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_Little Bo Peep had lost her sheep, And didn't know where to find them; But she turned them all to automobiles, And now she rides behind them._
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A LITTLE BOY'S DREAM
If dreams were only real, just think How happy I would be, 'Cause mostly all the heroes come And have a talk with me When I'm asleep; if only they Would come when I'm awake, I'd like to have my father give Their famous hands a shake.
I know I'll think that last night's dream Was best of all I've had, For such a great, big gentleman Called out to me, "My lad, Remember that to fight is brave, But braver yet to be A defender of the weak ones, To set the captives free, To preserve your country's honor, And strive all wrongs to right."
I liked him best of all the men Who visit me at night.
His name is Abraham Lincoln, The kindest of them all.
I only hope some other night He'll make a longer call.
RUTH'S THANKSGIVING DINNER
"I wish I could dress up like those Rag-a-m.u.f.fins!" exclaimed Ruth, looking out of the nursery window on Thanksgiving Day, "I think it would be such fun!"
"Do you, dear?" said Mother, standing behind her little daughter who was watching a number of children dressed grotesquely in grown-ups' clothes parade up and down the avenue.
"Yes, indeed," replied Ruth, "just see the fun they are having."
"But think how poor they are and how few pleasures they really have; they are not looking forward to a lovely Thanksgiving dinner," said Mother, noticing the discontented look on Ruth's face.
"Don't they get any dinner?" she asked, turning to Mother in surprise.
"Yes, but only a very poor one; no turkey, no nuts and raisins."
"Mother," cried Ruth, "could I give my dinner to one of these poor little children?"
"How do you mean?" Mother asked, delighted at the generosity of her little daughter.
"Well," answered Ruth, suddenly realizing what she was about to give up.
"I mean, Mother dear, could I give _some_ of my dinner to that poor little boy over there by the lamp post?"
"Yes, you may," Mother answered, and, touching the bell, she told Wiggins to bring in the little boy. "Give him a piece of mince pie and some candy for dessert, Wiggins," she added, "and don't pa.s.s the mince pie nor candy to Miss Ruth at dinner."
Then Mother came over to where Ruth was standing and, placing her arms around her little daughter, said, "You know, dear, you are giving up some of your dinner to make a little boy happy."
"Yes, Mother," answered Ruth with a smile, "some of my very own dinner."
A WELL-GROOMED p.u.s.s.y
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Puss, come sit you on a chair And I will brush your silken hair; I'll so enhance its satin sheen That of all cats you'll be the queen.
LITTLE SIR CAT
Little Sir Cat Kills the Wolf
"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Little Sir Cat, "if that isn't Little Red Riding Hood." Sure enough it was. Just in front of him, tripping along the path, was a little girl dressed in a red cape and hood.
"May I help you carry your basket?" he asked politely.
"Oh, dear!" screamed Little Red Riding Hood.
But when she saw Little Sir Cat, she said, with a sigh of relief, "I thought you were the Big Gray Wolf!"
Well, pretty soon they reached her Grandmother's house, and, knowing that old women usually like cats, Little Sir Kitten made up his mind to be very nice indeed to Little Red Riding Hood's Grandmother.
So he wiped his boots carefully on the doormat, and, with his cap held politely in his paw, waited in the hall while Little Red Riding Hood ran upstairs.
"Come up, Kitten," she called down in a few minutes; "Grandma, wants to see you. Hang your cap on the hat-rack."
Then Little Red Riding Hood took hold of his paw, and led him into a sunny room, where in a big easy-chair by the window her Grandmother sat knitting.
"Come here, Sir Kitten, and let me see your nice red top boots," said her Grandmother. "I always did like cats." And just then the little canary bird began to sing:
[Ill.u.s.tration: LITTLE SIR CAT KILLS THE WOLF]
"_Look out for the Big Gray Wolf, my dears.
He has long sharp teeth and pointed ears, And he roams through the forest dark and dim.
Be careful you don't get caught by him!_"
So Little Red Riding Hood kissed her Grandma good-by and with Little Sir Cat started for home. But, oh, dear me! They had gone only a little way when they heard a noise.
"Look," whispered Little Sir Cat, "there's the wolf."
"What shall we do?" sobbed Little Red Riding Hood.
"Trust to me," replied Sir Cat, "I have my trusty staff. But let's hurry," and taking hold of her hand they started off on a brisk run.
Nearer and nearer came a dark shadow, and all of a sudden, with a dismal howl, the Big Gray Wolf leaped on the path just in front of them. His cruel jaws were wide open and his long, white teeth snapped with a dreadful sound. But Little Sir Cat wasn't afraid. He swung his staff and hit the Big Gray Wolf a tremendous blow on the head.