywhere that Mary went, And everywhere that Mary we-ent, The lamb was sure to go.
Page 196 - And this is the song that I hear them sing, While cheery and loud their voices ring, " 'Tis the finest wheat that ever did grow, And it is for Alice's supper; ho! ho!

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