The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wee babies

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Title: Wee babies

Author: Amy Ella Blanchard

Illustrator: Ida Waugh

Release date: March 31, 2025 [eBook #75765]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: E. P. Dutton & Co, 1882

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75765

Credits: David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEE BABIES ***

WEE BABIES

Dedicated to All

WEE BABIES

Babies short, and babies tall,

Babies big, and babies small,

Blue-eyed babies, babies fair,

Brown-eyed babes, with lots of hair,

Babies so tiny they can’t sit up,

Babies that drink from a silver cup,

Babies that coo and babies that creep,

Babies that only can eat and sleep,

Babies that laugh and babies that talk,

Babies quite big enough to walk.

Dimpled fingers, and dimpled feet,

What in the world is half so sweet

As babies that jump, laugh, cry, and crawl,

Eat, sleep, talk, walk, creep, coo, and all

Wee Babies?

Up you go baby, that’s the way—

Laugh little baby, laugh and play—

Little round dumpling, jump and coo,

Mother will answer, and laugh with you;

Dents, and dimples, and dear little feet,

My little baby is, oh, so sweet.

WEE BABIES

Printed in Colours from Original Designs

BY

IDA WAUGH

Poetry by AMY E. BLANCHARD

New York

E. P. DUTTON & CO.

39, WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET

London

GRIFFITH AND FARRAN

CORNER OF ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD

COPYRIGHT, 1882—E. P. DUTTON & CO.

TWINS.

Horace and Maurice were so like each other—

You hardly could tell the one from his brother.

If mama should say,“Now Ann, bring me Horace,”

Why, likely as not, she’d go and get Maurice,

The only difference between the two

Was Maurice had brown eyes, and Horace had blue.

Of course though, their mama could tell them apart,

For it was a matter so near to her heart,

And if we said, “Really I don’t know, I own,

Which one has the blue eyes, and which has the brown.”

Mama would say, “Dear me, I thought that you knew

That Maurice has brown eyes, and Horace has blue.”

IN MISCHIEF.

“What shall we do?” said Roland to Nell,

“For mama has gone away,

In mama’s room it’s quiet and still,

Let us go in there and play.”

So they softly opened mama’s door,

And quietly slipped inside.

“Now let us play we are mice,” said Nell,

“And get in the drawer and hide.”

At the bureau drawer they tugged and tugged

Until it was opened wide;

And then, oh dear, the dresses and things,

They scattered them all outside.

When mama came home, what did she see?

Ev’ry thing lying about,

The children that should be out were in,

What ought to be in was out.

“Mama, don’t scold,” said the children, “see

Haven’t we hided us nice?

We don’t know any better you know,

We are only little mice.”

Out of the window, from mama to auntie,

Just like a birdie she goes;

Up in the blue sky the cloud birds are flying,

Round her the fresh summer glows.

Woodbine and myrtle, and ruddiest roses;

Oh, the new summer is sweet.

Come, little birdie, the world is before you,

And summer lies fair at your feet.

Come, little baby girl, mama’s arms hold you,

Auntie will not let you fall;

Birdies are singing, come, let us go find them,

Flowers and sunshine, and all.

Down you go, down you go, out of the window,

Baby-bird learning to fly.

We will go, dainty one, out with the blossoms,

Come back again by and by.

OUT WALKING.

“Come Edith and Walter,” said Philip,

“I’ll take you out walking to-day,

We’ll gather some daises for mama,

And crown her the Queen of the May.”

“I know a nice place where we’ll find them,

Where bright yellow buttercups grow,

The daisies stand up all around them

The daisies that mama loves so.”

“I’ll take the best care of you children,

For mama says I’m quite a man,

She’ll trust me alone with you always,

She knows very well that she can.”

“So come, little sister and brother,

We won’t have to go very far,

And mama will say when she sees us,

What dear little children you are.”

JAM.

Let me tell you of Johnnie,

What do you think he did?

Went in his mama’s pantry

While she was there, and hid.

Mama went out and left him,

Didn’t know he was there,

Left on the shelf the jam pot,

Left by the shelf a chair.

When ev’ry thing was quiet,

Johnnie crept softly out,

Peeped in the bags and barrels,

Stood there and looked about.

Soon though, he spied the jam pot,

Here was a jolly treat,

In went the naughty fingers,

Johnnie began to eat.

Hands and face were all covered,

Dress was a perfect sight,

When Johnnie came from the pantry

You’d have thought it was pink, not white.

“It was so good,” said Johnnie,

Fingers are nice to lick,

If you had seen him that evening,

I think you’d have called him sick.

A RAINY DAY.

Rain, rain, rain,

Just see how it pours;

Drip, drip, drip,

Oh, how wet outdoors;

Freddie can’t go out to play,

It is such a rainy day.

Never mind the dripping rain.

Soon the sun will shine again.

Rain, rain, rain,

Just see how it pours;

Tears, tears, tears,

Is there rain indoors?

Why, my baby, do not cry,

There’ll be sunshine by and by.

Rain and teardrops both together,

Dearie, that makes dismal weather.

Let me see you smile again,

Maybe that will stop the rain.

SO SLEEPY.

What a sleepy little baby,

He can hardly lift his head,

Really he can’t eat his supper,

He would rather go to bed.

All the day long, patter, patter,

Go the busy little feet,

And when night comes, he’s so tired,

Herbert doesn’t want to eat.

In the morning bright and early,

Out he pokes his little head,

Like a darling downy birdie,

From his little nesty bed.

Then he says, “won’t wake dear mama,

I’ll just kiss her on the eyes,”

And he creeps on tip-toe softly

To the spot where mama lies.

Wakes her up with hugs and kisses,

Then begins his busy day,

From the morning to the evening

He does nothing else but play,

Till he is so very tired,

He can’t eat his milk and bread.

All that Herbert wants or cares for

Just now, is to go to bed.

BABY’S RIDE.

Oh, where do you think the baby is going

On Nurse’s apron? Blanche calls it a sleigh

And says, “We make believe it is snowing,

And ride through the snow drifts away, away.”

“We think, perhaps, we will go to Iceland,

To see an iceberg or great white bear,

We don’t know whether it is a nice land,

We’ll let you know when we get there.”

“There’s but one thing that we are afraid of,

There is but one thing about which we care,

For when you see what our sleigh is made of,

You will know we’re afraid that it might tear.”

LITTLE SOLDIER.

Ha-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho!

What a funny little soldier Harry is, oh,

My my my, dear dear dear,

Did ever any baby look so very queer?

Fanny laughs as loud as she can,

Ralph says, “See little soger man.”

Ha-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho!

Into what army does the baby want to go?

Rub-dub-dub, march away,

That’s the very tune he will want to hear some day;

He will play with a sword and gun,

He will fight till the battle’s done.

Ah-ah-ah! oh-ho-ho!

Only into mama’s army let the boys go;

Rub-dub-dub, drum, drum, drum,

Let me keep my baby boys always safe at home.

Wait, my brave soldiers, till quite men,

You can fight mama’s battles then.

NEIGHBOUR’S BABY.

Let us see the baby,

Tell us, what its name?

Isn’t it a darling!

Wonder when it came.

Let me kiss it Ellen

Let me see its toes,

What dear little fingers,

What a cunning nose.

How old is it Ellen?

Isn’t it a dear!

Ella, do they call it?

Where’s its other ear?

I would like to have one

For my very own,

When will it be able

To walk and talk alone?

CANDY.

One, two, five, four, just look at what a lot,

Such a many cannies, can’t hold all I’ve got.

Some belong to Leila, and some are mine, you see,

That’s what mama said when she gave ’em to me.

Got so many cannies, don’t know what to do.

Don’t know how to hold ’em, five, four, one and two.

Here are your one’s, Leila, now lets go and play,

Have a nice party, like we did yes-a-day.

Such nice little cannies, we have such a many,

If we eat ’em all up, then we won’t have any.

How many one’s have you left, five or two or four?

Now mine all are eated, wiss we had some more.

OUT SHOPPING.

What are we going to buy?

Silks, and ribbons, and gloves,

Laces, and bonnets, say I,

But candy Georgie loves.

Where do you think are the shops?

Down by the garden wall.

Georgie shall have peppermint drops,

And I’ll have an India shawl.

THE PICTURE BOOK.

Wonderful pictures the children see,

Howard, and Marie, and Kitty,

You will say when you look at the three

They must think the pictures pretty.

Wonderful pictures all of them see,

Birds, and flowers, and people,

Soldiers all marching so gallantly,

A church with a great high steeple.

Wonderful pictures all of us see,

Pictures the whole world over.

Look in my eyes, dear one, and tell me,

What picture you can discover.

A wonderful picture is near to me.

Cannot you find it, my dearie?

Look in the glass, I am sure you will see

One of which I never weary.

THE RACE.

Who can run fastest Lily or Rose?

Take care, my babies, mind your wee toes,

Come little toddlekins, now let me see,

Who’ll be the first one to get to me.

Catch, catch who can, don’t tumble, don’t fall,

That you know, dearies, would not do at all.

Lily’s ahead, hurry up, Rosy,

Don’t fall, dearie, and bump your nosey.

Patter on, patter on, little feet,

Both of my horses are very fleet.

Which ever baby girl wins the race,

There will be smiles on each little face.

Both at once, come along, that’s the way,

Here you are, which was the first one, say?

I’m sure I don’t see how I can tell,

For both little children did so well.

THE BATTLE.

Oh, naughty, naughty, naughty,

To knock the baby down,

Oh, what a dreadful temper!

Oh, what an ugly frown!

Why did you do it, Willie?

It wasn’t brave at all,

The baby knows no better

Because he is so small.

He only thought it funny

To overturn your blocks,

You shouldn’t mind, my Willie;

His little playful knocks.

I want my Willie dearie,

To be a little man,

Be kind to little brother,

And gentle as you can.

DINAH’S BABY.

Who is this funny little mite,

With woolly head, and eyes so bright,

That stares about at every sight?

I wonder why it isn’t white,

Dinah’s Baby.

My mamma has a baby too,

But mamma’s baby’s eyes are blue.

I think it’s funny—wish I knew

Why it doesn’t look like you,

Dinah’s Baby.

LISTENING FOR SANTA CLAUS.

Something is up the chimney,

Scratching and making a noise,

Carl thinks it’s Santa Claus coming,

To bring him some nice new toys.

He wrote a letter this morning,

Then went to the fire-place

And poked it up the chimney

With smiles on his little face.

“Santa Claus come,” he whispered.

“Here is a letter for you,”

“I want a nice new waggon,

So bad, don’t know what to do.”

“Santa Claus, I’m a good boy,

I don’t cry all the day,

I want to see your reindeers,

And your great, big, buful sleigh.”

“Is that you up the chimney

Scratching that funny way?

Did you come for my letter?

Please Mr. Santa Claus say.”

Santa Claus didn’t answer,

But Carl believes he heard

And will bring him all he asked for

Because he sent him word.

HOOP-LA!

Hoop-la! Hoop-la!

Oh, what lots of fun,

Rodman is the circus man,

That makes the horses run.

Hoop-la! Hoop-la!

Jeannette is going through,

Rodman holds the hoop for her,

That’s the way they do.

Hoop-la! Hoop-la!

What a dashing horse,

We would like to watch it go

Round again, of course.

Hoop-la! Hoop-la!

Who’s the second one?

Jeannette must go round again.

And then the play is done.

PAPA’S DINNER.

Through the grassy meadows,

Betty, Kate, and Ray,

Carry papa’s dinner,

While he rakes the hay.

Round about the flowers,

Hums a busy bee,

Busy birds are feeding

Hungry birdies wee.

Busy in the hay-field,

Papa rakes the hay,

Ready for his dinner,

It is high noon-day.

“Hear the roosters crowing,

Twelve o’clock,” says Ray,

“Yes, indeed,” says Katie,

“That is what they say.”

“Papa will be waiting,

Hungry too, I know,

Hurry little brother,

We must not walk slow.”

So they go to papa,

Through the sweet new hay.

When he eats his dinner,

Home again go they.

DREAM-LAND.

Where has my dear little baby gone?

Gone off to sleepy-land all alone.

What will my dear little baby do?

Play with the dreams, and laugh at them too.

Over in sleepy-land, over and under,

Dreams chase each other away,

Over in dream-land, sleepy eyes wonder,

To see all the dreams at play.

Sleepy-land, dream-land,

Dream-land, sleepy-land,

Dear little baby has gone.

GERTRUDE’S WALK.

Janey is taking Gertrude to walk,

Round her the butterflies hover,

Leaves clap their hands when she comes their way,

The faint blowing breezes love her.

Dear little Gertrude, so happy she,

Oh, what should we do without her,

The soft blue sky is over her head,

Blossoms are blooming about her.

Glad little face, and wondering eyes,

Baby, there’s so much before you.

Even the roses look as if they

Said, “Don’t you know we adore you.”

You are a rosebud, you baby sweet,

No wonder the roses love you,

No wonder the birdies fly so near,

To sing in the trees above you.

The birds, the breezes, the butterflies,

Roses, and violets blue, dear,

They all were made for the babies wee,

And so they belong to you, dear.

COME TO HUGH.

One, two, three,

Let me see,

If little sister

Can come to me.

There you go,

That’s it—so.

Don’t fall Lulu,

Only walk slow.

One step, two,

There I knew.

Don’t be afraid,

Come here to Hugh.

Thought you could,

If you would,

Mama’ll be glad.

Here she comes, good.

PEEP-BO!

Where is Douglas? Where has he gone?

Does anybody know?

I’m very sure that he was here

Just a moment ago.

Where is Douglas? I wonder where.

Can anybody tell?

He’s gone away, to stay a while,

I know it very well.

Where is Douglas? He is not here.

Wherever can he be!

He must have gone to Bye-lo-land,

I’ll have to go and see.

PEEP-BO!

Where is Douglas? Where can he be!

He keeps so very still,

I’ll have to look behind the door.

No, I don’t think I will.

Where is Douglas? Under the bed?

Hid in the big arm chair?

Gone to sleep with the kitty cat?

Where can he be! oh, where!

There is Douglas, why there he is,

To think I didn’t know.

Peep-bo, dearie, I see you now.

Peep-bo, Douglas. Peep-bo!

SPILT MILK.

Oh, you naughty little man,

Come away from that milk pan,

Mustn’t touch, bad boy, no, no,

You must mind when I say so.

But you want it, yes, I know,

You must wait until you grow

Big like papa, then you can

Look at ev’ry dish and pan.

Little prying fingers near,

Little eyes that peep and peer,

Into ev’ry drawer and nook,

Basket, box, and shelf, and book.

Now you’ve done it, oh, dear me!

See how naughty you can be,

Spilt the milk and drenched yourself,

I must find a higher shelf.

Don’t cry, darling, never mind,

Mama will not be unkind,

Little frightened darling man,

Mama’ll whip that old milk pan.

COME AND PLAY.

“I wiss you’d come play wif me, Milly,

I’se tired of playing alone,

Det down now, and let us be horses,

’Oo shall have my new reins for ’oo own.”

“Go ’way, I don’t want to, I feel bad.

I want sister rock me by-bye,

I’se tired of being a horsey,

Go ’way, if ’oo don’t I will kwy.”

RUNNING AWAY.

Where are you going, my little man?

Running away just as fast as you can—

Babies are little, and babies will fall

If babies run fast, when babies are small.

Oh, the world is stormy and rough,

You’ll find it out, dear, soon enough,

Tender, wee feet will be hurt on the road,

Dear little heart will ache under its load.

Stay at home, darling, the world is so cold,

’Twill frown on you, baby, because it is old,

Warm is the home nest, my brave little man,

Let mother’s arms keep you, dear heart, while they can.

A PENNY FOR YOU.

Here is a penny for you, little girl,

Because the nice music came round,

I stood by the window a long long time,

And heard what the hand organ ground.

Is it your papa who grinds out the tunes?

And plays so I dance tippy toe?

Tell him I think he’s a nice music man.

I don’t want him ever to go.

Tell him to come back to-morrow day too,

I’d like him to come every day,

I’ll take all the pennies from my little bank,

And give them to him, if he’ll play.

LITTLE MAMA.

What a little bit of a mama,

How very small she has grown,

And yet, see the train and the bonnet,

Why, they’re mama’s very own.

The eyes, too, are surely like mama’s,

The smile is like mama’s too;

Do you look so like mama, Baby?

Or does mama look like you?

THE LITTLE BARBER.

And here is our friend Mr. Razorstrop,

Cutting Miss Daisy’s hair,

She said she was tired of wearing taup,

And curls she could not bear.

She never could see why people need have

Hair all over their eyes,

It’s such a trouble to have it combed out,

She nearly always cries.

So Louise said, “I’m Mr. Razorstrop,

I’ll make a boy of you,

I’ll cut off your hair, and then you can wear,

Trousers and jackets too.”

“Ah, that will be nice,” said Daisy, “What fun

To be a boy like Guy,

I’ll play marbles and tops, I’ll climb and run,

And stay out doors, won’t I?”

But when it was done, she suddenly thought,

“Mama won’t have any girls,

For Guy’s a boy, and Percy’s a boy,

What shall I do for curls?”

Her cousin Louise said, “Never you mind,

Perhaps we can tie them on,

And if you say you’re truly a girl,

Your mama won’t think they’re gone.”

DON’T CRY.

Don’t cry, p’ease don’t cry,

Mama’ll soon be here—

Did ’oo fall and bump ’oo head?

Don’t cry, Arty dear.

Don’t cry, never mind,

Quick as ’oo can tell

Mama’ll come and kiss the place,

That will make it well.

Don’t cry, it’s too bad—

I so sorry too,

If I kiss ’oo five, two times,

Maybe that will do.

Don’t cry, Arty dear,

’Oo s’all have my ball,

’Oo s’all have my picture book,

Or anysing at all.

THE NEW BABY.

My very own little sister,

Isn’t she bright,

For such a mite?

She is so wee,

I wonder if she

Would cry, and scream, if I kissed her.

Say, will she break if I hold her?

How queer that some day

She’ll learn how to say,

Twice two are four—

And many things more—

And go to school when she’s older.

Fancy those tiny feet running.

Isn’t it queer

To think she is here?

To think she will grow?

I’d just like to know

What does make babies so cunning.

ROBERT.

Robert sits up with his rattle and toys,

Making a beautiful jingling noise.

So little he is, he doesn’t yet know

Which is the way that his hands ought to go.

Robert’s a darling, and Robert’s a dear,

He is so cunning, and he is so queer,

Tries to eat fingers, and talks to the light,

Doesn’t quite know the day from the night.

Rattles, and spool-chains, and round rubber rings,

Kissings and jumpings, and such kind of things,

Laughing, and cooing, and kicking his toes,

This is about all that baby Rob knows.

Bobbity-bobbity goes Robert’s head,

When mama carries him off to his bed.

Google-goo-goo—that is all he can say,

He’ll know just as much as you some day.

BYE-LO-BABY.

Go to sleep my little dolly,

Shut your eyes and don’t you cry,

I’ll not leave you, baby darling,

Till you have gone sleepy-bye.

Never mind you other dollies,

You all have your turn, you know,

You must all be good and patient,

Soon to dream-land you shall go.

Go to sleep my precious baby,

Let me think what mama sings,

All about the stars, and lammies,

By-lo-land and lots of things.

By-lo-by-lo hush my darling,

Don’t you cry now any more,

If you don’t behave much better

I will put you on the floor.

There, at last she’s shut her eyes up,

Polly Snooks, now come to me,

I know, when you’ve been so quiet,

Just how sleepy you must be.

IN THE PARK.

“Good-morning, mistress Mary Ann,

It’s very fine the day.”

“Good-morning, Misther Mulligan

What did you come for, pray?”

“And is it that you ask me now?

I couldn’t kape away.”

“I only brought the childaren sur

Into the park to play,

And I must have an eye to them,

What have you, sur, to say?”

“Oh, I have much to say to you

If you will let me stay.”

NICE DOGGIE.

Isn’t he dear little doggie!

I don’t believe he could bite,

I love him a whole big armful,

And hug him with all my might.

He goes to bed just when I do,

Lies close to my feet all night,

He licks my face in the morning,

To wake me up when it’s light.

And when he asks for his breakfast,

His dear little tail just wags,

We both love each other dearly,

I’ll tell you his name—it’s Rags.

HOBBY HORSE.

Get up! horsey bonny,

Who is on your back?

Don’t you know your master?

Your little master Jack?

Go along! you horsey,

Trot, trot hard, I say,

If you don’t go faster,

You won’t get home to-day.

Go along! you Pompey,

Gallop, gallop, go,

Jack will have to whip you,

If you will go so slow.

Get up! get up! Pompey,

That’s a good old horse,

Does your master love you,

Why, certainly, of course.

LULLABY.

Wide awake! wide awake! baby’s so wide awake,

What can I bring that will lull her to rest?

Poppies from Flowerland,

Raindrops from Showerland,

Silent slow shadows that creep up the west.

Laughings, and cooings, oh what roguish doings,

Why this is sleepy-time, baby, you know.

What can I bring to her?

What can I sing to her?

So that my baby to dreamland may go.

Lullaby, lullaby, sing a song dull, oh bye

Bye little baby, now shut up your eyes,

Moon shadowed now’s the land,

Dreams come from drowsy land,

Droop dreamy eyelids and lie sleepy wise.

IN THE CORNER.

Little Molly in the corner

Cause she wasn’t good,

Threw her spoon across the table,

On the floor her food.

Said she didn’t want her supper,

Only pie would do,

Then her mama said, “My girlie,

Pie’s not good for you.”

“But I want it, want it, want it,”

Naughty Molly said,

Then right down upon the carpet,

Threw her piece of bread.

“Oh how naughty,” said her papa,

“Does my girl act so?

This is not my Molly, surely,

She has gone I know.”

“Tell me where’s my little daughter?

Won’t she be here soon?”

Then across the table, Molly

Threw her fork and spoon.

“Take away this girl,” said Papa,

“To the corner quick,”

“You had better not,” said Molly,

“I will scream and kick.”

Molly, Molly, naughty Molly,

There she had to stay,

Till her papa ate his supper,

Then he went away.

Then, poor, sorry Molly whispered,

“If you only would,

Let me come out now, dear mama

’Deed I will be good.”

SOON BE READY.

Now Malcolm will soon be quite ready

To go see his grandmama dear,

I know she will be very happy

To have her wee baby so near.

And what will he take to his grandma?

Says he, “Nursey, what shall I take?”

“And what would you like to?” says nursey,

Says Malcolm, “I’ll take her a cake.”

“I fear you will eat it,” says nursey;

Says Malcolm, “I ’fraid I will too;

Then maybe I’ll take her some candy,

I think candy’s nicer, don’t you?”

“Can’t you think of anything better?”

Says he, “Then I’ll take her a fiss,”

“Oh, fishes aren’t nice, are they, Malcolm?”

Says he, “Then I’ll take her a kiss.”

SELFISHNESS.

Two cakes has Clarence, and Carrie has none,

Isn’t that too bad? She ought to have one.

Oh selfish Clarence, say what shall we do?

Both cakes I think should be taken from you.

How would you like it, if Carrie should take

Both of them from you, and leave you no cake?

How would you like it if mama should say,

Carrie shall have all the cookies to-day?

Be generous babies, ’tis better by far,

There’s so much more love for you, dears, when you are,

You want to be loved, don’t you, darlings? Well then,

Don’t grow up to be selfish women and men.

SO TIRED.

P’ease come mama to your baby,

I so tired what to do,

’Tant find any one to take me,

No one loves me nice like ’oo.

Don’t know how to fix my horsey,

Want my bib, and b’ead and mi’k,

I so s’eepy, I so hung’y,

Wiss you’d come and take me quick.

Me don’t like to ’tay wiss ’Mely,

Wiss my mama wouldn’t ’tay,

Don’t want her to leave her baby

Any more so all ’e day.

GOOD-NIGHT, MAMA.

Please, dear mama, one kiss—no, two—

Ah, dear mama, we do love you.

Dear little ones, that hate to go,

Saying “Mama, we love you so.

Good-night, mama.”

Soft little arms that clasp so tight,

Soft rosy lips that kiss good-night,

Quite bare feet that patter to bed,

When at last the babies have said

Good-night, mama.

NOW I LAY ME.

Folded hands so soft and white,

Baby kneels at mama’s knee;

Gleams the flick’ring firelight

On his face and golden hair.

“Ev’rybody hush,” says he,

“Baby wants to say his prayer.”

“Now I lay me down to sleep,

Tell me if I say it right,

I can’t ’member ‘soul to keep’;

I’m so sleepy on my knees,

I can only say to-night,

God bless ev’rybody please.”

GOOD-NIGHT.

In the sky the stars are peeping,

And the moon is shining bright,

O’er the world a watch they’re keeping;

Babies dear, Good-night!

Downy baby birds are resting

Hidden safely from the light,

Under mother’s wings they’re nesting,

Baby birds, Good-night!

Little lambs are warm and quiet,

Little lammies, soft and white,

With their mothers close beside them,

Baby lambs, Good-night.

Bees and butterflies are sleeping,

Folded wings no more take flight

Folded they, until the morrow,

Butterflies, Good-night.

Baby buds have gently wrapped them

In their tinted petals bright,

Shut their eyes, the wind will rock them.

Baby buds, Good-night.

Over all the dear good angels,

Holy angels, pure and white,

Watch the little ones that slumber,

Babies all, Good-night.

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Table of Contents

WEE BABIES

Dedicated to All WEE BABIES

Twins.

In Mischief.

Out Walking.

Jam.

A Rainy Day.

So Sleepy.

Baby’s Ride.

Little Soldier.

Neighbour’s Baby.

Candy.

Out Shopping.

The Picture Book.

The Race.

The Battle.

Dinah’s Baby.

Listening for Santa Claus.

Hoop-La!

Papa’s Dinner.

Dream-land.

Gertrude’s Walk.

Come to Hugh.

Peep-Bo!

Peep-Bo!

Spilt Milk.

Come and Play.

Running Away.

A Penny for You.

Little Mama.

The Little Barber.

Don’t Cry.

The New Baby.

Robert.

Bye-Lo-Baby.

In the Park.

Nice Doggie.

Hobby Horse.

Lullaby.

In the Corner.

Soon be Ready.

Selfishness.

So Tired.

Good-Night, Mama.

Now I Lay Me.

Good-Night.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE