Buds and flowers of childish life

CHILDISH LIFE.

Here’s Emily, saying good night, O what a sweet little Miss! She’s not sleepy but dolly is quite, Come dear and give me a kiss.

She’s been running about all the day, She’s had tea with some jam on her bread, There’s a time both for tea and for play, And now it is time for her bed.

My little baby Is so very small That she can scarcely toddle, And can’t speak at all.

But she can stand a-tip-toe, If she can’t walk, And she can look at pictures, Though she can’t talk.

Come little baby, Sit on mother’s knee, She shall look at a pretty book, And then have tea.

Din, din, din, We’re ready to begin. We’re so hungry that we can’t wait.

O what a clatter Of spoon and platter! What’s Mary doing that she’s so late?

Drum, drum, drum, Now she’s come. Look at naughty Ned with his plate upon his head!

Din, din, din, Now we’ll begin. Mary brings the soup and father cuts the bread.

I am his mother, And he is your brother, There’s ne’er such another In all the world round.

His smile is the queerest, His eyes are the clearest, His face is the dearest, That ever were found.

This is my birthday, O what a mirth-day! And O how lucky I am! I have dollies and carts, I have eaten three tarts, And now here’s a big pot of jam.

Emma! just look, What a wonderful cook! Currant and raisin She puts in the basin, Only see how her hand throws in the flour.

Sugar and suet, She knows how to do it. Now then crumbs, Now more plums, She puts everything good into our Christmas pudding.

Eggs half a score, And many things more, Lemon-peel candied, And everything brandied, O what a treat it will be when completed.

O Fanny, dear Fanny, Make haste with the bed, My doll is so tired That she can’t raise her head.

Your doll is so old, She can sit up till eight, But mine is quite ill If she stays up so late.

We’ve set out the tea things, We’ve coffee and tea, There is no one to drink them But dolly and we.

We’ve muffins and crumpets, We’ve biscuit and cake, If no one will eat them, Our hearts they will break.

So I’ll go out this way, And you go out that, We will ask all our neighbours To come in and chat.

I have an apple, Which hand has got it? Left hand or right hand? No, Sir, that’s not it.

Now then, try again, Don’t look so grave, This or that, Sir, Which will you have?

Left or right, now, tell me quick? There’s either an apple or nothing for Dick.

Here’s master Jack, With his bag at his back, What do you think he is at? Two gay butterflies, With their wings full of eyes, He’s trying to catch in his hat.

The chaise is at the door my dear, Are you quite ready? How restive these new horses are! Now then--steady. Gee wo, gee wo.

Take care how you get in my dear, And mind our lovely child, It would only take a little thing To make these horses wild. Ge wo, gee wo.

Here’s little Freddy, He sits in his tub, He is quite ready To have a good rub. He is the little man for me Waiting there so patiently.

While master Harry Does nothing but squall, And says when he’s older He won’t wash at all. What a naughty little man Who will be dirty if he can.

Fast asleep lies little May With dolly on her breast, Tread gently as you come away, And don’t disturb her rest.

Her little soul it knows no fear, No thought of sin or sorrow, And God will take good care of her Until she wakes to-morrow.

Fanny loves, Her pretty doves, Fan, and Puff, and Plum, Cream and Brown, They flutter down, And all around her come. Coo, coo, How d’ye do? Quite well, thank you, how are you?

Those rude little boys, They do nothing but stare, As I ride through the snow In my pretty sledge chair.

My muff and my bonnet, They eye them all o’er, As though they had not seen A lady before.

Jack has pulled a tooth out, What a clever boy! He shall have a sixpence, Or a nice new toy.

Without doctor helping He loosened it so well, When he gave a great tug, On the ground it fell.

Maggie put it in the drawer, And when papa comes back, We’ll show it him, and he will say, “What a brave boy is Jack!”

The queen of the summer, She sits on her throne, And every new comer Her beauty must own.

Dick waits upon her, A minister sage, I’m maid of honour, And pussy’s her page.

Let’s have a game of play, But Jane sha’n’t come, She told of Walter Because he picked a plum.