And what do you do when you wake at dawn, Little Boy! Little Boy! what? Hug my Mommy and kiss her on Her smiling eyelids, sweet and wan, And tell her everything I’ve forgot, A-wandering ’way in there—in there— Through the blind-world ’way in there! THE TRESTLE AND THE BUCK-SAW The Trestle and the Buck-Saw Went out a-walking once, And staid away and staid away For days and weeks and months: And when they got back home again, Of all that had occurred, The neighbors said the gossips said They never said a word. THE KING OF OO-RINKTUM-JING Dainty Baby Austin! Your Daddy’s gone to Boston To see the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And the whale he rode acrost on! Boston Town’s a city: But O it’s such a pity!— They’ll greet the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing With never a nursery ditty! But me and you and Mother Can stay with Baby-brother, And sing of the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And laugh at one another! So what cares Baby Austin If Daddy _has_ gone to Boston To see the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And the whale he rode acrost on? THE TOY PENNY-DOG Ma put my Penny-Dog Safe on the shelf, An’ left no one home but him, Me an’ myself; So I clumbed a big chair I pushed to the wall— But the Toy Penny-Dog Ain’t there at all! I went back to Dolly— An’ _she_ ’uz gone too, An’ little Switch ’uz layin’ there;— An’ Ma says “_Boo!_”— An’ there she wuz a-peepin’ Through the front-room door: An’ I ain’t goin’ to be a bad Little girl no more! JARGON-JINGLE Tawdery!—faddery! Feathers and fuss! Mummery!—flummery! wusser and wuss! All o’ Humanity—Vanity Fair!— Heaven for nothin’, and—nobody there! THE GREAT EXPLORER He sailed o’er the weltery watery miles For a tabular year-and-a-day, To the kindless, kinkable Cannibal Isles He sailed and he sailed away! He captured a loon in a wild lagoon, And a yak that weeps and smiles, And a bustard-bird, and a blue baboon, In the kindless Cannibal Isles And wilds Of the kinkable Cannibal Isles. He swiped in bats with his butterfly-net, In the kinkable Cannibal Isles, And got short-waisted and over-het In the haunts of the crocodiles; And nine or ten little Pygmy Men Of the quaintest shapes and styles He shipped back home to his old Aunt Jenn, From the kindless Cannibal Isles And wilds Of the kinkable Cannibal Isles. THE SCHOOL-BOY’S FAVORITE _“Over the river and through the wood_ _Now Grandmother’s cap I spy:_ _Hurrah for the fun!—Is the pudding done?_ _Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!”_ SCHOOL READER. Fer any boy ’at’s little as me, Er any little girl, That-un’s the goodest poetry-piece In any book in the worl’! An’ ef grown-peoples wuz little ag’in I bet they’d say so, too, Ef _they’d_ go see _their_ ole Gran’ma, Like our Pa lets _us_ do!