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A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book One by Ada M. Skinner, Frances Gillespy Wickes, Maud Petersham,

By Ada M. Skinner, Frances Gillespy Wickes, Maud Petersham, Miska Petersham

First quantity of A kid's personal ebook of Verse, a three-volume set deliberate to be used through the 4 fundamental years. This surprisingly effective number of poetry used to be chosen with the kid's pursuits in brain. contains sound rhymes and jingles to attract the ear, descriptive poems to create pictures within the imagination, lullabies and lyrics to hot the guts, and story-telling poems to stir the mind's eye. Attractively illustrated by way of Maud and Miska Petersham. appropriate for a while five to eight.

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Extra info for A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book One

Example text

Croak," said the mother; "We croak," said the nine— So they croaked and they splashed Where the quiet pools shine. Over in the meadow In a dark little den, Lived a gray mother spider And her little spiders ten. "Spin," said the mother; "We spin," said the ten— So they spun lace webs In their dark little den. Over in the meadow, In the soft summer even, Lived a mother firefly And her little flies eleven. "Glow," said the mother; "We glow," said the eleven— So they glowed like stars In the soft summer even.

J. G. HOLLAND Baby Seed Song Little brown seed, oh! little brown brother, Are you awake in the dark? " the lark says, "waken and dress you, Put on your green coats and gay, Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you— Waken! " Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, What kind of flower will you be? I'll be a poppy—all white, like my mother; Do be a poppy like me. What! you're a sunflower? How I shall miss you When you're grown golden and high! But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; Little brown brother, good-by!

White sheep, white sheep, Where do you go? " —ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON Pussy-Cat Mew Pussy-Cat Mew jumped over a coal And in her best petticoat burned a great hole. Pussy-Cat Mew shall have no more milk Till she has mended her gown of silk. Seven Little Chicks Seven little chicks go, "Peep, peep, peep," Hunting where the grasses grow Deep, deep, deep. Then the mother hen calls, "Cluck, cluck, cluck," Wishing every little chick Luck, luck, luck. —WILHELMINA SEEGMULLER Once I Saw a Little Bird Once I saw a little bird Come hop, hop, hop.

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