Baby World: Stories, Rhymes and Pictures for Little Folks Compiled from St. Nicholas

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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 286 - LITTLE Gustava sits in the sun, Safe in the porch, and the little drops run From the icicles under the eaves so fast, For the bright spring sun shines warm at last, And glad is little Gustava. She wears a quaint little scarlet cap, And a little green bowl she holds in her lap, Filled with bread and milk to the brim, And a wreath of marigolds round the rim: "Ha! ha!" laughs little Gustava. Up comes her little gray coaxing cat With her little pink nose, and she mews, "What's that?
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 286 - So dainty and eager they pick up the crumbs; But who is this through the doorway comes? Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags, Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags: "Ha, ha!" laughs little Gustava. "You want some breakfast, too?
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 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 253 - A-tripping o'er the meadow he is seen. Through all the bright June weather, Like a jolly little tramp, He wanders o'er the hillside, down the road ; Around his yellow feather, The gypsy fire-flies camp ; His companions are the woodlark and the toad.
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...

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