When Grandma Tucks Me In...

When Grandma Tucks Me In

Mamma puts me to bed o' nights,
And after I have said my prayers.
She sits and talks awhile before
She leaves me and goes back down stairs.

And when I am about asleep,
I hear a whisper, "Little Min!"
And slipping softly to my bed,
My Grandma comes and tucks me in.

I'm glad for Mamma's thoughtful care,
Her talks of goodness and of sin -
Please don't tell her I could not sleep
'Thout Grandma came and tucked me in.

The Old Sampler

The Old Sampler

I found it in the attic,
All covered o'er with grime.
Scarce could I read it's letters,
So faded now by time.
A queer, old-fashioned sampler,
My tears bedew each line.
Grandmother set these stitches.
When she was "aged nine."

I seem to see her working
If I but close my eyes,
Dear wee one, bravely tackling
Her stent. So great it's size!
With patience rare she wove them,
These gaudy stitches fine.
How I love each straggling one!
"Cordelia, aged nine."

The sampler is an heir-loom
We'll always hold most dear.
It sets for us the lesson
That we should persevere.
Your patience made you saintly,
Your memory we'll enshrine,
Your virtues try to copy,
"Cordelia, aged nine."

Two Proverbs

Two Proverbs

My Mamma always says to us -
To me and Tom and Kate -
"Oh, hurry, hurry, hurry now!
To school you will he late!

You've heard it often. I am sure
The proverb you should know
About the tortoise, and the hare
Who lost, 'cause he was slow."

But Grandma always says to us.
"Now why this anxious haste?
Try to be calm and cool, my dears.
Remember, 'haste makes waste.' "

I am not wise enough to know
Which way I should prefer
For living by, but I am sure
Grandma's is pleasanter!

I'll Be Your Valentine

I'll Be Your Valentine

I took some paper, pen and ink,
And tried so hard to make
A pretty one and write on it
"For your own dear, sweet sake."
But soon I found that drawing things
Is clearly not my line,
But if you think I'll do for one
I'll be your valentine.

Perhaps I should have bought you one
But cents I had but few,
And really nothing they would get
Was good enough for yon.
I asked Mamma. "Why send such things
She said : "They are love's sign."
So, if I can mean that to you,
I'll be your valentine.

Of course you may get heaps of 'em:
I fear, tho', 'cause you're old,
That folks will think you know their love
Without a-being told.
So to make sure you will get one
That's extra nice and fine,
Why Grandma, if I'll fill the bill,
I'll be your valentine.

Contrast

Contrast

'Tis queer to think of our Grandmas,
That once they were but little girls,
And wore their hair in long pigtails,
Or else in funny, bobbing curls.

'Tis queer to think they ran and played,
And laughed and romped in childish glee.
I wonder if they ever tired,
And rested on their Mother's knee.

But sad to think they had to work,
And learn to sweep, and bake, and mend.
'Tis painful how they had to sit
And stitch those long seams without end.

There's much to envy 'bout those days,
And much looks most unpleasant, too.
I think I'd rather live to-day,
Because there is much less to do!

G-R-A-N-D-M-A

G-R-A-N-D-M-A

I'm four years old and can't know much.
I'm proud, though, that I write and spell
A great big word, and Mamma says
I really do it very well.

Course Mamma showed me how to print
This word - it's letters slow I'll say.
Can you pronounce it when I've done?
It's G-r-a-n-d-m-a.

When Grandma Loses Her Spec's

When Grandma Loses Her Spec's

Sometimes when Grandma's sewing,
She'll stop and say, "Dear me !
I had them just a while ago,
Where can my glasses be?"
I say, "I'll find them, Grandma,"
Then I look everywhere;
But wouldn't for the world she'd guess
I know just where they are.

I hunt around until I am
So tired I'm almost dead:
Then laugh and say, "Why Grandma dear.
They're right there on your head!"
What d'ye 'spose she tells me then?
It drives me almost wild, -
"I do declare! just every day 

I grow more like a child!"