leeping soundly,
Hop-o'-my-Thumb had heard,
And at the thought of wolves and woods, in terror
His little heart was stirred;

And so he lay and planned; and early dressed him,
And ran with all his might
Down to the river, where he filled his pockets
With pebbles small and white.

And, as they started for the wood, he lingered
Somewhat behind, and when
They came to dismal places, dropped in secret
A pebble now and then.

Thick grew the trees; 'twas twilight in their shadows,
Although broad day without;
But gay the laddies at the fagot-picking
Went scampering about,

And chattering like a flock of busy sparrows;
Till, having hungry grown,
They turned to ask their mother for their dinner,
And found they were alone!

Then all but Hop-o'-my-Thumb wailed out affrighted.
"Don't cry so hard!" said he.
"I'll find the path, if you'll but keep together
And try to follow me!"

By the white stones strewn on the dead pine needles,
Though night had fallen, he soon
Led the way out, and spied their humble cottage,
Low lying 'neath the moon.

They hurried near, and, pausing at the window,
Hop-o'my-Thumb climbed up,
And peeped within; his father and his mother
Were just about to sup.

Some one had paid them two gold guineas
On an old debt; and when
They went for beef for two, they were so hungry
They bought enough for ten.

Quick as a flash the ravenous seven went rushing
Pell-mell into the house,
Nor left, of the fine roast upon the table,
Enough to feed a mouse.

It all went well long as the money lasted.
When that was gone, once more
The father planned to take them to the forest,
And leave them as before.

Hop-o'-my-Thumb, who heard again the plotting,
Crept from his trundle-bed,
But in the place of pebbles in his pockets
Put only crumbs of bread.

Again they went, through brier and through thicket,
Into the darksome wood;
Again he dropped his clues along the pathway
Behind him when he could.

But when once more they found themselves deserted,
And little Hop-o'-my-Thumb
Felt sure to lead them out, he found the finches
Had e