Part 30

BY THOMAS HOOD

A little fairy comes at night; Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown, With silver spots upon her wings, And from the moon she flutters down.

She has a little silver wand, And when a good child goes to bed, She waves her wand from right to left, And makes a circle round its head.

And then it dreams of pleasant things-- Of fountains filled with fairy fish, And trees that bear delicious fruit. And bow their branches at a wish.

Of arbors filled with dainty scents From lovely flowers that never fade, Bright flies that glitter in the sun, And glow-worms shining in the shade.

And talking birds with gifted tongues For singing songs and telling tales, And pretty dwarfs to show the way Through fairy hills and fairy dales.

But when a bad child goes to bed, From left to right she weaves her rings, And then it dreams all through the night Of only ugly, horrid things!

Then lions come with glaring eyes, And tigers growl, a dreadful noise, And ogres draw their cruel knives, To shed the blood of girls and boys.

Then stormy waves rush on to drown, Or raging flames come scorching round, Fierce dragons hover in the air, And serpents crawl along the ground.

Then wicked children wake and weep, And wish the long black gloom away; But good ones love the dark, and find The night as pleasant as the day.

LULLABY

BY GERTRUDE THOMPSON MILLER

Come lay your head on my breast, my dear, That I may feel your sweet form near; Then we'll rock, rock, in the rocking chair, And play we're sailing up through the air.

Your body so warm, so close, and so round, A more precious bundle ne'er was found; Just nestle your head right here on my arm, And Mother will keep you safe from all harm.

Now, we rock, rock, and away we go, Over the houses and trees, just so, Like the birds, we'll fly to a sunny land, And there we'll join the fairies' band.

We'll take them to ride; we'll sail for home, For Father is there, and he's all alone; Then we'll alight on the nursery bed, Fairies for company in Mother's stead.

KENTUCKY BABE

BY RICHARD HENRY BUCK

Skeeters am a hummin' on de honeysuckle vine, Sleep, Kentucky Babe! San'man am a comin' to dis little coon of mine,-- Sleep, Kentucky Babe! Silv'ry moon am shinin' in de heabens up above, Bobolink am pinin' fo' his little lady love: Yo' is mighty lucky, babe of old Kentucky,-- Close yo' eyes in sleep.

Fly away, Kentucky Babe, fly away to rest, Lay yo' kinky, woolly head on yo' mammy's breast,-- Um-um-um-um,-- Close yo' eyes in sleep.

Daddy's in de canebrake wid his little dog and gun,-- Sleep, Kentucky Babe! Possum fo' yo' breakfast when yo' sleepin' time is done,-- Sleep, Kentucky Babe! Bogie man'll catch yo' sure unless yo' close yo' eyes, Waitin' jes outside de doo' to take yo' by surprise! Close yo' eyes in sleep.

These words are published by the Company in the form of a musical composition by Adam Geibel, the well-known composer.

MY POSSESSIONS

I'm a rich man, If ever there was one: I've a horse and an apple, And both are my own.

But some others might wish Such fine presents to keep; So I'll take them to bed, To hold while asleep.

And when in the morning I wake up once more, I've my toy and my apple, To me a rich store.

THE WAKE-UP STORY

BY EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD