Part 68

TIME FOR EVERYTHING

There's a time to run and a time to walk; There's a time for silence, a time for talk; There's a time for work and a time for play; There's a time for sleep at the close of day. There's a time for everything you do, For children and for grown-ups, too. A time to stand up and a time to sit,-- But see that the time and actions fit.

UMBRELLAS AND RUBBERS

Umbrellas and rubbers You never forget, Whenever it's raining Or snowy or wet;

But if it should clear up, While you are away, Please bring them back home For the next rainy day.

WHISPERING IN SCHOOL

"Do not whisper" is a rule You will find in every school, And the reason here is given In a rhyme: For children all will chatter About any little matter-- And there'd be a dreadful clatter, All the time!

RECESS

The romping boys Make lots of noise, And run and jump and laugh and shout, While here and there, With quiet air, The girls in couples walk about.

A game begins, But no one wins, Although they play with might and main, For long before The game is o'er The bell rings out for school again.

AFTER SCHOOL

Although we like to go to school, We're rather glad to put away Our books and slates and other things, When it is over for the day.

And off we go to play and romp, While teacher, who is good and kind, Is left behind all by herself-- But then, perhaps, she doesn't mind.

MONDAY'S LESSONS

Study them well on Friday, For it's much the better way, Because when once they're finished You've all Saturday for play.

AT DINNER

No matter where we children are We run in answer to the bell, And dinner comes in piping hot; It makes us hungry just to smell.

Poor Father sharpens up his knife, And carves with all his might and main; But long before he's had a bite Our Willie's plate comes back again.

We eat our vegetables and meat, For Mother, who is always right, Says those who wish to have dessert, Must show they have an appetite.

And when a Sunday comes around, So very, very good we seem, You'd think 'most any one could tell That for dessert we'd have ice-cream.

VALOR.

BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS.

There isn't any giant Within this forest grim, And if there were, I wouldn't be A bit afraid of him!

A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY

BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS

My doll, my doll, my Annabel, She's really feeling far from well! Her wig is gone, her eyes are out, Her legs are left somewhere about, Her arms were stolen by the pup, The hens ate all her sawdust up, So all that's really left of her Is just her clothes and character.

THE CAPITALIST.

I always buy at the lollipop-shop, On the very first day of spring, A bag of marbles, a spinning-top, And a pocketful of string.