And all through the realm of Nonsense Land They offered up prayers for the princess’s hand. At length the glad tidings were heard with a shout That the princess’s finger-nail had grown out: Pointed and polished and pink and clean, Befitting the hand of a some-day queen. Salutes were fired all over the land By the home-guard battery pop-gun band; And great was the joy of my Lord High-Nose, Who straightway ordered his wedding clothes, And paid his tailor, Don Wait-for-aye, Who died of amazement the self-same day. My lord by a jury was judged insane; For they said, and the truth of the saying was plain, That a lord of such very high pedigree Would never be paying his bills, you see, Unless he was out of his head; and so They locked him up without more ado. And the beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose Pined for her lover, my Lord High-Nose, Till she entered a convent and took the veil-- And this is the end of my nonsense tale. A BABY IN THE HOUSE. I knew that a baby was hid in the house; Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry, But the husband went tiptoeing ’round like a mouse, And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby; And there was a look on the face of that mother That I knew could mean only _one_ thing, and no other. “The _mother_” I said to myself; for I knew That the woman before me was certainly that, For there lay in the corner a tiny cloth shoe, And I saw on the stand such a wee little hat; And the beard of the husband said plain as could be, “Two fat, chubby hands have been tugging at me.” And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book, And a dog that would bark if you pulled on a string; And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look; And I said to myself, “There is no other thing But a babe that could bring about all this, and so That one is in hiding here somewhere, I know.” I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more, And heard not a sound, yet I knew I was right; What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor, The book and the toy, and the faces so bright? And what made the husband as still as a mouse? I am sure, _very_ sure, there’s a babe in that house. THE FOOLISH ELM. The bold young Autumn came riding along One day where an elm-tree grew. “You are fair,” he said, as she bent down her head, “Too fair for your robe’s dull hue. You are far too young for a garb so old; Your beauty needs color and sheen. Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold Befitting the grace of a queen.