BY A.E.W.
I have a little brother,
And his name is Little Lewy;
His starry eyes are bright as flowers
And they are twice as dewy.
Sometimes the dew o'erflows them,
And trickles down his cheeks;
And then he cries so hard, you'd think
He wouldn't stop for weeks.
Then my other little brother,
A bough of willow bringing,
Drives all the dew-drops far away,
By waving it and singing:
[Illustration]
"One, two, free, fo', five, six, _seven_ tears!
You'll be as old as farver in forty sousand years.
Drate big men don't have tears, so let me wipe 'em dry;
In forty sousand years from now you'll never, never cry."
This other little brother,
Whose name is Little Bert,
Frowns in a dreadful manner
Whenever he is hurt;
The wrinkles right above his nose
Look like the letter M,
He keeps them there so long, he must
Be very fond of them.
Then my little brother Lewy,
The branch of willow bringing,
Sends all the naughty frowns away,
By waving it and singing:
[Illustration]
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G;
How many wrinkles are there? One, two, three!
We'll send them all off quickly, or they'll climb up to your hair,
And then to-morrow morning you'll have lots of tangles there.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76