The Little Brother.
Children should always be kind to each other.
Little brother, darling boy,You are very dear to me!I am pleased and full of joy,When your smiling face I see.How I wish that you could speak,And could know the words I say!Pretty stories I would seek,To amuse you every day;All about the honey-beesFlying past us in the sun,—Birds that sing among the trees,—Lambs that in the meadows run.I’ll be very kind to you,—Never slap or make you cry,As some naughty children do,Quite forgettingGodis nigh.Shake your rattle,—here it is,Listen to its merry noise,And, when you are tired of this,I will bring you other toys.
Little brother, darling boy,You are very dear to me!I am pleased and full of joy,When your smiling face I see.How I wish that you could speak,And could know the words I say!Pretty stories I would seek,To amuse you every day;All about the honey-beesFlying past us in the sun,—Birds that sing among the trees,—Lambs that in the meadows run.I’ll be very kind to you,—Never slap or make you cry,As some naughty children do,Quite forgettingGodis nigh.Shake your rattle,—here it is,Listen to its merry noise,And, when you are tired of this,I will bring you other toys.
Little brother, darling boy,You are very dear to me!I am pleased and full of joy,When your smiling face I see.
Little brother, darling boy,
You are very dear to me!
I am pleased and full of joy,
When your smiling face I see.
How I wish that you could speak,And could know the words I say!Pretty stories I would seek,To amuse you every day;
How I wish that you could speak,
And could know the words I say!
Pretty stories I would seek,
To amuse you every day;
All about the honey-beesFlying past us in the sun,—Birds that sing among the trees,—Lambs that in the meadows run.
All about the honey-bees
Flying past us in the sun,—
Birds that sing among the trees,—
Lambs that in the meadows run.
I’ll be very kind to you,—Never slap or make you cry,As some naughty children do,Quite forgettingGodis nigh.
I’ll be very kind to you,—
Never slap or make you cry,
As some naughty children do,
Quite forgettingGodis nigh.
Shake your rattle,—here it is,Listen to its merry noise,And, when you are tired of this,I will bring you other toys.
Shake your rattle,—here it is,
Listen to its merry noise,
And, when you are tired of this,
I will bring you other toys.
BABCOCK’SNo. 3 TOY BOOKS,NEW SERIES,MORAL, INSTRUCTIVE, ANDENTERTAINING,ALL BEAUTIFULLYEMBELLISHEDWITHSUPERIORENGRAVINGS.EDITED BYTHOMAS TELLER.CHILDREN’S BOOKSOFEVERY DESCRIPTIONCONSTANTLY PUBLISHING.