Children's Literature Part 112

The Raggedy Man--one time when he Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me, Says "When _you're_ big like your Pa is, Air you go' to keep a fine store like his-- An' be a rich merchunt--an' wear fine clothes?-- Er what _air_ you go' to be, goodness knows!"

An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann, An' I says "'M go' to be a Raggedy Man!

I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!"

FOOTNOTE:

[2] From the Biographical Edition of the _Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley_. Copyright 1913. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Co.

306

James Hogg (1770-1835) was a poet of Scotland and a contemporary of Sir Walter Scott. He was known as the Ettrick Shepherd, from the place of his birth and from the fact that as a boy he tended the sheep. He had little schooling and was a thoroughly self-made man. The strongly marked and energetic swing of the rhythm, fitting in so well with the vigorous out-of-door experiences suggested, has made "A Boy's Song" a great favorite. Other poems of his that are still read are "The Skylark" and the verse fairy tale called "Kilmeny."

A BOY'S SONG

JAMES HOGG

Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest, Where the hay lies thick and greenest, There to track the homeward bee, That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the hazel bank is steepest, Where the shadow falls the deepest, Where the cl.u.s.tering nuts fall free, That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away Little sweet maidens from the play, Or love to banter and fight so well, That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play, Through the meadow, among the hay; Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.

307

Mary Howitt (1799-1888), an English author and translator, was the first to put Hans Christian Andersen's tales into English. She wrote on a great variety of subjects, and much of her work was useful and pleasing to a mult.i.tude of readers old and young. Besides the following poem, she is known well to young readers by her "The Fairies of Caldon-Low."

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY

MARY HOWITT

"Will you walk into my parlor?"

Said the Spider to the Fly; "'Tis the prettiest little parlor That ever you did spy.

"The way into my parlor Is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things To show when you are there."

"Oh, no, no," said the little Fly, "To ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair Can ne'er come down again."

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, With soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?"

Said the Spider to the Fly.

"There are pretty curtains drawn around; The sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"

"Oh, no, no," said the little Fly, "For I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, Who sleep upon your bed."

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly: "Dear friend, what can I do To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?

"I have within my pantry Good store of all that's nice: I'm sure you're very welcome-- Will you please to take a slice?"

"Oh, no, no," said the little Fly, "Kind sir, that cannot be; I've heard what's in your pantry, And I do not wish to see."

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "You're witty and you're wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings How brilliant are your eyes!

"I have a little looking-gla.s.s Upon my parlor shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, You shall behold yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "For what you're pleased to say, And, bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about.

And went into his den, For well he knew the silly Fly Would soon come back again:

So he wove a subtle web In a little corner sly, And set his table ready To dine upon the Fly.

Then came out to his door again, And merrily did sing: "Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, With the pearl and silver wing;

"Your robes are green and purple-- There's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, But mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon This silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, Came slowly flitting by;

With buzzing wings she hung aloft, Then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, And green and purple hue--

Thinking only of her crested head-- Poor, foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, And fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair, Into his dismal den, Within his little parlor-- But she ne'er came out again.

And now, dear little children, Who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed.

Unto an evil counsellor Close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale Of the Spider and the Fly.

308

William Howitt (1792-1879) and his wife, author of the preceding poem, worked together on many literary projects. One of William Howitt's poems, "The Wind in a Frolic," has long found a place in collections for children. It presents the wind in a sprightly, mischievous, and boisterous mood.

THE WIND IN A FROLIC

WILLIAM HOWITT