How thankful I should be to God,
Who gives me clothes and food,
A nice warm fire, a pleasant home,
And parents kind and good!
Mamma, I’ll always try to help
The hungry and the poor;
For those who are not warmed and fed,
I pity, I am sure.
THE CHILD WHO WOULD NOT BE WASHED
[Illustration: Letter D.]
“Don’t wash me, pray, mamma, today,”
I once heard little Jennie say,
“For oh! so very hard you rub,
I never want to see my tub.”
“O, very well,” her mother said;
“I’ll put you back again to bed;
And you must in your night-gown stay,
Nor come down stairs at all to-day.”
And then I heard Miss Jennie cry,
And beg mamma to let her try;
And say, as she had done before,
That she’d so naughty be no more.
Her mother turned and left her there;
She heard her step upon the stair;
But in her chamber, all day long,
She staid alone, for doing wrong.
She heard her sister jump and run,
And longed to join her in her fun;
Her brother made a snow-man high;
But she upon her bed must lie.
She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring,
And to the door come clattering;
But Jennie could not go to ride
In night-clothes by her father’s side.
And glad was she, as you may guess,
The next day to put on her dress;
She ran and told her mother then
She never would do so again.
Don’t kill the spider, little Fred,
But come and stand by me,
And watch him spin that slender thread,
Which we can hardly see.
How patiently, now up, now down,
He brings that tiny line!
He never stops, but works right on,
And weaves his web so fine.
You could not make a thread so small,
If you should try all day;
So never hurt him, dear, at all,
But spare him in your play.
[Illustration: Letter N.]
Now a new day just begun,
I’ll try to spend it well;
That I may have, when eveningcomes,
No naughty deeds to tell.
So through my life may every day
Be better than the past;
That God may take me, when I die,
To live in heaven at last.
[Illustration: Letter T.]
The sun has set behind the hill,
The bird is sleeping in his nest;
And now, when all around is still,
I lay me down to welcome rest.
May the kind God, who lives above,
And watches o’er us day and night,
Bless us, and grant us, in His love,
Again to see the morning light.