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THE CALL OF THE CHILDREN

KINDNESS, Kindness, come this way—

call to you!

Haste, O Kindness, to obey,

Make their dreams come true!

Let them know, though they are small,

On the big round earth

There is happiness for all,

Light and hope and mirth.

Haste away, O heart of blindness,

Seek the dark and hide;

Children's hands reach out to Kindness

And in Love confide.

Suns are bright on pastures green,

All the world is glad;

But

poor and vain the harvest's gain

If any child be sad!

-MEREDITH NICHOLSON

A VERSE FOR A CHILD'S ALBUM

HEY that write on canvas,

THEY that whey're but a

How soon they're but a name!

They that write on paper,

They pay a price for fame.

They that write on granite,

At them the lichens smile;

But they that write on human hearts

Write for a long while.

-JOSEPHINE DASKAM BACON.

FOR THE KIDDIES

HERE is a fair lady in Trenton,

TH

And what do you think she is bent on?

To get milk for the kiddies

By poems and griddies—

This clever young person at Trenton.

-GENERAL FRANCIS V. Greene.

THE MERBOY

I WISH I was a merboy

With jelly-fish instead

Of jelly from a tumbler
To eat upon my bread.

I'd rise up with the sunfish.

Beneath the bright green seas And go and pull the seaweeds From the sea-anemones.

(Of course it would be horrid To have to feed and pat

A catfish and a dogfish

For my dear dog and cat.)

But though they've schools for fishes
And porpoises, I know

There'd be no school for merboys,

So I would never go!

-MARGARET Widdemer.

THE TELEPHONE SPARROWS

THE

HE wires run North where the wild-goose flies

With the clouds of the early Spring,

And the wires run South where the marsh-crane cries

And the song-sparrows flit and sing.

Fly away, bluejay! Fly away, hawk!

The wire runs from sea to sea,

Where the telephone sparrows can sit and talk
While the song-sparrow sings in the tree.
The wires run East where the snipe snoops low-
Flying from sea to sea-

And West where the partridge and woodcock

go

Chickamy, Chickamy, Craney CrowWhisper me, whisper me, quick and low, All of the news of the world you know. The telephone sparrows are sitting arow And the song-sparrow sings in the tree.

-EDITH WYATT.

BUNNY COTTONTAIL AND MR. HAWK

UNNY COTTONTAIL was a little rabbit

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who lived on a sandy flat in Texas many, many miles away. There he romped about at play, kicked up his heels and had the finest kind of a time.

There was very little rain in that country, and no streams nor ponds, but the water that Bunny found in the green plants that he ate, kept him from being thirsty.

I was riding along in one of those big stage wagons such as you see in wild west shows, when I first saw Bunny sitting up and looking about.

It was so early in the morning that the sun was not in sight, yet it was nice and light.

I think that Bunny had just crawled out of his bed and was looking about for some breakfast. Suddenly a big hawk bird came flying along. He had a long hook on the end of his bill and four very long and very sharp claws. He, too, was hungry and was looking for something to eat.

Now, Mr. Hawk is very fond of little Bunnies. So when he saw Bunny Cottontail, he must have said to himself:

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