Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/97

Rh "Tell me your name, my little maid:
 * I can't find you without it."

"My name is Shiny-eyes," she said. "Yes; but your last name?" She shook her head: "Up to my house 'ey never said
 * A single word about it."

"But, dear," I said, "what is your name?"
 * "Why, didn't you hear me told you?

Dust Shiny-eyes." A bright thought came: "Yes, when you're good. But when they blame You, little one,—is it just the same
 * When mamma has to scold you?"

"My mamma never scolds," she moans,
 * A little blush ensuing,

"'Cept when I've been a-frowing stones; And then she says [the culprit owns],— 'Mehitabel Sapphira Jones,
 * What has you been a-doing?'"

Anna F. Burnham.

have a foine tinement, close be the bridge,
 * Wid three pairs of stairs and a farm.

The farm's on the roof, but it's ilegant just
 * For to kape the small childer from harm.

The railin' is high. Shure it's tired they get
 * From playin' "puss corner" an' "peep,"

An' 'twould do your heart good in the twilight to see
 * Ould McGue put the baby to sleep.

McGue is my man, an' a daisy he is,
 * For after the gas-house shuts down

He comes wid his pail (faith, the coal on his face
 * Gives the shake to the boys of the town).

Then he sits down wid me, an' his poipe, an' his chair,
 * Comfortable, cosey, an' deep,

Wid the kid in his arms; it would break you to see
 * Ould McGue put the baby to sleep.