No More Learning

. 41
Morning-glory . . . . . . . . 42
A Rose 42
I Remember . . . . . . . . 43
Family Verses . . . . . . . 45
To the Author 47
Holiday Shopping . . . . . . . 47
Don . 47
The City of the Dead 48
Jack Will Sing 49
Roses in the Garden . . . . . . 49
Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining . . . . 50
The Back Yard 51
Autumn . . . . . . . . . 51
My Baby 52
Lambs of the Fold . . . . . . . 53
A Daily Prayer 53
A Nutting Party 54
The Beautiful Allegheny . . . . . 56
Glen and I . . . . . . . . 57
Grumbling Husband . . . . . . 57
The Merry Widow Hat 58
Cottage Prayer-meeting . . . . . 58
The Board Fence . . . . . . 59
The Welcome Rain . . . . . . 60
Friends to the Bermudas . . . . . . 60
Christmas Presents . . . . . . 61
The Chafing Dish 61
Apple-tree . . . . . . . . 62
The Dream . . . . . 63
Girls and Boys . . . . . . . 64
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? An oculist I went to see
If blind I was to be.
Go home, take heed,
Take care of your eyes, do not even read.
An education you would have a part,
But be blind, and a broken heart.
The Jluthor
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses
These first few verses will tell the reader when
many of them were written.
From my bed I arise
Long before the sun is in the skies.
Sleep, robin and wren.
That a few verses I mav pen.
The birds awake to soar
While many sleep and snore,
And now I am up again
That something 1 may do with my pen.
Dear Heavenly Father, of this I never tire.
O Father, help me, if it is Thy desire,
That I may write while others sleep,
That a promise I may keep.
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? 10 Children's Rhymes and Verses
The Promise
As I passed from the old church
I saw a picture of the new,
With a swelling heart,
And asked what I could do --
For in its building I must have a part.
In the midst of the night
I asked God for the light
A few verses I might compose
While others' eyes in sleep do close.
For God this promise I made
With His help the new church I would aid.
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses 11
The Wren's Nest
Two little wrens built their nest
In the sprinkling can, away from the rest,
Which hung on the apple-tree limb
Away where no other birdie had ever been.
How the children did beg
To see the dear little blue egg;
There were one, two, three, four
Hid away in birdie's little store.
And one other day
Mother bird flew away ;
For the little birdies were in need
Of something good to feed.
The old gray cat so sly
Watched the nest so hieh,
And, oh my ! she did sigh
For she thought, what a good pie.
The mother bird brought them food
And it tasted so good.
So the little birds used their wines
And flew away and like other birds : sings.
And now we hear their song
For it is all the day long.
I wish we could all happy be
As the dear little song birds we see.
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? 12 Children's Rhymes and Verses
Aunt Peggie
Dear old Aunt " Peggie " who lived out the lane.
How we loved to go there, and go there again ;
She lived in the dear old log house.
Everything so peaceful and quiet as a mouse.
Her floors so clean and white as a bone.
Aunt Peggie had no child; she lived all alone
With beautiful flowers and old-fashioned hollyhock
As they grew along the garden walk.
The old orchard with peach and plum,
For we always knew we would get some.
She loved us children, and we knew it well,
Sometimes so lonely she used to tell.
From us she lived about a mile ;
1 remember her white cap and how she used to smile,
And the spring where the honeysuckles grew
And of the violets so blue.
The old shed and high garden paling
Along where the hop vine was trailing.
In the field the elderberry
And along the path the tall wild-cherry.
I remember the old garden gate,
There, for her we used to wait ;
And how we used to beg
To the barn to go and hunt the hen's tgg.
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses 13
The winding stream ; it seemed so new.
Along where the wild crab-apple grew,
And the old beehive.
And the dinner bell she rang at five.
The rose-bushes where we used to peek
And play hide-and-go-seek.
Aunt Peggie -- who always asked Him to guide
As she read the Bible with the candle at her side.
In the fence corners where we used to walk
And gather raspberries and fill the timothy stalk;
Her faithful dog, she called Rover,
How he ran with us in the field of clover.
When we watched the swarm of the bee
As they alighted on the limb of a large tree;
The noise we made, them to confuse.
For the bees she did not wish to lose.
She rode the old white horse all alone,
And went to the church we call the Stone.
Left a widow when a bride,
Left alone in the world so wide.
In sickness or sorrow, no matter where,
Dear Aunt Peggie was always there.
How loving and tender and mild,
To cheer and comfort she ahvavs smiled !
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? 14 Children's Rhymes and Verses
For each one, love in her breast.
Many years she has gone to her haven of rest.
Of her life I love to tell.
Would that we could live half so well.
Father and Little Glen
In the meadow where they raked the hay,
And oh ! it was such a funny way ;
It went humpety, humpety bump,
And then a great big pile like a stum]).
First, to sow and then to reap,
And pile it up in a great big heap,
And then it *s hauled into a great mow
For winter feed for the sheep, horse and cow.
The Lawn Fete
It was held late in the afternoon
Of one sweet day in the month of June.
With Japanese lanterns in a neighboring lot.
Where gathered the aged, the youth and the tot.
Six ladies I was to take,
And those that did not bake,
For them, I was asked to call,
Some were very large and some very small.
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses 15
( )f my ro^cs I gave each a bouquet,
And all the party looked happy and very gay.
We walked and talked on our way
And enjoyed the beautiful summer daw
It was called the Rambler's Brigade,
For the new Methodist church we wished to aid.
Everything was cheery, bright and clean
Where we ate strawberries, cake and ice cream.
The Attic
Manx a story the attic has told,
\<> matter how old, how old.
With windows a foot square.
Without light and not a breath of air.
With the old wooden bed,
! wished it was iron instead;
The ceiling five feet high,
The head of the bed was very near by.
In one corner stood the old spinning-wheel,
In the other the old wooden reel,
And there were the feathers of the peacock's tail,
And the old fiddle that hung on the nail.
And the stand, eight by ten,
Large enough to hold the ink and pen ;
The looking-glass hung so high,
And was large enough to see one eye.
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? 16 Children's Rhymes and Verses
The pictures that hung on the wall,
Some were large and some very small ;
Some were landscapes with snow.
But were not the best of Michelangelo.
Of the stories the attic has told
Some are very warm and some very cold.
And now, before the daily toil is begun.
I sit, this beautiful morn, and watch the rising sun.
Many a genius has burnt the midnight oil
Over some problems, have to toil.
It matters not where we study or why.
Just so ourselves we apply.
Rhymes of the Presidents
Note -- A newspaper clipping, excepting the last four lines.
First stands the lofty Washington,
That noble, ereat, immortal one.
The elder Adams next we see.
And Jefferson makes the number three.
Then Madison is fourth, you know.
The fifth on the list is Monroe.
The sixth and Adams comes again.
With Jackson seven in the train.
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses 17
Van Iiuren eight falls into line,
And Harrison makes the number nine.
The tenth is Tyler as we turn,
And Polk eleven as we learn.
The twelfth is Taylor in rotation,
Fillmore thirteenth in succession.
Fourteenth Pierce has been selected,
Buchanan fifteenth is elected.
As sixteenth Lincoln rules the nation,
As Johnston seventeenth fills his station.
The eighteenth then is Grant, you know,
And nineteenth Hayes from Ohio.
Then comes another liuckeye son,
Garfield, the loved and martyred one.
Whose term was filled by Arthur through,
When Cleveland comes as twenty-two.
Then Harrison as twenty-third.
When Cleveland again is heard.
As twenty-fifth McKinley great,
Who, too, shared the martyr's fate.
And though the deepest grief is felt,
We hail the gallant Roosevelt.
And now without fear of graft,
Comes the honorable William H. Taft.
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? 18 Children's Rhymes and Verses
Snow Birds
The little snowbirds, how they sing ;
They don't care if we never have spring.
They will hop to the door
And ask for a crumb or more.
The crumbs that fall on the floor.
If you will just throw out of the door.
The birds you will feed without cost,
Out in the snow and frost.
The Busy Housewife
How busy, how busy we be,
Washing, ironing and cleaning to see ;
Not much time for pleasure or song,
But must think as we go along.
Monday the laundress is here ;
She does so many things queer.
The grocer-man orders to take,
And the starch she will make.
Tuesday she will iron until noon.
And sometimes goes home too soon.
The door-bell will ring,
Bundles and packages they '11 bring.
Wednesday will water flowers and many a chore,
And patch the clothes that are tore ;
And the stockings she will darn,
And sometimes run out of yarn.
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? Children's Rhymes a nil Verses 19
Thursday the day she will take
Something needy to make ;
When she gets ready to try on,
The day is almost gone.
Friday she will clean and dust,
For she feels that she must.
The week is now nearly gone
And the work is never done.
Saturday, pies and cakes to make,
And good home-made bread to bake.
Now her work is not all done,
Before another week has begun.
Sunday, much the best,
God gave to His children for rest.
Ask His blessings through the week,
Then let us holy the Sabbath keep.
The Sweet Pea and the Bee
The beautiful bed of sweet peas
In the warm sunny days are covered with bees
The honey they suck and store away
In remembrance of the wintry cold dav.
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? 20 Children's Rhymes and Verses
The bee, it has to work and save ;
It hardly seems right to make it our slave.
For in the honey so sweet
The bees and flowers we love to greet.
The beautiful sweet peas hid the old post,
The late passer-by might think it a ghost ;
But in the morn, all covered with dew,
Will give it the glorious red, white and blue.
McKinley and the Carnation
William McKinley, the noble President of our land,
For every one a word, a smile, a shake of the hand ;
By an assassin's hand he was laid low
And passed the way we must all go.
January twenty-ninth, his birthday,
Please wear the carnation, remember in this way ;
For the carnation, in life, he loved to wear.
Kindly wear the flower and show that we care.
To the youth of the land --
Reverence for the home and golden band.
A noble example he taught.
In the wars of the nation he fought.
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? Children's Rhymes and Verses 21
McKinley, how he loved his home ;
To his wife and nation, like him, there is none.
He has gone to his God with many scores
And his loved ones he has met on the other shores.
A Vacation
For a few days' rest I chose a farm,
Where I could be alone and listen to no yarn,
From work and worry and tribulation
With myself and nature for a few hours of medi-
tation.
Away from the city with its noise and dust,
Among the quiet country folks whom one can trust,
From fashion and flurry where they wear their best,
Far out in the beautiful country where I can rest.
To watch the harvesters their wheat to reap,
And gaze from a distant hill over some silent grave
the willows weep,
And think of the long, long past
And know a few hours' quietness had come at last.
The green pasture fields where ewe and lamb graze,
For all the beauty may heaven have praise !
The earth, how they plow and harrow,
As I watch the making of the nest of the wild
sparrow.
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? 22 Children's Rhymes and Verses
And listen to the tapping of the woodpeck ;
How diligently ; for something to eat it does expect.
This was along the path where grew the buttercup,
And there was the wild bee its honey to sup.
Away in the woods and wheat-fields and corn,
Reminds me of the old home where I was born ;
Where I can listen to the singing of the bird and
the cackle of the hen,
That a few verses I may pen.
The Wild Rose
In the fence corners of the meadow way
I gathered the wild rose one June day.
How beautiful and fair.
I wondered how alone it grew
And only by chance revealed to view.
Its delicate tint of pink,
With heart of gold,
With richest perfume sweetly unfold,
Mingled with the fragrance of the sweet clover hay,
As I gathered the wild rose that June day.
W T hen plucked from its hiding place.
By hands so pitiless,
It sometimes dies and withers its face.
Then come sweet memories of the old home
And how in childhood we used to roam.
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