PLANTING

_The sky is blue and soft to-day, The gra.s.s is green this month of May, And Muvver with her spade and rake My little garden helps me make; For every one must plant more seeds To grow the food that each one needs: Potatoes, corn, green peas, and beets, The kind of beans that sister eats, We plant in rows marked by a string, For neatness is the one great thing; The earth is then raked smooth and pressed And Nature 'tends to all the rest._

ROBERT LIVINGSTON

SPRING PATCHWORK

If I could patch a coverlet From pieces of the Spring, What dreams a happy child would have Beneath so fair a thing!

A center of the dear blue sky, A bordering of green, With patches of the yellow sun All chequered in between.

Bright ribbons of the silky gra.s.s Laced prettily across, With satin of new little leaves, And velvet of the moss.

In every corner, violets, Half-hidden from the view, With many-flowered squares betwixt, Of pinky tints and blue;

Of flossy silk and gossamer, Of tissue and brocade; A warp of rosy morning mist, A woof of purple shade.

Embroideries of little vines, And spider-webs of lace, With ta.s.sels of the alder tied At each convenient place.

With gold-thread I would sew the seams, And needles of the pine, Oh, never child in all the world Would have a quilt like mine!

ABBIE FARWELL BROWN

BABY'S VALENTINE

Valentine, O Valentine, Pretty little Love of mine; Little Love whose yellow hair Makes the daffodils despair; Little Love whose shining eyes Fill the stars with sad surprise: Hither turn your ten wee toes, Each a tiny shut-up rose, End most fitting and complete For the rosy-pinky feet; Toddle, toddle here to me, For I'm waiting, do you see?-- Waiting for to call you mine, Valentine, O Valentine!

Valentine, O Valentine, I will dress you up so fine!

Here's a frock of tulip-leaves, Trimmed with lace the spider weaves; Here's a cap of larkspur blue, Just precisely made for you; Here's a mantle scarlet-dyed, Once the tiger-lily's pride, Spotted all with velvet black Like the fire-beetle's back; Lady-slippers on your feet, Now behold you all complete!

Come and let me call you mine, Valentine, O Valentine!

Valentine, O Valentine, Now a wreath for you I'll twine.

I will set you on a throne Where the damask rose has blown, Dropping all her velvet bloom, Carpeting your leafy room: Here while you shall sit in pride, b.u.t.terflies all rainbow-pied, Dandy beetles gold and green, Creeping, flying, shall be seen, Every bird that shakes his wings, Every katydid that sings, Wasp and bee with buzz and hum.

Hither, hither see them come, Creeping all before your feet, Rendering their homage meet.

But 'tis I that call you mine, Valentine, O Valentine!

LAURA E. RICHARDS

BABY SEED SONG

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, Are you awake in the dark?

Here we lie cosily, close to each other: Hark to the song of the lark-- "Waken!" the lark says, "waken and dress you; Put on your green coats and gay, Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you-- Waken! 'tis morning--'tis May!"

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, What kind of flower will you be?

I'll be a poppy--all white, like my mother; Do be a poppy like me.

What! you're a sun-flower? How I shall miss you When you're grown golden and high!

But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; Little brown brother, good-bye.

E. NESBIT

RAIN IN THE NIGHT

Raining, raining, All night long; Sometimes loud, sometimes soft, Just like a song.

There'll be rivers in the gutters And lakes along the street.

It will make our lazy kitty Wash his little dirty feet.

The roses will wear diamonds Like kings and queens at court; But the pansies all get muddy Because they are so short.

I'll sail my boat to-morrow In wonderful new places, But first I'll take my watering-pot And wash the pansies' faces.

AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR

A LITTLE GIRL'S SONGS

I

SPRING SONG

I love daffodils.

I love Narcissus when he bends his head.

I can hardly keep March and spring and Sunday and daffodils Out of my rhyme of song.

Do you know anything about the spring When it comes again?

G.o.d knows about it while winter is lasting: Flowers bring him power in the spring, And birds bring it, and children.

He is sometimes sad and alone Up there in the sky trying to keep his worlds happy.

I bring him songs when he is in his sadness, and weary.

I tell him how I used to wander out to study stars and the moon he made And flowers in the dark of the wood.

I keep reminding him about his flowers he has forgotten, And that snowdrops are up.

What can I say to make him listen?

"G.o.d," I say, "Don't you care!

n.o.body must be sad or sorry In the spring-time of flowers."

II

VELVETS

_By a Bed of Pansies_

This pansy has a thinking face Like the yellow moon.

This one has a face with white blots: I call him the clown.

Here goes one down the gra.s.s With a pretty look of plumpness: She is a little girl going to school With her hands in the pockets of her pinafore.

Her name is Sue.

I like this one, in a bonnet, Waiting-- Her eyes are so deep!