Child-Song.

191

Darnin' socks, and rockin' in the skreeky rockin'

cheer;

Pap gap, and wunder where it wuz the money

went,

And quar'l with his frosted heels, and spill his lini

ment:

And me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whur and buzz,

Long afore

I knowed who

"Santy-Claus" wuz!

Size the fire-place up, and figger how "Old Santy" could

Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would;

Wisht that I could hide and see him-wundered

what he'd say

Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!
But I bet on him, and liked him, same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back and say, "Look
here, my lad,

Here's my pack,-jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good boys does!"

Long afore

I knowed who

66

Santy-Claus" wuz!

Wisht that yarn was true about him, as it 'peared

to be

192

Child-Song.

Truth made out o' lies like that un's good enough

fer me !

Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild Over hangin' up my stockin's, like the little child Climbin' in my lap to-night, and beggin' me to tell 'Bout them reindeers, and "Old Santy" that she loves so well.

I'm half sorry fer this little girl sweetheart of hisLong afore

THE SLEEPING FLOWERS.

"WHOSE are the little beds," I asked,

66

Which in the valleys lie?"

Some shook their heads, and others smiled, And no one made reply.

66

Perhaps they did not hear," I said;

"I will inquire again.

Whose are the beds, the tiny beds,

So thick upon the plain?"

"'T is daisy in the shortest ;

A little farther on,

Nearest the door to wake the first,

Little leontodon.

""T is iris, sir, and aster,

Anemone and bell,

Batschia in the blanket red,

And chubby daffodil."

Meanwhile at many cradles

Her busy foot she plied,

194

Child-Song.

Humming the quaintest lullaby

That ever rocked a child.

"Hush! Epigea wakens! The crocus stirs her lids, Rhodora's cheek is crimson,

She's dreaming of the woods."

Then, turning from them, reverent,

66

Their bed-time 't is," she said;

"The bumble-bees will wake them

When April woods are red."

EMILY DICKINSON.

GOD, MAKE MY LIFE A LITTLE LIGHT.

GOD, make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow,-
A little flame that burneth bright,
Wherever I may go.

God, make my life a little flower

That giveth joy to all;

Content to bloom in native bower,-
Although the place be small.

God, make my life a little staff
Whereon the weak may rest;

That so what health and strength I have
May serve my neighbor best.

MRS. B. M. EDWARDS.