In My Nursery Part 13

She _wouldn't_ look over her picture-book!

She _wouldn't_ run out to help the cook!

She _wouldn't_ be petted or coaxed or teased, And she _would_ do _exactly whatever_ she pleased.

She _wouldn't_ have naughty rice to eat!

She _wouldn't_ be gentle and good and sweet!

She _wouldn't_ give me one single kiss, And pray what could we do with a girl like this?

We tickled her up, and we tickled her down, From her toddling toes to her curling crown.

And we kissed her and tossed her, until she was fain To promise she wouldn't say "wouldn't" again.

WILL-O'-THE-WISP.

"Will-o'-the-wisp! Will-o'-the-wisp!

Show me your lantern true!

Over the meadow and over the hill, Gladly I'll follow you.

Never I'll murmur nor ask to rest, And ever I'll be your friend, If you'll only give me the pot of gold That lies at your journey's end."

Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp, Lighted his lantern true; Over the meadow and over the hill, Away and away he flew.

And away and away went the poor little boy, Trudging along so bold, And thinking of naught but the journey's end, And the wonderful pot of gold.

Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp, Flew down to a lonely swamp; He put out his lantern and vanished away In the evening chill and damp.

And the poor little boy went s.h.i.+vering home, Wet and tired and cold; He had come, alas! to his journey's end, But where was the pot of gold?

NONSENSE VERSES.

I.

Nicholas Ned, He lost his head, And put a turnip on instead; But then, ah me!

He could not see, So he thought it was night, and he went to bed.

II.

Ponsonby Perks, He fought with Turks, Performing many wonderful works; He killed over forty, High-minded and haughty, And cut off their heads with smiles and smirks.

III.

Winifred White, She married a fright, She called him her darling, her duck, and delight; The back of his head Was so lovely, she said, It dazzled her soul and enraptured her sight.

IV.

Harriet Hutch, Her conduct was such, Her uncle remarked it would conquer the Dutch: She boiled her new bonnet, And breakfasted on it, And rode to the moon on her grandmother's crutch.

AN OLD RAT'S TALE.

He was a rat, and she was a rat, And down in one hole they did dwell.

And each was as black as your Sunday hat, And they loved one another well.

He had a tail, and she had a tail; Both long and curling and fine.

And each said, "My love's is the finest tail In the world, excepting mine!"

He smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese, And they both p.r.o.nounced it good; And both remarked it would greatly add To the charms of their daily food.

So he ventured out and she ventured out; And I saw them go with pain.

But what them befell I never can tell, For they never came back again.

TO THE LITTLE GIRL WHO WRIGGLES.

Don't wriggle about any more, my dear!

I'm sure all your joints must be sore, my dear!

It's wriggle and jiggle, it's twist and it's wiggle, Like an eel on a s.h.i.+ngly sh.o.r.e, my dear, Like an eel on a s.h.i.+ngly sh.o.r.e.

Oh! how do you think you would feel, my dear, If you should turn into an eel, my dear?

With never an arm to protect you from harm, And no sign of a toe or a heel, my dear, No sign of a toe or a heel?

And what do you think you would do, my dear, Far down in the water so blue, my dear, Where the prawns and the shrimps, with their curls and their crimps, Would turn up their noses at you, my dear, Would turn up their noses at you?

The crab he would give you a nip, my dear, And the lobster would lend you a clip, my dear.

And perhaps if a shark should come by in the dark, Down his throat you might happen to slip, my dear, Down his throat you might happen to slip.

Then try to sit still on your chair, my dear!

To your parents 'tis no more than fair, my dear.

For we really don't feel like inviting an eel Our board and our lodging to share, my dear, Our board and our lodging to share.

The Forty Little Ducklings.

[_A story with a certain amount of truth in it._]