LULLABY BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR Kiver up yo' haid, my little lady, Hyeah de win' a-blowin' out o' do's. Angels is a-mindin' you, my baby, Keepin' off de Bad Man in de night. You don' fink de dakness gwine to bite? Mammy ain' afeard, you hyeah huh laffin'? Reckon dat you'll have to call agin. Reprinted by permission. THE REASON WHY BY MARY E. BRADLEY "When I was at the party," said Betty (aged just four), "A little girl fell off her chair, right down upon the floor; And all the other little girls began to laugh but me— I didn't laugh a single bit," said Betty, seriously. "Why not?" her mother asked her, full of delight to find That Betty-bless her little heart-had been so sweetly kind. "Why didn't you laugh, darling, or don't you like to tell?" "I didn't laugh," said Betty, "'cause it was me that fell!" HOW A BACHELOR SEWS ON A BUTTON ANONYMOUS This is a very laughable piece of pantomime. It is well to have a small table and a chair, but everything else is left to the imagination of the audience. The success of the selection depends upon the varied facial expression and other business. It is advisable to first practise with a needle and thread so as to get a correct imitation. First say to the audience: "Ladies and gentlemen, I shall endeavor to give you an imitation of how a bachelor sews on a button." Then seat yourself and take from the table an imaginary spool of thread. Hold it in your left hand and pull out several lengths with your right hand. Then bite the thread off and put the spool back on the table. Hold the end of the thread in your left hand, then wet the first finger and thumb of your right hand and make the thread into a point. Now start to thread your needle. The thread refuses to find the eye of the needle and there is a lot of laughable business here. Change your position frequently, and at every turn vary the facial expression. Then blow through the eye of the needle. Just as you think you have at last put the thread through, the needle is lost and you look all over for it. After some difficulty you find it on the floor. Then as you seat yourself again you find the thread in a snarl, so you take the spool again and pull off several fresh lengths. Try again to thread the needle and as you get it through the needle's eye, turn it very carefully around and take hold of the thread with your teeth, drawing it through slowly with appropriate facial expression. Now tie a knot in your thread and to make it secure bite it with your teeth. Reach to the table for your imaginary button and place it on the inside of your coat. Begin to sew, with difficulty at first, pulling the thread through at arm's length. At the third stitch prick your finger and jump as if in great pain. The thread gradually gets shorter. As you seem to gain facility you begin to smile. Then wind the thread around the button, make several short stitches, and bite it off with your teeth. Now stand and try to button your coat. You first feel for the button but can not find it. Then you look down at your coat, but there is no button there. You turn the coat over and discover that you have sewed the button on the inside. With a look of anger you pull the button off the coat, throw it violently on the floor, and exit hastily. CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS ANONYMOUS Deesa man liva in Italia a gooda longa time ago. He hada a greata heada ever since he was a kidda. Not a bigga heada likea de politicians nowaday-not a swella heada. His fadda keepa de standa in Italia. Sella de peanutta and de banan. Maka plente de mon. Christopher Colum he say, "Fadda, gimma de stamp, I go finda de new world." His fadda he laugh, "Ha! ha!" just so. Den Christopher he say, "Whata you maka fun? I betta you I finda new world." After a long time his fadda say, "You go finda new world, and bringa it over here." Den de olda man he buy him a grip-sack, an' giva him boodle, an' maka him a present of three ships to come over to deesa contra. Well, Christopher Colum he saila an' saila for gooda many day. He don't see any landa. An' he say, "I giva fiva-dollar-bill if I was back in Italia!" Well, he saila, an' he saila, an' vera soon he strika Coney Island. Den dat maka him glad! Very soon he coma to Castle Garden, an' den he walka up Broadway an' he feel very bada. He finda outa dat de Irish gang has gotta possession of New Yorka! He don't lika de Irish, an' de Shamrocka donta lika him. He donta go vera far before a pleasanter mana speaks to him. He say, "How-a-you do, Mista Jones? How a-de folks in Pittaburg?" Christopher Colum he say, "I notta Mista Jones; I reada the papers; I tinka you sella de green goods, ha? You go away, or I broka your jaw!" Den he shaka hees fista deesa way, an' de man he skedaddle. Den he tries to crossa de Broad-a-way, but it fulla de mud an' he canta swim. Very soon he sees a policeman cluba de mana, one, two, three times, an' he feel secka de stom'! Next he meeta de politicians uppa Tammany Hall an' dees wanta him to runna for Alderman. He getta plenty friend. He learna to "settom up" at de bar many times. Next day he hava heada lika deesa! His fadda writa: "Why you notta bringa back de new world? I like to hava de earth!" Christopher Colum he writa back dat New Yorka is already in de hands of de Shamrocka. Den he goes to Ohio and buys a place an' calla it after himself-Colum. Soon he goa broka an' taka de nexta train home in disgusta, because he read in de paper dat de Fair in '93 will be holda in Chicago! THE FLY ANONYMOUS The following is told in child dialect. She finds a fly and speaks to it affectionately: Ain't "Poor little fly! Ain't you got anyone to love you? you got any brothers or any sisters, little fly? Ain't you got any aunts, little fly? Ain't you got anyone to love you? Your mother loves you, little fly. (She slaps her hand and kills the fly.) Go home to your mother!" THE YARN OF THE "NANCY BELL" BY W. S. GILBERT 'Twas on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Ramsgate span, That I found alone on a piece of stone His hair was weedy, his beard was long, And I heard this wight on the shore recite "Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold, And he shook his fists, and he tore his hair, Till I really felt afraid, For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking, And so I simply said: "O elderly man, it's little I know Of the duties of men of the sea, And I'll eat my hand if I understand How you can possibly be "At once a cook and a captain bold, Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which And having got rid of a thumpin' quid, |