Some Things to think About

Some Things to think About

(s ist er)tw ist edwan der edaw ful(r oam)f oam ingech o(under)th underpar entstrun dle

When the little boy ran away from home,The birds in the tree-top knew,And they all sang, “Stay!” but he wandered awayUnder the skies of blue.And the wind came whispering from the tree,“Follow me, follow me!”And it sang him a song that was soft and sweetAnd scattered the roses before his feetThat day, that day,When the little boy ran away.The violets whispered, “Your eyes are blueAnd lovely and bright to see,And so are mine, and I’m kin to you,So dwell in the light with me.”But the little boy laughed, while the wind in gleeSang, “Follow, follow me!”And the wind called the clouds from their home in the skiesAnd said to the violet, “Shut your eyes!”That day, that day,When the little boy ran away.Then the wind played leapfrog over the hillsAnd twisted each leaf and limb;And all the rivers and all the rillsWere foaming mad with him;And ’twas dark as the darkest night could be,But still came the wind’s voice, “Follow me!”And over the mountain and up from the hollowCame echoing voices with, “Follow him; follow!”That awful day,When the little boy ran away.Then the little boy cried, “Let me go, let me go!”For a scared, scared boy was he.But the thunder growled from a black cloud, “No!”And the wind roared, “Follow me!”And an old gray owl from a tree-top flew,Saying: “Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?”And the little boy sobbed, “I’m lost away!And I want to go home where my parents stay.”O, the awful dayWhen the little boy ran away!Then the moon looked out from a cloud and said:“Are you sorry you ran away?If I light you home to your trundle bed,Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?”And the little boy promised—and cried and cried—He never would leave his mother’s side,And the moonlight led him over the plain;And his mother welcomed him home again.But, O, what a dayWhen the little boy ran away!

When the little boy ran away from home,The birds in the tree-top knew,And they all sang, “Stay!” but he wandered awayUnder the skies of blue.And the wind came whispering from the tree,“Follow me, follow me!”And it sang him a song that was soft and sweetAnd scattered the roses before his feetThat day, that day,When the little boy ran away.The violets whispered, “Your eyes are blueAnd lovely and bright to see,And so are mine, and I’m kin to you,So dwell in the light with me.”But the little boy laughed, while the wind in gleeSang, “Follow, follow me!”And the wind called the clouds from their home in the skiesAnd said to the violet, “Shut your eyes!”That day, that day,When the little boy ran away.Then the wind played leapfrog over the hillsAnd twisted each leaf and limb;And all the rivers and all the rillsWere foaming mad with him;And ’twas dark as the darkest night could be,But still came the wind’s voice, “Follow me!”And over the mountain and up from the hollowCame echoing voices with, “Follow him; follow!”That awful day,When the little boy ran away.Then the little boy cried, “Let me go, let me go!”For a scared, scared boy was he.But the thunder growled from a black cloud, “No!”And the wind roared, “Follow me!”And an old gray owl from a tree-top flew,Saying: “Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?”And the little boy sobbed, “I’m lost away!And I want to go home where my parents stay.”O, the awful dayWhen the little boy ran away!Then the moon looked out from a cloud and said:“Are you sorry you ran away?If I light you home to your trundle bed,Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?”And the little boy promised—and cried and cried—He never would leave his mother’s side,And the moonlight led him over the plain;And his mother welcomed him home again.But, O, what a dayWhen the little boy ran away!

When the little boy ran away from home,The birds in the tree-top knew,And they all sang, “Stay!” but he wandered awayUnder the skies of blue.And the wind came whispering from the tree,“Follow me, follow me!”And it sang him a song that was soft and sweetAnd scattered the roses before his feetThat day, that day,When the little boy ran away.

When the little boy ran away from home,

The birds in the tree-top knew,

And they all sang, “Stay!” but he wandered away

Under the skies of blue.

And the wind came whispering from the tree,

“Follow me, follow me!”

And it sang him a song that was soft and sweet

And scattered the roses before his feet

That day, that day,

When the little boy ran away.

The violets whispered, “Your eyes are blueAnd lovely and bright to see,And so are mine, and I’m kin to you,So dwell in the light with me.”But the little boy laughed, while the wind in gleeSang, “Follow, follow me!”And the wind called the clouds from their home in the skiesAnd said to the violet, “Shut your eyes!”That day, that day,When the little boy ran away.

The violets whispered, “Your eyes are blue

And lovely and bright to see,

And so are mine, and I’m kin to you,

So dwell in the light with me.”

But the little boy laughed, while the wind in glee

Sang, “Follow, follow me!”

And the wind called the clouds from their home in the skies

And said to the violet, “Shut your eyes!”

That day, that day,

When the little boy ran away.

Then the wind played leapfrog over the hillsAnd twisted each leaf and limb;And all the rivers and all the rillsWere foaming mad with him;And ’twas dark as the darkest night could be,But still came the wind’s voice, “Follow me!”And over the mountain and up from the hollowCame echoing voices with, “Follow him; follow!”That awful day,When the little boy ran away.

Then the wind played leapfrog over the hills

And twisted each leaf and limb;

And all the rivers and all the rills

Were foaming mad with him;

And ’twas dark as the darkest night could be,

But still came the wind’s voice, “Follow me!”

And over the mountain and up from the hollow

Came echoing voices with, “Follow him; follow!”

That awful day,

When the little boy ran away.

Then the little boy cried, “Let me go, let me go!”For a scared, scared boy was he.But the thunder growled from a black cloud, “No!”And the wind roared, “Follow me!”And an old gray owl from a tree-top flew,Saying: “Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?”And the little boy sobbed, “I’m lost away!And I want to go home where my parents stay.”O, the awful dayWhen the little boy ran away!

Then the little boy cried, “Let me go, let me go!”

For a scared, scared boy was he.

But the thunder growled from a black cloud, “No!”

And the wind roared, “Follow me!”

And an old gray owl from a tree-top flew,

Saying: “Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?”

And the little boy sobbed, “I’m lost away!

And I want to go home where my parents stay.”

O, the awful day

When the little boy ran away!

Then the moon looked out from a cloud and said:“Are you sorry you ran away?If I light you home to your trundle bed,Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?”And the little boy promised—and cried and cried—He never would leave his mother’s side,And the moonlight led him over the plain;And his mother welcomed him home again.But, O, what a dayWhen the little boy ran away!

Then the moon looked out from a cloud and said:

“Are you sorry you ran away?

If I light you home to your trundle bed,

Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?”

And the little boy promised—and cried and cried—

He never would leave his mother’s side,

And the moonlight led him over the plain;

And his mother welcomed him home again.

But, O, what a day

When the little boy ran away!

(ea gle)ea ger(h ush)cr ushmo mentquar relcoun try(r ope)h ope(m ean)b eangur glingfourpour ingsew edhul locru eltor rentboth era lasin stant ly

Once upon a time there was a poor old woman living in a village of a far country. She had gathered some beans and was making ready to cook them. She built a fire of sticks, but, as these were damp, they did not burn well. So she thrust in a handful of dry straw. Now the flames leaped up, and the sticks snapped and crackled in the blaze.

A live red coal flew out of the fire, fell on the ground beside a straw, and lay there smoking.Just then a bean dropped from the pot which the old woman was filling, rolled away, and came to rest close to the coal and the straw.

“Hullo, Mr. Coal,” said the straw. “How you smoke! Are you frightened? Where did you come from?”

“I just sprang out of that fire,” answered the coal. “Had I not jumped just as I did, I should now be nothing but ashes. My, look at that blaze!”

“I, too, jumped in the nick of time,” spoke up the bean. “That cruel old woman was just pouring me into the pot when I leaped over the edge, and here I am.”

“Yes, here you are, silly thing,” broke out the coal and the straw together. “But what are you going to do? As soon as the old woman turns around she will spy you, then back you’ll go into the pot. It’s hotter now than when you left it.”

“Don’t bother about me; think of yourselves,” answered the bean, angrily. “When the old woman picks me up, she’ll tread on you, Mr. Coal, and crush your life out. And you, Mrs. Straw, she’ll stick into the blaze. It’s hotter there than in the pot.”

“Come, come,” said the straw, softly, “let’s not quarrel. Let’s be friends and stick together. Perhaps we can save ourselves yet.”

“You are quite right, Mrs. Straw,” said the coal.

The bean said nothing, but she listened eagerly to the plans of the two others. These soon agreed to travel together to a far country, where they hoped to find their fortune. They set out without delay, and the bean rolled along behind.

Soon the three travelers came to a little gurgling brook. It seemed to them a mighty rushing and roaring torrent.

“Oh, dear, what shall we do now?” asked the bean, speaking for the first time since the journeybegan. “We can never get across these awful waters. Hear them thunder down the rocky cliffs!”

“Don’t worry, little Bean,” said the straw, proudly. “I’ll help you and Mr. Coal across in a twinkling.”

Thereupon the straw laid herself across the stream. She was just long enough to reach from bank to bank.

“Now walk over the bridge, Mr. Coal and Miss Bean,” called the straw.

The coal hastened on to the straw bridge while the bean watched in wonder. All went well until the middle of the stream was reached, when the bridge bent so low under the weight of the coal and the waters thundered so loudly that the coal stopped in fright.

The coal stood still for only a moment. But, alas, that was a moment too long.

The dry straw smoked, burst into a tiny flame,and broke in two. Down fell the coal into the water below and was instantly drowned. The burning straw bridge also fell into the water, which put out the flames, and the two pieces of straw went floating away down stream.

All this the little bean saw, watching safely from the bank. And she thought it the funniest thing that ever happened. So she laughed and she laughed—until she burst!

This would have been the end of little Miss Bean, had not a tailor passed that way just then. He was sorry for the poor bean, so he picked up the two parts tenderly, and quickly sewed them together. But the thread that he used was black. And ever since that time some beans have a black seam around them.

(tw ist)wh ist lingfernsNorthcom fort edgent ians

North Wind came whistling through the woodWhere the tender, sweet things grew—The tall fair ferns and the maiden hair,And the gentle gentians blue.“It’s very cold! Are we growing old?”They sighed, “What shall we do?”The sigh went up to the loving leaves.“We must help,” they whispered low.“They are frightened and weak, O brave old trees!But we love you well, you know.”And the trees said, “We are strong—make haste!Down to the darlings go.”So the leaves went floating, floating down,All yellow, and brown, and red,And the frail little trembling, thankful thingsLay still, and were comforted.And the blue sky smiled through the bare old trees,Down on their soft warm beds.—L. G. Warner.

North Wind came whistling through the woodWhere the tender, sweet things grew—The tall fair ferns and the maiden hair,And the gentle gentians blue.“It’s very cold! Are we growing old?”They sighed, “What shall we do?”The sigh went up to the loving leaves.“We must help,” they whispered low.“They are frightened and weak, O brave old trees!But we love you well, you know.”And the trees said, “We are strong—make haste!Down to the darlings go.”So the leaves went floating, floating down,All yellow, and brown, and red,And the frail little trembling, thankful thingsLay still, and were comforted.And the blue sky smiled through the bare old trees,Down on their soft warm beds.—L. G. Warner.

North Wind came whistling through the woodWhere the tender, sweet things grew—The tall fair ferns and the maiden hair,And the gentle gentians blue.“It’s very cold! Are we growing old?”They sighed, “What shall we do?”

North Wind came whistling through the wood

Where the tender, sweet things grew—

The tall fair ferns and the maiden hair,

And the gentle gentians blue.

“It’s very cold! Are we growing old?”

They sighed, “What shall we do?”

The sigh went up to the loving leaves.“We must help,” they whispered low.“They are frightened and weak, O brave old trees!But we love you well, you know.”And the trees said, “We are strong—make haste!Down to the darlings go.”

The sigh went up to the loving leaves.

“We must help,” they whispered low.

“They are frightened and weak, O brave old trees!

But we love you well, you know.”

And the trees said, “We are strong—make haste!

Down to the darlings go.”

So the leaves went floating, floating down,All yellow, and brown, and red,And the frail little trembling, thankful thingsLay still, and were comforted.And the blue sky smiled through the bare old trees,Down on their soft warm beds.

So the leaves went floating, floating down,

All yellow, and brown, and red,

And the frail little trembling, thankful things

Lay still, and were comforted.

And the blue sky smiled through the bare old trees,

Down on their soft warm beds.

—L. G. Warner.

—L. G. Warner.

(m outh)s outhsplen did(m ount ain)f ount ain

“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed.“One of us here would not be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the dewdrop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me out to the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we will stand.”And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dewdrops fed a fountain.

“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed.“One of us here would not be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the dewdrop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me out to the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we will stand.”And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dewdrops fed a fountain.

“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed.“One of us here would not be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”

“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,

As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed.

“One of us here would not be felt,

One of us here would quickly melt;

But I’ll help you, and you help me,

And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”

“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”

“Help one another,” the maple spray

Said to its fellow leaves one day;

“The sun would wither me here alone,

Long enough ere the day is gone;

But I’ll help you, and you help me,

And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”

“Help one another,” the dewdrop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”

“Help one another,” the dewdrop cried,

Seeing another drop close to its side;

“The warm south wind would dry me away,

And I should be gone ere noon to-day;

But I’ll help you, and you help me,

And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”

“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me out to the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we will stand.”

“Help one another,” a grain of sand

Said to another grain close at hand;

“The wind may carry me out to the sea,

And then, oh, what will become of me?

But come, my brother, give me your hand,

We’ll build a mountain and then we will stand.”

And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dewdrops fed a fountain.

And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;

The grains of sand to a mountain;

The leaves became a summer shade;

The dewdrops fed a fountain.

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