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Now Tom would be a driver, and Maria own. But readers of our Grown-up's go to sea,
Anthology will like to have it. It will And my papa's a banker, and as rich as take them back to old days. he can be,
IL the volume “Poems written for a But I, when I am stronger and can choose Child,” from the pen of "A," is a very what I'm to do,
quaint little anecdote in the same kind, Oh, Leerie, I'll go round at nights and entitled “Wooden Legs." A girl and light the lamps with you.
boy are telling each other what they For we are very lucky, with a lamp before would like to be:the door,
Then he said, “I'll be a soldier, And Leerie stops to light it, as he lights
With a delightful gun, so many more;
And I'll come home with a wooden leg, And oh, before you hurry by with ladder
As heroes have often done." and with light, Oh, Leerie, see a little child and nod to This is a new and acceptable ambition, him to-night.
but some questionable love sentiment is
then introduced and the interest evapIf I had to forget all the poems in the
orales. Indeed, in this variety of story “Child's Garden” and retain but one, writers are liable to go astray. SenI should, I think, choose "The Lamp- timent, a steed more apt than any other lighter." The last line
wanders to get the bit between its teeth, runs through the passages of the mind like away with them. In a desire to attain a gentle musical phrase. In "Poems Written for a Child” (1868), lost sight of. Children are too near the
a dramatic effect dramatic propriety is a volume in which the late Menella Bute
savage state for symmetrical senti. Smedley, and an anonymous writer ment. Still
, there are instances. Whitknown as “A,” collaborated, there are
tier's poem “In School-days" tells of one. some good “Looking forward” verses
He is describing the schoolhouse, called "A Boy's Aspirations," from Miss thiough whose windows the sun is Smedley's pen. Here are three stanzas
shining: out of the ten :
It touched the tangled golden curls,
And brown eyes full of grieving,
Of one who still her steps delayed,
When all the school were leaving. and fish; I'll get my feet wet whenever I wish.
For near her stood the little boy,
Her childish favor singled, I'll spend a hundred pounds every day;
His cap pulled low upon a face I'll have the alphabet quite done away;
Where pride and shame were mingled. I'll have a parrot without a sharp beak; I'll see a pantomime six times a week.
He saw her lift her eyes, he felt
The soft hand's light caressing, I'll have a rose-tree always in bloom;
And heard the tremble of her voice, I'll keep a dancing bear in mamma's room;
As if a fault confessing. I'll spoil my best clothes and not care a pin;
"I'm sorry that I spelt the word: I'll have no visitors ever let in.
I hate to go above you, These lines are good, although now and
Because," the brown eyes lower fell, then erroneous. The mistakes are due to
"Because, you see, I love you." ignorance of boy-nature. A boy, for It is prettily conceivable; but that kind example, neither wants a cricket-ball of thing may well be postponed. Chilmade of gold-it would be against the dren who love each other in this way laws_nor a rose-tree always in bloom. are not making the most of their opporNor would it strike him as peculiar tunities as privileged barbarians. To ecstasy to keep a dancing bear in his the same family belongs Mr. Dobson's mother's room; he would prefer it in his “Drama of the Doctor's Window.”
The best poetical expression of the Another class of poetry, which only love of girl and boy that I know is to be the adult should possess, is that which found in the two sonnets of George describes particular children. Many Eliot, called "Brother and Sister," poets Wordsworth pre-eminently – which might well be our sole represen- have attempted this kind, but, for the tatives of this class. Such love is most part, so rapt has been their admiralways worship, always based on admi- ing-almost worshipping-gaze, that in ration; it is almost always one-sided. the finished poem the child has been Affection, as we understand it-friend- only faintly visible through a golden ship on equal ground-being a civilized mist. In other cases the poet has made growth, comes later. Children are not the child a mere peg upon which to of civilization as we are. In this con- hang a thought of his own. But simple, nection I should like to quote the lines unaffected descriptions do exist. In entitled "Dry Bread,” from Victor “Lays for the Nursery" (bound up with Hugo's "L'Art d’être Grandpère,” which “Whistle Binkie,” that charming colenshrines for us a charming incident, lection of Scotch poems by minor writwhere the actors are not, to the casual ers) will be found the history of “Wee eye at least, girl and boy, but girl and Joukydaidles,” by James Smith, a very old man. The translation is by the Rev. human poem wl ich, probably unconerend Henry Carrington:
sciously, Mr. William Canton, the
author of "The Invisible Playmate," Jeanne to dry bread and the dark room who has for children a love that someconsigned
times becomes adoration, reduces to a For some misdeed; I, to my duty blind, couplet when of a certain notable "LitVisit the prisoner, traitor that I am!
tle Woman” he says: And in the dark slip her a pot of jam. Those in my realm, on whose authority
She is my pride, my plague, my rest, my Depends the welfare of Society, Were outraged. Jeanne's soft little voice She brings me sunshine of the heart, and
rack, my bliss, my bane, arose
softening of the brain. "I'll put no more my thumb up to my nose; No more I'll let the puss my fingers tear.” From Mr. Canton's last volume, “W. V., But they all cry, “That child is well aware
Her Book, and Various Verses,” I How weak and mean you are. She knows should take the poems entitled “Wings
of ola You always take to laughing when we
and Hands” and “Making Pansies." scold;
But enough of the Grown-up's Anthol
ogy. No government can stand; at every hour Role you upset. There is an end of power,
It is time now to explain whence the No laws exist. Naught keeps the child in contents of the Child's Anthology bound;
should be drawn. The names that come You ruin all.” I bow my head to ground, most naturally to mind are those of And say, “Your grievous charge I can't "Lewis Carroll” and Edward Lear; and oppose,
I would add Dr. Hoffmann, but that it is I'm wrong.
Yes, by indulgences like a mistake to separate his verses and those,
pictures. These twain would yield The people's ruin has been always many pages; I need not stop to parwrought.
ticularize since every one knows them Put me upon dry bread." "I'm sure we
so well. The “Percy Reliques" would ought And will.” Then Jeanne from her dark such modern ballads as “John Gilpin,"
be a rich source; and I should include corner cries, But low to me, raising her beauteous eyes and a few to be found in the works of
one or two of the Ingoldsby Legends, (Love gives the lion's courage to the lamb!) "And I will go and bring you pots of jam!”
less-known experimentalists. Among
these is "A," the lady from whom a Landor's "Rosina" is somewhat akin. quotation has already been made. In
“Poems written for a Child,” in “Child She cleaned the tent-stitch and the sam. Worla" and in “Child Nature," are pler, several capital pieces of humorous She cleaned the tapestry, which Narrative. There is, for instance, Fred's
ampler. story in “Child Nature," entitled Joseph going down into the pit, “John's Sin.” It tells of a giant who, And the Shunamite woman with the boy
in a fit. since conscience makes cowards of us all, became a cowherd for conscience' There is, of course, fun and fun. I sake, but is baulked at the ou set by an should, for example, omit Hood's comic inability to milk:
ballads—"Faithless Sally Brown” and
cognate pieces where I should include He could not milk her; he was skilled
Goldsmith's "Elegy on the Death of a In abstruse science; was renown'd
Mad Dog" and “Madame Blaize," alIn mathematics; he had Mill’d, Bain'd, Maurice'd, Hamilton'd, and though superficially they are akin. Brown'd.
Hood is for the agile adult brain. He
crackles rather than ripples, and chilHerodotus and Mr. Bright
dren want to be rippled. Moreover, He knew-but could not a milk a cow! punning is a dissolute habit; and of all
distressing developments none equals (The deleted lines, it may be mentioned paronomasia in a child. I should also in passing, are remarkable for contain.. omit nursery rhymes, because, unlike ing a new rhyme to cow. The ingenious little boys, they should be heard and not “A” presses the author of “The Bothie seen. Only antiquarians and folklorists of Tober na Vuolich" into that service.) should ever read nursery rhymes. A While the giant was bemoaning this great part of the pleasure with which in incapacity, a dwarf came by, milked the after days we greet the nursery rhymes cow, boxed the giant's ears, and led him dear to us in the Golden Age (as Mr. as prisoner to a farm, where his size Kenneth Grahame calls it), consists in became serious embarrassment.
recalling the kind lips by which they Shortly afterwards he died. The author were orally transmitted. The voice, the remarks sententiously:
look, the laugh-all hold us again for
one rich flashing moment. A giant in a little room
Among poets who can with knowledge Alive, is an uncommon bore;
describe for us child life, both subjecA giant dead, besides the gloom, Is such a trouble on the floor.
tive and objective, we are fortunate in
possessing Mr. James Whitcomb Riley. In the same class are several of the Mr. Riley is a New Englander, and the pieces in "Lilliput Levee,” by “Matthew boy to whom he introduces us is a New Browne,” notably the introductory Englander too, speaking the Hoosier verses, which tell of the revolution, the dialect, but none the less boy for that. "Ballad of Frodgedobbulum's Fancy," Let Mr. Riley's right to speak for chil“Shockheaded Cicely and the Bears," dren be found in these two Hoosier and “Clean Clara.” Frodgedobbulum stanzas called “Uncle Sidney,"—it is
A vulgar giant, who wore no gloves,
And very pig-headed in his loves! Cleanliness was Clean Clara's passion. She cleaned "a hundred thousand things:"
Sometimes, when I bin bad,
An' pa “correcks” me nen,
I'm allus good again;
She cleaned the mirror, she cleaned the
cupboard. All the books she Indian-rubbered.
'Cause Uncle Sidney says,
An' takes me up an' smiles“The goodest mens they is ain't good
As baddest little childs!"
These lines are of course too incendiary in tone to be included in our children's Frost) is employed to make the picture book-every parent and nurse in the more real and vivid, is good for children. country would be up in arms—but they It stimulates the imagination, and that, might well be placed on the title page of in this world, is a most desirable prothe other volume. Mr. Riley, however, ceeding. There is a capital poem by has written well for both our anthol. William Howitt beginning:ogists. The child, happily undiscrim.
The wind one morning sprang up from inative of social grade, is always a hero
sleep, worshipper, always, but innocently, Saying, “Now for a frolic! now for a leap!" envious. His hero is the handy man, the postman, the lamplighter, the game. which I have not heard since I was in keeper. To be with the great man is words of one syllable, yet to this hour his ambition and joy, to hear him speak, I never see a gusty day without recallto watch him make things. Mr. Riley isz the piece, and thinking momentarily expresses in racy musical verse this of the wind as a huge, humanized, pracyoung passion. Every boy who has tical-joking rebel. I don't claim to be a krown boyhood at all was once envious better citizen for this memory; but life of a good-natured Jack-of-all-trades, the is more icteresting. Raggedy Man's correlative. Look at One of the larger sections of the Mr. Riley's description of the hero:- Child's Anthology would consist of
what may à called dissuasive verse; 0! the Raggedy Man! He works for pa; the chief producers of which are Jane An' he's the goodest man ever yon saw!
and Ann Taylor, author of “Original He comes to our house every day. An' waters the horses, and feeds 'em hay; make a book of verse to please children
Poems,” the first deliberate effort to' An' be opens the shed-an' we all 'ist laugh When he drives out our little old wobble-ly first and other people afterwards. Alcalf;
though seventy years and more have An' nen-ef our hired girl says he can
passed since this collection of lyrics ard He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. tragedies first appeared, the book still Ain't he a awful good Raggedy Man? sways the nursery. In this continued Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! popularity we may perhaps find another
proof of the distaste of children for W'y the Raggedy Man-he's ist so good
poetry. The manner is prosaic, almost H: splits the kindlin' and chops the wood; bald; the matter is, beyond words, allurAn' nen he spades in our garden, too,
ing. The fascination excited by a hisAn' does most things 'at boys can't do.
tory of human disaster is ever powerful; He climbed clean up in our big tree
and the author who deals faithfully An' shooked a apple down fer me
with elemental faults and passions is An' nother'n, too, fer 'Lizabuth AnnAn' nother'n, too, fer the Raggedy Man- assured of longevity. Jane and Ann ain't he a awful good Raggedy Man? Taylor did this. They took cruelty and Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! greed, covetousness and theft, im
patience and anger, and made them the We would have in the Child's Anthol- centre of human narratives; vividly real ogy the Raggedy Man's account of the and human narratives — that is the han in the moon, which there is no secret of their power. Children never space to quote. We would also have change; the same things that interested Mr. Eugene Field's Dutch lullaby, the infant Moses interest infants to-day; “Wynken, Blynk and Nod,” which and there is still something not unatis well known; and William's Miller's tractive in the misfortunes of others. "Wee Willie Winkie,” which is better Hence is it that the "Original Poems" known. Another but less popular hold little audiences spell-bound in 1896 Scotch poem, belonging to the same. Just as they did in 1826, and will hold family, is “Wee Davie Daylicht,” by them spell-bound in the thirtieth cenRobert Tennant. This class of poetry, tury, if mothers are wise. Their inwherein a bold figure (such as Jack fuence for virtue is another matter.
They are popular, I fancy, rather for And not only is there his wealth to adtheir dramatic interest than their didac. mire, but look at the splendid liberty of ticism. Sinners in real life are not so the boy-he could fling aside his slate easily daunted. At any rate they would and books whenever he wished! be included in the Child's Anthology, One does not realize how admirable not for their dissuasive powers, but for was the work of Jane and Ann Taylor their capacity to interest.
until it is compared with that of inferior “False Alarms" is one of the most writers. They had a rival in Louisa terrible; the story of Little Mary, who Watts, whose efforts to be found in a called for her mamma in alarm when volume painfully entitled “Pretty Little there was no cause, by way of pleas. Poems for Pretty Little People”-atantry, and laughed when her mamma tempt to cover the same ground. Her came. In the end she catches fire in style lacks the vigor of that of her her bedroom, cries vainly for help, and exemplars; but none the less the book is almost incinerated. Who (for attained very considerable popularity, twenty-four hours) after this, could among parents and instructors, in the play with fire or hoax a parent?
forties and fifties. She seems to have In “The Boys and the Apple-tree,” considered narrative less , her strength disaster is indeed averted, but so skil- than the popularization of science, a fully that we experience a thrill as in- large portion of the book being occupied tense as if the catastrophe had really by lessons, presented in the most disoccurred. Tommy and Billy see apples tressing doggerel, in astronomy, minhanging over a wall. Tommy would eralogy, botany, and other branches of steal some, but Billy, the blameless learning. The lecturer is mamma, and Billy, says No—"To steal is a sin." the audience, consisting of Ann, Julia, They call on Bobby, to whose father, it Harry, and others of a strikingly conseems, the garden belongs, and he, in siderable family, are always disproporthe course of the afternoon, shows them tionately grateful for the information
man-trap guarding the identical tendered to them. Thus:apples which Tommy had coveted, a
One evening very fine and clear, weapon of peculiar horror.
Ann and Eliza walking were, Cried Tommy, “I'll mind what my good
And being very near the sea,
They viewed it each attentively.
Curious Eliza very soon
What water is? If you can tell, We are to suppose that did mend.
Ann and myself would like it well." The sisters Taylor were wise not to carry their histories too far.
Mamma, delighted to be drawn, breaks “Greedy Richard” has a fine aristo- off at once, at a hand gallop:cratic flavor:
The element of water is "I think I want some pies this morning,"
Composed of only two gases; Said Dick, stretching himself and yawn- One part of hydrogen is there, ing;
Four oxygen, or vital air, So down he threw his slate and books,
and so on. And saunter'd to the pastry-cook's.
But Louisa Watts's highest achieveThere, of course, he ate too much. To ment was the ballad entitled “The this day, if any one were to say to me Benefit of Learning and Good Besuddenly, “Quick, tell me who is your haviour.” In this poem the progress of ideal among millionaires," the figure a virtuous and industrious child from that would jump to my mind would be penury to wealth and position is narGreedy Richard. I should not think of rated with convincing spirit. In the Mr. Barney Barnato until afterwards. hope that we all may profit by her ex