When grandmama was little-- It was years and years ago, In what folks call, at this time, The old-fashioned days, you know-- Why, she had such a perfect time, The best you ever saw: We wish that we’d been little Same time as grandmama. She tells us all about it, And then, if we are good, And just sit still and listen, The way all children should, And never interrupt a bit, Or question ’bout the rest Till she’s all through, she shows us The things up in her chest. I can’t begin to tell you The half of what is there: The rag-dolls soiled and faded That haven’t any hair, And toys, and--oh, yes!--lady-dolls, And, folded with the rest, A little rose-bud muslin frock, Her one-time very best. And there’s her picture taken In this self-same gown, With ruffles reaching to the waist And panties showing down; Hair parted in the middle; Over each ear a curl: Oh! but our grandmama was pretty! When a little girl! HAROLD’S LAMENT Blamed if I see any fun In being a boy, With ev’rybody trying Their hardest to annoy! It’s “Harold” here, and “Harold” there Until they have me sick Of “Run along!”--“Don’t be slow!”-- Or “Hurry up; be quick!” First some one sends me down-stairs, I run with might and main; Before I’m half-way there it’s turn And run right up again! And sure as I go out to play, Or have a little fun, I’m called straight in: there’s something else A-waiting to be done! I just believe I’ll run away; Pack all my things and go! Can’t see the use of staying ’round And being treated so! For I just bet when they were small, Not _one_ of them would do Half of the errands and the things That I’m expected to! MRS. SPIDER Brother Dick and I one day Watched Mrs. Spider spin away: My, how she spun, and spun, and spun, Until she had her web all done! Then, brother Dick, he said to me: “Now, where can Mr. Spider be?” We watched, but didn’t see him come, So I guess he couldn’t have lived at home. THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL