d jump, and play,
You have been quiet long enough,
So run away, I say.

George, you and Lucy roll your hoops,
You on a stick can ride,
And nurse, with baby, run a race,
Or any play beside.

Or you may play at hounds and hare,
And chase it round and round,
But, as a fall may often chance,
Go on the grassy ground.

Or, if you like, beneath the hedge
To gather wild flowers fair,
Go, get your baskets, but be quick,
And I will meet you there.

And afterwards, Papa will make
One in your little play,
And he will try to run as fast
As you did yesterday.

The fresh, fresh air, so softly blows,
And there shines out the sun,
And active limbs and rosy cheeks
Will in the race be won.

For little boys and girls may romp,
And frisk, and jump, and play,
When book and lessons both are done,
So run away, I say.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE CUT.

Well, what's the matter? there's a face,
What, has it cut a vein?
And it is quite a shocking place;
Come, let us look again.

I see it bleeds, but never mind
That tiny little drop;
I don't believe you'll ever find
That crying makes it stop.

'Tis sad, indeed, to cry at pain,
For any but a baby;
If _that_ should chance to cut a vein,
We should not wonder, may be.

But such a man as you should try
To bear a little sorrow:
So run along, and wipe your eye,
'Twill all be well to-morrow.

SLEEPY HARRY.

I do not like to go to bed,
The sleepy little Harry said;
So, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say.

What a silly little fellow!
I should be asham'd to tell her.
Betty, you must come and carry
Very foolish little Harry.

The little birds are better taught,
They go to roosting when they ought;
And all the ducks and fowls you know
_They_ went to bed an hour ago.

The little beggar in the street,
Who wanders with his naked feet,
And has not where to lay his head,
O, he'd be _glad_ to go to bed.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

BREAKFAST AND PUSS.

Here's my baby's bread and milk,
For her lip as soft as silk;
Here's the basin, clean and neat;
Here's the spoon of silver sweet;
Here's the stool, and here's the chair
For my little lady fair.

No, you must not spill it out,
And drop the bread and milk about;
But let it stand before you flat,
And pray, remember pussy cat;
Poor old pussy cat that purrs
All so patiently for hers.

True she runs about the house,