ing it had stayed,
And half creeps softly out.
"Dear moon," I say, "don't be afraid!
No bogies are about."

[Illustration: Sympathy]

A SPRING SONG

Out in the woods,
Where the wild birds sing,
It is all alive
With the happy spring.

It gets in my feet,
And the first I know
They are dancing-glad,
And away they go.

I race with the brook
Till my breath is gone,
And it laughs at me
As it races on.

I rock with the trees,
And I sway and swing,
And make believe
I am part of the spring.

SECRETS

I know a man that's big and tall,
With glasses on his nose,
And canes and shiny hats and all
Such grown-up things as those;
But we have secrets I won't tell!
Here in the nursery,
Before they ring the dinner-bells
He's just a boy like me.

He comes home from the office, where
They think he's just a man
The same as they are, with his hair
All slick and spick and span.
Oh, don't I make it in a mess!
It makes us scream for joy.
"Sh--sh!" he says, "they mustn't guess
I'm nothing but a boy!"

And sometimes when the doorbell rings,
The girl knocks at the door.
"An' is the doctor in?" she sings,
A dozen times or more.
"Good-by, old man!" he says. "That bell
Means business. Here's your toy!"
And off he goes. I'll never tell
He's nothing but a boy.

[Illustration: Secrets]

SOMEBODY DID IT

Hunting, hunting, high and low,
Where do the caps and "tammies" go?
Ned's--he hung it, he knows he did,
Right on a nail, and it went and hid!
Rob's--"Well, mother, I'm almost sure
I hung it"--"Right on the parlor floor?"
"_Where_ is my 'Tam'?" cried Margery;
And the household echoes, "Where _can_ it be?"

"Somebody does it!" Yes, they do!
And not a person to "lay things to!"
Ned will sputter and Rob complain,
And Margery weeps till it looks like rain;
And the family puts its glasses on
And hunts and hunts till the day is gone;
Somebody! wicked old Somebody!
No end of trouble you make for me.

Hunting, hunting, here and there!
Rob's was under the Morris-chair;
Ned's, by a strange coincidence,
_Was_ on a nail--of the garden fence;
And Margery's little pink Tam-o'-shanter
I chanced to spy in a morning saunter
Out through the barn, where 'tis wont to hide
When they've been having a "hay-mow slide."