PS 3503 
 .R26 G7 
 1899 
 Copy 1 
 
 i'^4'^k I 
 
 (r^-^ 
 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap. Copyrightlo. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
> 
 
GRANDMA TALES 
 AND OTHERS, 
 
GRANDMA TALES 
 
 AND OTHERS 
 
 ADELIA POPE-BRANHAM 
 
 Illustrations 
 
 by 
 
 WILL VAWTER 
 
 Greenfield, Indiana. 
 1899 
 
 ■^ 
 
41821 
 
 Copyright, 1899 
 
 by 
 
 Aclelia Pope-Branham 
 
 TWOCO'*'^'^ K»€CeiVEO. 
 
 •eCOND COPY 
 
 V\ o o ^ 
 
 Ck/^ 
 
 . iSb. ^^ 
 
TO 
 
 THE GDANDBABIES EVEDYWHEKL 
 
Herald Pub. Co. Press. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 When (tkan'ma was a Little (tUrl 1 
 
 Grandma's Littek Heeper 8 
 
 ToNeei 9 
 
 Half Past Three 10 
 
 War in N urse ry vi l l e 13 
 
 Cradle Song in 
 
 MyDouMose 17 
 
 The Christ-Child 22 
 
 Not Lon(4 A(^() 21 
 
 My Treasure 2() 
 
 Our Reueptk )N 27 
 
 S UNN Y Eyes 30 
 
 The Orchard Carnival 31 
 
 Sunrise on the Atlantic 38 
 
 Ch ristm as Ret r( )SPEC^r 40 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 When (Iran'ma was a Little (jurl— Title 1 
 
 'Tth Me an' Gran' pa Settin' in His Grea' Bhi Ole 
 
 AiLNi Chair— Tailpiece 7 
 
 Rocks and Sincs in the Tiny Arm Chair 11 ^ 
 
 But He Could Run th' Chickens; 'at is ef They 
 
 Run Furst 19^ 
 
 She Just Couldn't Pick Up Toys 21 
 
 An' Pored th' Milk to th' Cat— Tailpiece 29 
 
 And Now the Lengthenl\(^ Shadows Stretch 35'^ 
 
 And Down thl (Ihimxey 1)r()ppin(^ 40 
 
'^ij^^^'- 
 
 I'VE coDie down here at Grau'ina's hoiiHe, to stay all 
 
 summer long ; 
 To breathe th' freshest country air, an' hear th' robin's 
 
 song. 
 My Gran'pa says 'at I can work, an' he'p hini plant 
 
 th' crop — 
 I'll ride up on th' grea' big drill, an' watch th' seed-coin 
 
 drop. 
 We o'it up awful early, an' eat breakfas' 'fore it's lijj'ht, 
 Have nice brown ham, an' honey, an' hot biscuit ist so 
 
 white! 
 
WHEN (IKAN'MA was A LITTLE (^LRL. 
 
 I don't wear rutfied aperiis now— but one made out o' 
 
 blue 
 'At don't iron hard er muss up (]uiek— Gran'ma thinks, 
 
 do 3^ou? 
 She thinks we l)etter plat my hair in one long shiny 
 
 braid — 
 
 Like th' story chiidrnn wears 'em, in stories Gran'ma 
 
 made 
 
 Down at Gran 'ma's house. 
 
 Gran'ma says 'at longtime ago, when she's a little gurl, 
 Her ma ist breshed her \\n\v as smooth, and never made 
 
 no curl 
 Ner pinned it up in rags at night, afore she went to bed; 
 Like scarry horns abobbin'roun' on little gurlses head. 
 She al'ays rose at four o'clock ; her ma she never called 
 " Now hurry down to breakfas'," fer my Gran'ma never 
 
 bawled 
 'Cause she was so awful sleepy, an' wanted a nuther nap; 
 W'y, ef she had, her ma ist go ri^ht straight an' tell 
 
 'er pap! 
 
 She hurried u]) right out 'o'bed an' made it all up (piick, 
 
 An' swe])' an' dusted off 'er room, and shined things up 
 
 as slick I 
 
 'At's what (iran'ma says. 
 
 4 
 
whp:n gkan ma was a little uukl. 
 
 Neil she 'ud clear tli' table off, an' wash th' dishes up, 
 (She never broke a single thing- — ner even chinked a 
 
 cup.) 
 An' nen she'd take an' shell some corn, an' git a tin 
 
 o' wheat 
 To feed th' ole dom'nec hens, 'at 'ud al'a.ys try to cheat 
 By liidin' their eggs up in th' lof, 'mongst th' clover 
 
 hay — 
 An' Gran'ma 'ud have to hunt an' hunt, to find 'em 
 
 ev'ry day! 
 When mos' th' work was all done up, her ma she'd let 
 
 'er knit 
 'Ith four long shin^^ needles 'at she never lost a bit. 
 She had to mind th' baby, too, ('at's my great Cncle 
 
 Lynn,) 
 An' he'p her mother a-keepin' house — sew, an' weave 
 
 an' spin. 
 
 'At's what Gran'ma done. 
 
 She had a wheel, too — not like mine; her's wasn't meant 
 
 to ride. 
 Its pedals was called '"'hackles," an' they wouldn't turn, 
 
 beside. 
 
 5 
 
WHKN URAX MA WAS A LITTLE UUKL. 
 
 It had " windin' blades" an' "filen," but it had no rub- 
 ber tire, 
 
 She -lows it weaved the finest cloth, ist fit fer any Squire. 
 
 Nen Gran'ma sighs in pity fer these '^degenerated'' days, 
 
 AVhen folks don't have nice manners, ner th' childrun 
 purty ways; 
 
 'Cause they al'ays make such racket— an' don't know 
 72 on to work. 
 
 \i they talks too much "in comp'ny," my Gran'ma 
 says it's ''pert." 
 
 AA''y,,i>'oor/ gurJs mustn't " interrupt "—ist hardly speak 
 a word; 
 
 But set RS still, where they is ''seen, but never, never 
 herirrir 
 
 'At's what Gran'ma thinks. 
 
 I'm awful glad I wasn't borned when Gran 'ma's little 
 
 maid; 
 'Cause I'd a had to be .so good, an' work some, too, I'm 
 
 'fraid. 
 An' have a wheel of Forty -two— instead o' Ninety -nine ; 
 'At style bicycle is hard to run — ain't a bit like mine. 
 But I ist love th' stories all 'bout days o' "pioneer," 
 'At Gran'pa an' Gran'ma talks about, when night's a 
 
 drawin' near. 
 
 6 
 
WHEN (4KAN MA WAS A LITTLE (URL. 
 
 'Itli me an' Gran'pa settiii'iii hisgrea'big ole armchair, 
 Ai]' Gran'ma rockin' o-eiitly by th' wiiirlow, over there 
 Where tli' honeysuckle vine, 'ith its dress all fringed in 
 
 red — 
 Is a-watchin' ^Irs. Moon put her baby stars to bed. 
 Guess th' Sand Man mus' be comin', to stop th* birdies 
 
 cheep — 
 And carry Beth to Slumberland— for now she's fast 
 
 asleep 
 
 •There on Gran 'pa's knee. 
 
GRANDMA'S LITTLE HELPP:R. 
 
 TANGLED mass of fair cnrls streaming', 
 Brown eves full of mischief gleaming-, 
 Face with loving aid now beaming — 
 Grandma's little helper. 
 
 Busy lingers swiftly flying, 
 As the needle bright is plying. 
 Through the seam so long and trj- ing — 
 Grandma's little helper. 
 
 AVilling feet on errands going. 
 Heart with happiness o'erfiowing, 
 Deeds of loving service sowing — 
 Grandma's little helper. 
 
 Tender Shepherd safely guiding, 
 All the lambs from danger hiding. 
 In His watchful care abiding — 
 
 Grandma's httle helper. 
 
 8 
 
TO NELL. 
 
 ONE very frosty morning — 
 
 Nine yearn aoo today— 
 A tiny dimpled baby 
 
 Came down with us to stay. 
 She brought both joy and sunshine, 
 
 (Entwined with many a yell,) 
 But she failed to bring her card, 
 So we 
 
 Called 
 
 Her 
 
 Nell. 
 
 Old Time, so swiftly fleeting, 
 Soon took this babe away; 
 And left a busy school girl, 
 
 Whose birthday comes today. 
 May life be hi led with blessings — 
 
 From good deeds done, we pray — 
 For our happy little maid, 
 Who counts 
 
 Nine 
 
 Years 
 
 Today. 
 January (5th, 1<S9S. 
 
 9 
 
HALF PAST THRP:E. 
 
 DEAR little maid of half-past three, 
 What Atorlds of beauty lie liid from view? 
 Tell me, why do you keep 
 Such wme secrets, sweet, 
 Behind clear eyes of azure hue? 
 While we long to fathom the mystery, 
 And read a page of child history. 
 
 Wise little maid of half-past three. 
 What knowledge fills 3- our mind so pure? 
 Is it deep baby lore 
 Gleaned from heaven's store? 
 Brought from above our hearts to allure 
 To purer thoughts: more true to be 
 To that higher life, as shown by thee? 
 
 Wee, sweet mother of half-past three. 
 Rocks and sings in the tiny arm chair; 
 Low, soft lullabies 
 To the doll that "cries' — 
 Tending your "children" with patient care. 
 May guardian angels watch over thee— 
 Dear little maid of half -past three. 
 10 
 
WAR IN MJRSERYYILLE. 
 
 ONE morning, on the nnrsery fioor, 
 
 Transpired a dreadful scene! 
 When animals began to ponr 
 
 From cages, red and green. 
 The elephant of calico, 
 
 And chocolate mice of brown, 
 AVere racing madly to and fro; 
 
 (It (]nite upset this town.) 
 
 A roly-poly woolen dog- 
 That wobbled off to hide — 
 
 Stepped on a plaster-paris frog, 
 AVho then began to chide. 
 
 The green glass turtle, Avith a lurch, 
 Retired into its shell; 
 
 A stuffed poll-parrot from her perch, 
 Sent forth a mighty yell! 
 18 
 
WAR IX NLRSERYVILLE. 
 
 A canton flannel polar bear, 
 
 Glared at the camel tall. 
 (They formed the most ungainly pair 
 
 That added to this squall.) 
 The mettlesome white hobby-horse, 
 
 Ran off in reckless haste, 
 Nor stopped to feel the least remorse. 
 
 But onward quickly paced. 
 
 Each one then tried with all his might. 
 
 To (]uell this awful strife; 
 They wished to end the naughty fight, 
 
 With which the air was rife. 
 The candy rooster (Shanghai breed) 
 
 Flew on the monkey's back, 
 And crowed advice they would not heed, 
 
 ('Twas feared his throat would crack.) 
 
 "Dear me!" meowed Mistress Tabby Cat, 
 (In gingham neatly dressed,) 
 
 "I think I'll go and have a nap; 
 My nerves are quite depressed." 
 14 
 
WAR IN NT KSEKYVILLE. 
 
 Just then a merry brownie-band, 
 Had chanced to pass that way; 
 
 '•Ho ! Ho !'' they cried, "well lend a hand 
 To sto]) this shocking fray." 
 
 Lead soldiers then were called to arms! 
 
 (In magisterial pride.) 
 Fnll conscious of their war-like charms, 
 
 They marched, with haughty stride, 
 To rat-tat-tat of rubber drums— 
 
 With flashing tinsel sword 
 To aid their deadly wooden guns — 
 
 Sweet peace they soon restored. 
 
 15 
 
CRADLE SONG. 
 
 SOFT and low the Vesper bell, 
 
 Sounds its dreamy tinkle; 
 Where the goo-goo fairies dwell, 
 
 Neath the star's clear twinkle. 
 Toward the land of hush-a-by, 
 
 Babies now are flocking; 
 Where the slumber-elves' low sigh 
 
 Sets the cradle rocking. 
 
 Fluffy bird-kins all asleep— 
 
 In their nests so cos^^; 
 While the cricket's drowsy cheep, 
 
 Echoes dull and prosy. 
 Fireflies light their evening lamyjs; 
 
 Katydids are chiding — 
 Down among their mossy camps, 
 
 Daisy -buds are hiding. 
 
 Goldie locks and curls of brown — 
 Lads and lassies, all go 
 
 Tripping off to Bedford Town — 
 On the river by-low. 
 
 From the cloud-ships, sailing high- 
 Floats a dreamy measure; 
 
 Sleepy goo-goo's lullaby, 
 Mother's dearest treasure. 
 16 
 
I\IY DOd MOSE. 
 
 ONE time when I's a little bov — eight yearh^old er less — 
 I'm goiii' ou ten now, an' my (Iran'pa says he guess 
 I'll soon l)e growed big enuff to work out on his farm- 
 Plow an' horry, an' pitch th' hay, an' chore roun' th' 
 
 barn. 
 Nen he'll (juit an' rest a spell— set in th' shade all day— 
 An' make us mf^n kee]) busy; an' Ijoss roun' that-a-\vay. 
 
 Wy, nen my Gran'pa gived me th' brownest curly pup — 
 ('At time I staid at his house before our school took up.) 
 He Avas ist th' smartest dog, as smart, now you kin bet. 
 As these 'ere high-toned Span-u-els, er a pesky Set- 
 Ter pup, 'at stalks roun' 'ith his nose stuck in the air, 
 Actin' like he owns th' erth, an' folks a-livin' there. 
 
 17 
 
MY I)()(l MOSE. 
 
 Now, wy dog's niightj modest — ain't mean enuff to fight; 
 When grea' big dogs 'ud wrangle, he'd up an' run, tlmt 
 
 tight! 
 Nen boys 'ud say he's coward, an' knowed he couldn't 
 
 whup, 
 So runs 'Avay an' hides hise'f, behin' the chicken coop. 
 But he could run th' chickens; 'at is, ef they run furst— 
 Scare 'em offen Gran'ma's porch — an' bark ist fit to 
 
 burst! 
 
 Gran'ma 'lows he's no 'count, (;ause he's al'ays in her 
 
 way; 
 W'y, onct he et up all th' creRiii, when Comp'ny's there, 
 
 one day! 
 An' tlmt per yoked my (irran'ma, so she ist maked me 
 
 histe 
 Mose out to our own quarters, an' called him bench 
 
 legged flste. 
 An' nen she says, "Law, honey, I didn't mean no harm. 
 But you an' Mose run off an' play— out there by th' 
 
 barn." 
 
 (Jne time Gran'ma an' me an' Beth, an' Gran 'pa, went 
 
 to church. 
 Furst, Gran'pa says, "Now, my dog, we'll leave you in 
 
 the lurch." 
 
 18 
 
:MY ])()(! MOSE. 
 
 He iiiaked Mose stay there, too ! ist as quiet as can be; 
 All' he drove off to meetin', 'ith Graii'ma an' Beth an' me. 
 But when th' choir was singin' 'bout "Moses an' th' 
 
 lam'," 
 We heard a jolly little bark — an' up the aisle he ran. 
 
 Th' tickledest dog was Moses, fer he thought they's 
 
 callin' him — 
 He barked right through th' singin' — it maked a rnvful 
 
 din! 
 People all appeared that shocked— but smiled behin' 
 
 their books — 
 Beth, she giggled right out loud, in spite of Gran'ma's 
 
 looks! 
 Now, don't you think he's mighty cute, to go to church 
 
 that w ay ? 
 W'y, a snmrter dog than Moses, you can't find any 
 
 day. 
 
 21 
 
THE CHRIST CHILD. 
 
 HE was born, this prmoiis Christ-Child. 
 
 In a man^'er, cradled h)w; 
 While the morning stars were shining, 
 
 And the workl was white with snow. 
 
 For He came with Christmas blessings, 
 Joy, good will, sweet peace to know; — 
 
 All came with this bonny baby. 
 Who was born so long ago. 
 
 Among the hills of old Judea, 
 Shepherds, watching by their flock, 
 
 Saw the star, and heard the singing- 
 Hovering o'er that lowly cot. 
 
 22 
 
thp: cHinsT child. 
 
 Joyful hosts of baby aDgels, 
 Came to greet their tiny King; 
 
 And they made the air of heaven, 
 AVith their glad hosannas ring. 
 
 And the Wise men brought Him presents, — 
 
 Laid them at the dimpled feet, 
 Which so soon must tread earth's pathway ;- 
 
 AVith all human sorrows meet. 
 
 He must do the work He came for, 
 
 Live a perfect life below; 
 Teaching man the way to heaven. 
 
 And with "ood seed all earth sow. 
 
 As our children count the presents, — 
 Loving hands have made for them. 
 
 Do they think of that first Christmas, 
 And the Gift from Bethlehem? 
 
 23 
 
#^-. 
 
 k 
 
 ~J^ 
 
 NOT LONG AGO. 
 
 ONCE there was a little girl- 
 Not long- ago; 
 
 And she had a sunny curl, 
 Hung- just so. 
 
 But sometimes this little maid 
 
 Would in mischief deeply wade; 
 
 Was quite naughty, I'm afraid- 
 Not long ago. 
 24 
 
NOT I.()X(i AGO. 
 
 Now this little girl, we'i-e told, 
 
 Not long ago— 
 At her duties oft would scold; 
 
 Was that so? 
 vShe just coulcVnt pick up toys, 
 And there was such fan in noise! 
 Lessons never were her joys— 
 
 Not long ago. 
 
 Have you met this little girl. 
 
 Where you go? 
 Does she keep things in a whirl, 
 
 Do you know? 
 I'm quite sure she is not yoiu 
 Who are gentle, kind and trne— 
 Always know just what to do. 
 
 Not long ago. 
 
 25 
 
MY TREASURE. 
 
 A WEE (Hiiipled hand clasped closely iu mine, 
 
 Together, my baby and I 
 Have journeyed one year, through life's sunny clime. 
 
 In the land of sweet lullaby. 
 No day more perfect — no task half so sweet, 
 As guiding the footsteps of toddling feet. 
 
 One short year of lii^ht — then the sun went down: 
 
 Ah, me; life seems weary and long, 
 When viewed from across a small grassy mound, 
 
 In place of the once cradle song. 
 But God has covered with blanket of green. 
 The dear little form — a mother's lost dream. 
 
 Two sweet waxen hands are folded so white, 
 O'er lilies, with one broken stem. 
 
 The blue e^^es have opened on heaven's clear light- 
 Resplendent in rare diadem. 
 
 Tiny feet wearied, by earthly hand led, 
 
 Have strayed where angels in shining paths tread. 
 
 The dear little hands have slipped from my hold, 
 
 And reached for the Shepherd above; 
 Who lifted my lamb to the safe Upper-Eold, 
 
 Encircled by infinite love. 
 A grieving mother, toward the Hills of (lod. 
 Will follow the pathway her baby trod. 
 26 
 
OUR RECEPTION. 
 
 WE'RE a-haviu' a swell "reception," 
 
 (Lst Beth an' Baby an' me,) 
 Out here in my Gran'pa's ole orchard, 
 
 Under th' big apple tree 
 'At's a-reachin' to meet its nabor, 
 
 An' a frien'ly han'-shake give; 
 'Ith sunshine a-leakin' thro' th' leaves 
 
 Like worter drips thro' a seive. 
 
 I invited Ole Shep an' Moses- 
 Beth fetched th' kittens along: 
 
 An' Baby has lugged out ole Tabby— 
 Purrin' her good-natered song. 
 27 
 
OUK KECEPTION. 
 
 Th' dolls is lolliii' roun' in th' grass, 
 'Ith till soljers standin' guard — 
 
 'Cause ole Mr. Chipmuck s livin clo st. 
 Ill that holler— to'ard tlf A^ard. 
 
 Mjl My! how them blackbird's is jawiii'! 
 
 Like a lot o' Inii-a-ticks— 
 At th' hail's a-breakiii' up fer com 
 
 111 that flel' acrost th' ditch. 
 All' th' air is ist full o' suowflakes 
 From th' a])ple-blossom trees — 
 Where th' red-headed woodpecker's buildin 
 
 As sassy 's ever yon please. 
 
 Beth, she's all trigged ont fer a lady, 
 In Gran'ma's aperii an' cap. 
 
 I got on a long tailed Prince Albert 
 An' my Gran 'pa's stove-pipe hat. 
 
 But we can't do nothin' 'ith Baby- 
 She wont wear no Comp'ny dress; 
 
 80 we'll let her be ''gest o' honor,'' 
 An' do as she please, I guess. 
 
 28 
 
OUK RECEPTION. 
 
 Oh, dear! now shes et up f// 'freslnnenis. 
 
 An' pored tli' milk to th' cat; 
 She's try ill' to s waller th' dishes— 
 
 'Fore she eiirls down fer a nap. 
 Did you 6? Fer see sich bad manners, 
 
 In Gran'ma's an' Gran'pa's pet? 
 But she's ist th' cunnino'-est baby 
 
 'At's ever bin roun' here, yet! 
 
 29 
 
8LTNXY EYP]S. 
 
 THERE'S many a soiiti' of the blue eyes sung— 
 
 There's many a tale that is told, 
 Of deep azure eyes, that vie with the skies, 
 
 And curly-locks burnished with gold. 
 But here's to the children, who stand amono- 
 The ranks of brown eye^, whose fame is unsung 
 
 The sweet hazel eyes, and orbs of soft gray— 
 
 With face of patrician mold; 
 Make poem complete, paint fair picture sweet, 
 
 That oft in famed story is told. 
 But here's to the eyes of no special hue. 
 If they shine with purpose, steadfast and true. 
 
 And here's to the sunny eyes everywhere, 
 Be they of gray tint, black or brown; 
 
 And the placid blue, the clear hazel, too — 
 Tangled locks, an aureole crown 
 
 For the happy brow of innocent truth, 
 
 Fair sunrise of life — sweet morning of youth. 
 
 30 
 
THE ORCHARD CARNIVAL. 
 
 The date was sweet iiiidsn miner day— 
 
 When fairies weave their spell; 
 In a tangled, old-time orchard, 
 
 This carnival was held. 
 There merry children long ago. 
 
 Would congregate to play; 
 And lessons learn from Nature's book, 
 
 Each long, bright summer day. 
 
 'Twas agreed to hold this meeting. 
 
 Beside the winding branch; 
 As it glided by, serenely, 
 
 Toward ocean wide, perchance. 
 The trees had each one promised 
 
 To send a delegate; 
 And the guests, thus highly honored. 
 
 Accept with much elate. 
 
 :^1 
 
THE ORCHAKD CARNIVAL. 
 
 A family iiaaied Tetoskey— 
 
 Accompanied b}' Red June, 
 Were first arrivals on the scene, 
 
 Tho' they were none too soon. 
 The Early Harvest, just behind, 
 
 Had stopped for Maiden Blush; 
 AAlio lives quite near the Bald win— folks 
 
 Of ruddy cheeks aflush. 
 
 A Spy from way up North, they say. 
 Came hastening down to greet 
 
 The amber beauty, Bell Flower- 
 In loveliness complete. 
 
 So filled with haughty pride is she- 
 Somewhat inclined to gloat. 
 
 O'er her modest little neighbor 
 In a shabby Rusty Coat. 
 
 (^uite different from the Wine Sap, 
 
 AVho ne'er was known to crow; 
 And for her special friend, she chose 
 
 The sunny faced Rambo. 
 These two Avere always favorites— 
 
 In good old da^^s gone hj: 
 NoAv other fruit, more up-to-date, 
 
 For honors with them vie. 
 32 
 
THE ORCHAKl) CARNIVAL. 
 
 Staid and homely Mistress Pippin — 
 
 Who comes a little late — 
 Needs wait for sturdy Yandevere, 
 
 As escort to the fete. 
 While ungainly in appearance — 
 
 Because of mammoth size, 
 In winter time he's at his best — 
 
 'Tis then he makes good pies. 
 
 The program of the hour began 
 
 AYhen all the guests had come, i 
 That insipid fop, Ben Davis, 
 
 Had kept them waiting some. 
 But the speckled little Greenings, 
 
 Tried, in their cheerful way, 
 To smooth the ruffled feelings, 
 
 And have a happy day. 
 
 'Twas opened with an overture 
 
 By orchestra complete; 
 Composed of birds, and bees, and brook- 
 
 From Sylvan Glade Retreat. 
 The Meadow Lark was chorister, 
 
 And sang his very best; 
 While Robin labored zealously 
 
 In service for the rest. 
 38 
 
THE ORCHARD CARNIVAL. 
 
 The Humming- Bird in plumage rich, 
 
 Her dainty presence brings, 
 Near where the tuneful Oriole 
 
 In airy hammock, swings 
 One branch above the Woodpecker — 
 
 Who wears a bonnet red; 
 And Avith his housewife, makes a home 
 
 Deep in the tree, 'tis said. 
 
 A lusty frog perched on his throne — 
 
 The fiood-gate 'cross the stream- 
 Croaks a hoarse, defiant dis'^ord, . 
 
 An argument supreme. 
 His folks were not invited — 
 
 A slight, you'll surely say — 
 So he and his neighbor Turtle, 
 
 Resolved to stay away. 
 
 Toward the bars the lowing Jerseys, 
 
 Are slowly drawing near; 
 Whose bells chime on the evening air 
 
 With tinkle soft and clear. 
 While Katydids are arguing— 
 
 With Cricket's sleepy song — 
 All harbingers of early night. 
 
 The Fairies' spell is gone! 
 84 
 
THK ORCHAKI) CAKXH AL. 
 
 But. ah, how soon the brightest day 
 
 AVill pas8 to eventide; 
 And fast the lengthening shadows stretch 
 
 AVhere sunbeams try to hide. 
 The guests must part at twihght hour, 
 
 To meet, perhaps, no more; 
 And now 'tis but a legend told — 
 
 ^Midsummer dav is o'er. 
 
 37 
 
SUNRISE ON THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 THE sun beams down in bright approval. 
 
 From his cloudland throne in the sky,— 
 Where worlds of tempestuous waters 
 
 In clear, shimmei'ino- beauty lie. 
 The sea gulls awake from their slumber 
 
 On the rocks, where the light house standi 
 By the sweet early blast of sunshine, 
 
 Sounding far its roseate strands; 
 That kiss into filigreed beauty, 
 
 The white sails of a fishing fleet; 
 As it idly floats near, all ready 
 
 The tide's early turning to meet. 
 
 Rare jewels of Orient richness, 
 Set in white caps, brilliantly gleam; 
 
 While the surf, with much noisy protest, 
 Throws its billow^y walls, between. 
 
 38 
 
SUNRISE ON THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 Far distant lies fair Sea Isle City, 
 
 Dimly bathed with sweet mist}' light; 
 In weird, phantom beauty, ilhimiued 
 
 Like the ships that pass b}' at night. 
 The many bright lights of her signals, — 
 
 To the vessels far out at sea., 
 Will soon be transfigured with sunbeams, — 
 
 God's signal— o'er all the wide lea. 
 
 The shadow of rugged reefs, climbing 
 
 Athwart the sand dunes, shining white. 
 Can be traced in far away outline, 
 
 Reflecting the dawn's vivid light. 
 The deep creviced mountains of breakers, 
 
 Prove ocean's strength mighty and grand: 
 While low, sweet songs of the sea are heard ;- 
 
 Composed by Omnipotent hand. 
 He layeth the depth in His storehouse. 
 
 Rough tempests will still at His call; 
 The waters He gathers together — 
 
 The glory of God over all. 
 
 89 
 
CHRISTMAS RETROSPECT. 
 
 THE children now are waiting' for dear old Santa Claun? 
 Who, with his flying reindeer, Avill surely make a pause, 
 And down the chimney droppino*, he'll land beside the 
 
 grate,— 
 To find the empty stockings, and fill them from his 
 
 freight. 
 The "Sand Man'" (most intrusive) first, takes a little 
 
 peep. 
 While enroute to Nodway Town, and lo! they're fast' 
 
 asleep. 
 
 40 
 
( HHISTMAS liETHOSPECT. 
 
 These happy preparations recall the days of yore, 
 When other merry children were deep in Christmas lore. 
 The quaint, old-fashioned fireplace, with yawning depth 
 
 ao-low, 
 Threw out a cheerful glimmer across the wintry snow; 
 And circled 'ronnd the ruddy blaze, the dear familiar 
 
 forms. 
 Complete the homely |)icture, which mem'ry's wall 
 
 adorns. 
 
 Over-hanging rafters, decked with airy cobweb strands, — 
 Hung "twixt rows of drying herbs, gathered by thrifty 
 
 hands, — 
 Caught sparkles from the hrelight— made pictures on 
 
 the wall. 
 That danced in weird measure to the kettle's cheery 
 
 call. 
 When winds were whistling fiercely, sweet comfort 
 
 twilight brings; 
 Then hearken to the music — the tune the chimney sings. 
 
 We hung our Christmas stocking's beside the ingle-nook, 
 Where dear old Kris would see them without a second 
 look. 
 
 41 
 
( HKISTMAS KETKOSPECT. 
 
 While wond'ring' how the fat old Haint would clamber 
 
 o'er the erane, 
 We listened for his reindeer bells, jingling down the lane. 
 Many "creepy tales" were told, in joyful fear we <]uake, 
 As sitting straight and watchful, we tried to keep 
 
 awake. 
 
 Hark! joy bells pealing softly. — Turn down sweet 
 memory's page: 
 
 The child is gone,— alas, we are nearing middle age. 
 
 Our Father's hand hns led us through all these weary 
 years. 
 
 And in His love abiding, there are no doubts, no fears. 
 
 For the coming of the Christ-Child — gift of God com- 
 plete,— 
 
 Brings peace for every treasure we lay at His dear feet. 
 
 42 
 
JUL 1 1899 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS