This calico mare both gallops and trots
  While whisking you off to Bumpville;
  She paces, she shies, and she stumbles, in spots,
  In the tortuous road to Bumpville! 
  And sometimes this strangely mercurial steed
  Will suddenly stop and refuse to proceed,
  Which, all will admit, is vexatious indeed,
  When one is en route to Bumpville!

  She’s scared of the cars when the engine goes “Toot!”
  Down by the crossing at Bumpville;
  You’d better look out for that treacherous brute
  Bearing you off to Bumpville! 
  With a snort she rears up on her hindermost heels,
  And executes jigs and Virginia reels—­
  Words fail to explain how embarrassed one feels
  Dancing so wildly to Bumpville. 
  It’s bumpytybump and it’s jiggytyjog,
  Journeying on to Bumpville;
  It’s over the hilltop and down through the bog
  You ride on your way to Bumpville;
  It’s rattletybang over boulder and stump,
  There are rivers to ford, there are fences to jump,
  And the corduroy road it goes bumpytybump,
  Mile after mile to Bumpville!

  Perhaps you’ll observe it’s no easy thing
  Making the journey to Bumpville,
  So I think, on the whole, it were prudent to bring
  An end to this ride to Bumpville;
  For, though she has uttered no protest or plaint,
  The calico mare must be blowing and faint—­
  What’s more to the point, I’m blowed if I ain’t! 
  So play we have got to Bumpville.

[Illustration:  KATHERINE KOHLSAAT.  “TO HER,” WROTE MR. FIELD ON THE PHOTOGRAPH, “THE HUSH-A-BY SONG ENTITLED ‘SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO,’ IS DEDICATED.”]

SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO!

So, so, rock-a-by so!  Off to the garden where dreamikins grow; And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes, And here is a kiss on your dimpledown cheek, And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies In a beautiful garden way up in the skies Which you seek.  Now mind these three kisses wherever you go—­ So, so, rock-a-by so!

  There’s one little fumfay who lives there, I know,
  For he dances all night where the dreamikins grow;
  I send him this kiss on your droopydrop eyes. 
  I send him this kiss on your rosyred cheek. 
  And here is a kiss for the dream that shall rise
  When the fumfay shall dance in those far-away skies
  Which you seek. 
  Be sure that you pay those three kisses you owe—­
  So, so, rock-a-by so!

  And, by-low, as you rock-a-by go,
  Don’t forget mother who loveth you so! 
  And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes,
  And here is her kiss on your peachypink cheek,
  And here is her kiss for the dreamland that lies
  Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies
  Which you seek—­
  The blinkywink garden where dreamikins grow—­
  So, so, rock-a-by so!

[Illustration:  PARK YENOWINE, “THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN,” WROTE MR. FIELD ON THE PHOTOGRAPH, “TO WHOM ‘SEEIN’ THINGS AT NIGHT’ IS DEDICATED.”