Copyright 1888 By Worthington Co·New York·

+A Story.+

“+Please+ tell me a story, Peggy.” “Well, then, and what shall it be? About a star or a fairy, Or children like you and me?”

“Not children. I’m tired of children, They always do something wrong. I think a star would be better; Don’t make the story too long.”

“Well, once a bright star was shining, ’Way up in the dark, night sky, And it had a little sister, That was shining too, close by.”

And the moon was their own mother, And she said they must come in; But they said they didn’t want to. They’d like to see day begin

“So they shone, and shone, and shone there, Till they had a great surprise: For up came the sun so brightly, That it most put out their eyes.”

bright light]

+What Baby is Like.+

+Baby+ grows like a flower, Baby is fresh as a rose, Daintily hued as the blossoms, As the fragrant apple blows.

Baby is sweet as a song is, The song of a twilight bird. He’s bright as the lark’s gay trilling, That early dawn has stirred.

Baby shines as a star does, Gold gleams his darling head, White pillow clouds around him, Where he peeps out of bed.

Baby is dear as--O, baby! Nothing so dear can be, In all the wide world’s wonder, As this little baby to me.