"There Was a Little Girl" 107 ANGER ANGER in its time and place Close in tufted bush or brake The vile snake will always sting you. Charles and Mary Lamb "THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL" THERE was a little girl, who had a little curl And when she was good, she was very, very good, She stood on her head, on her little trundle-bed, With nobody by for to hinder; She screamed and she squalled, she yelled and she bawled, And drummed her little heels against the winder. Her mother heard the noise, and thought it was the boys Playing in the empty attic, She rushed upstairs, and caught her unawares, And spanked her, most emphatic. Unknown THE BUTTERFLY AND THE BEE METHOUGHT I heard a butterfly "Poor child of vanity! those dyes, "Content I toil from morn till eve, And, scorning idleness, To tribes of gaudy sloth I leave The vanity of dress." William Lisle Bowles [1762-1850] TRY AGAIN 'Tis a lesson you should heed, Try again; If at first you don't succeed, Try again; Then your courage should appear, For if you will persevere, You will conquer, never fear; Try again. Once or twice, though you should fail, Try again; If you would at last prevail, Try again; If we strive, 'tis no disgrace Try again. All that other folk can do, Why, with patience, may not you? Only keep this rule in view, Try again. 109 William Edward Hickson [1803-1870] BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES BUTTERCUPS and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers; Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny hours, While the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare, Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there. Ere the snow-drop peepeth, Ere the early primrose Opes its paly gold, Somewhere on the sunny bank Buttercups are bright; Somewhere midst the frozen grass Peeps the daisy white. Little hardy flowers, Like to children poor, Playing in their sturdy health By their mother's door. Purple with the north-wind, Fearing not, and caring not, Though they be a-cold! What to them is winter! What are stormy showers! Are these human flowers! He who gave them hardships Gave them likewise hardy strength And patient hearts to bear. Mary Howitt [1799-1888] THE ANT AND THE CRICKET A SILLY young cricket, accustomed to sing Through the warm, sunny months of gay summer and spring, Began to complain, when he found that at home His cupboard was empty and winter was come. Not a crumb to be found On the snow-covered ground; Not a flower could he see, Not a leaf on a tree: "Oh, what will become," says the cricket, "of me?" At last by starvation and famine made bold, Away he set off to a miserly ant, To see if, to keep him alive, he would grant Him shelter from rain: A mouthful of grain He wished only to borrow, He'd repay it to-morrow: If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow. Says the ant to the cricket, "I'm your servant and friend, But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend; But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by When the weather was warm?" Said the cricket, “Not I. My heart was so light That I sang day and night, "You sang, sir, you say? Go then," said the ant, "and dance winter away." Deeds of Kindness Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket And out of the door turned the poor little cricket. III If you live without work, you must live without food. AFTER WINGS THIS was your butterfly, you see,— His fine wings made him vain: Unknown O child, when things have learned to wear To keep them always high and fair: Which even a butterfly must bear To be a worm again! Sarah M. B. Piatt [1836 DEEDS OF KINDNESS SUPPOSE the little Cowslip Should hang its golden cup Would miss its fragrant smell, Suppose the glistening Dewdrop Upon the grass should say, The blade on which it rested, Before the day was done, |