Blow me up and let me fly,
Like a piece of thistle-down--
Swing me up towards the sky!
LEFT ALONE

MY cousins are gone out to walk,
Mama is called away,
And in Aunt Mary's drawing-room
I must not romp or play.


The door is shut, I cannot reach
To open it, and yet
I'm not afraid, because I know
Mama will not forget.


I will not kick the door, or scream,
Or make a foolish noise,
I'll try to be contented, though
I have not got my toys.


The blazing fire that burns so bright
I must not come too near,
Nor must I touch the pretty things
Upon the chiffonier.



Stay, there's one pleasant thing to do,
I never knew it fail--
I'll get the great old picture-book
And tell myself a tale.
A.K.

A FLY

COME and see this busy fly
Rub his skinny hands together,
Now he stops and wonders whether
He feels clean again and dry.


Is it to the left or right,
The way back to the window-pane?
He thinks he'll go and dance again,
He feels so tidied up and bright!

THE POSTMAN

THE postman has a weary face
His step is weary too,
But is it Mary Jane, or Grace,
Or Minnie, is it you
The postman looks so kindly at?
I

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