She wrapped her in her scarlet cloak, she donned her steeple hat; The gander flapped his lovely wings and circled like a bat, And then the noble bird away to Christmas Land did soar, Nor slackened speed till they arrived at Santa Claus's door! Good Santa Claus was overjoyed his dear old friend to see, And treated her to cake and nuts from off a Christmas tree. Just what was said on either side I can't exactly tell, As nobody was near enough to hear it very well. But this I've learned: old Santa Claus that very Christmas took That poor, benighted little child a most enchanting book, And now she knows old Mother Goose--her children great and small, And, as good little folks should do, she dearly loves them all! #SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES# SWEET AND LOW By Alfred, Lord Tennyson Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the Western Sea. Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the Western Sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying Moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest on Mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his Babe in the Nest, Silver sails all out of the West Under the Silver Moon; Sleep, my little one, sleep my pretty one, sleep. THE SLEEPY-TIME STORY[C] BY GERTRUDE SMITH One night Arabella and Araminta's mamma was sewing, and their papa was reading his newspaper. And there was a fire in the grate--a warm, bright fire in the grate. And Arabella sat on the rug before the fire, and Araminta sat on the rug before the fire. And Arabella was playing with her little white kitty, and Araminta was playing with her little black kitty. And Arabella's little white kitty's name was Annabel, and Araminta's little black kitty's name was Lillabel. Arabella had a little red ball fastened to a long string, and Araminta had a little blue ball fastened to a long string. Arabella would roll her ball, and her little white kitty would run and jump for it. And Araminta would roll her ball, and her little black kitty would run and jump for it. The kittens were so cunning and funny, and they were having such a splendid time. Sometimes when Arabella's kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Arabella would laugh until she tumbled right over on the floor. And sometimes when Araminta's kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Araminta would laugh until she would tumble right over on the floor. Oh, they were having a splendid time. But all at once their mamma looked up from her sewing, and said, "Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight." And their papa looked up from his paper, and said, "Yes, good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight."