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Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all ?"
I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeons In the round tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And molder in dust away.
When my mamma gave me that ribbon � I was playing out in the yard�
She said to me most expressly, " Here's a ribbon for Hildegarde."
And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde saw me do it;
But I said to myself, " Oh, never mind, I don't be�lieve she knew it!"
But I know that she knew it now, and I just be�lieve, I do,
That her poor little heart was broken, and so her head broke too.
Oh, my baby! my little baby! I wish my head had been hit!
For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked a bit.
But since the darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of course;
We will take my little wagon, Nurse, and you shall be the horse;
And I'll walk behind and cry; and we'll put her in this, you see�
This dear little box�and we'll bury her then un�der the maple-tree.
And papa will make me a tombstone, like the one
he made for my bird; And he'll put what I tell him on it�yes, every
single word! I shall say: " Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll
who is dead; She died of a broken heart and a dreadful crack
in the head!"
THE DEAD DOLL.
You needn't be trying to comfort me. I tell you
my dolly is dead! There's no use saying she isu't, with a crack like
that in her head. It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt much to
have my tooth out that day; And then, when the man 'most pulled my head off,
you hadn't a word to say.
And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when
you say you can mend it with glue! As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just
suppose it was you! You might make her look all mended�but what
do I care for looks ? Why, glue's for chairs, and tables, and toys, and
the backs of books!
My dolly! my own little daughter! Oh, but it's
the awfullest crack! It just makes me sick to think of the sound when
her head went whack! Against the horrible brass thing that holds up the
' little shelf. Now, Nursey, what makes you remind me ? I know
that I did it myself.
I think you must be crazy�you'll get her another
head! What good would forty heads do her ? I tell you
my dolly is dead! And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant
new spring hat! A.nd I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to
tie on that horrid cat!
"WHAT IS THE SNOW FOR?" Maey Toleb Pekt.
" What is the snow for ?" Dost ask, O my child, Why do the little white flakelets come down ?
To make for the trees, as they bend their bare heads, A pure and a beautiful crown.
"What is the snow for?" To make the poor earth, Which has lost all her covers of green,
A mantle so soft and so warm, she may rest Till she wakes when the primrose is seen.
" What is the snow for ?" To make for my child A path which her dear little feet