My room is the one where they clatter- Not little mamma! That the youngsters are ingrates don't say. As one does the old clock on the stair, That one's used to having about, But it's plain that papa Isn't little mamma. Thus when shadows come stealing anear, And things in the firelight look queer; When shadows the play-room enwrap, They never climb into my lap And toy with my head, smooth and bare, As they do with mamma's shining hair; Nor feel round my throat and my chin Nor lock my neck in a loving vise And say they're "mousies"- that's mice And will nibble my ears, Will nibble and bite With their little mice-teeth, so sharp and so white, That's what they say and do to mamma. If, mildly hinting, I quietly say that My moustache tickles. If storming their camp I seize a pert shaver, And take as a right what was asked as a favor, 66 It is, "O Papa, How horrid you are You taste exactly like a cigar! But though the rebels protest and pout, Under the saucy and petulant "Oh," The doubtful "Yes," or the naughty "No," And down in the heart that no one sees, WHERE'S MY BABY? ANONYMOUS. WHERE'S my baby? Where's my baby? In my arms I held one fondly. And each pink and chubby toe. Where's my baby? I remember And the first sweet words he said; And the bright curls on his head. Where's my baby? In the door-yard Where's my baby? Where's my baby? LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. LITTLE Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay, away, An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep, An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep; An' all us other children, when the supper things is done, We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun A-list'nin' to the witch tales 'at Annie tells about, Ef you Don't Watch Out! Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his pray'rs bawl, An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all! An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press, An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess, But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout! An' the gobble-uns 'll git you Ef you Watch Out! An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin, An' make fun of ever' one an' all her blood-an'-kin, there, |