WIDE-AWAKE.
Da,da, da! Don’t sing “By-lo” anymore, nor rock harder, nor tuck in the blankets, nor cover my eyes up, nor pat, nor sh— me: it really makes me laugh; for I’m awake,—wide-awake! Shut up peepers? put my little heddy down?—not a bit. Go to s’eepy?—no, I’m going to waky: I am awaky; I see you; I see red curtains, see pictures, see great doggy.
Haven’t had my nap out? When would it be out? I should like to know that; yes, I should like to know when a baby’s nap would be out. Haven’t you swept, and watered your plants, and made the bed, and seen to dinner, and taken out your crimps, and more? Pudding?—yes, now you want to make the pudding, and then the salad, and then the Washington pie, and then run out a minute. I know: don’t tell me. A baby’s nap is never out, never, never, so long as any thing is to be done.
But I am awake, and I’m coming out of this right off. Drink not ready?—why not? I ask why not, when you knew ’twould be called for? But no: that must be left. And when you see my eyes wide open, and me pulling myself up with my two hands,—you notoffering to help,—then you call out, “Get baby’s drink ready!” Who knows but the fire is out, or the bottle-stopper lost!
But ’tis plain enough you thought I’d sleep all day. Yes, you’d like that. You wouldn’t? Oh, I know; I know! Don’t you always say, “Too bad baby’s waked up”? Why don’t you get some other kind?—get a rag baby, or gutta-percha, or a wooden one, with its eyes screwed down, or that doesn’t have any! Swap me off; I’m willing; I’d rather than to be in the way: or else I’ll lay my little heddy down and go to s’eepy, and never, never, open eyes again. You’d be sorry?—then why don’t you take me?
There, that’s it,—da, da, da! “Now laugh, look glad!” I like that. Kiss me; hug hard; call me “lovey-dovey;” call me “precious;” call me “honey sweet;” trot me; cuddle me; tell “Little Boy Blue;” sing a pretty song.
Will I walk a little? Oh, yes! and glad to. I’ve crept long enough. Stand me up against the wall: now smooth down the carpet; now take things out of the way; now hold up something pretty, and I’ll walk to it. Your thimble?—no, you’ll cheat: you won’t let me have it. Not the rattle: I’m too big for that, I hope! String of spools?—no, I’ve done with spools. Fruit-knife?—well, yes, I’ll come for the fruit-knife. Now, one, two, three, four steps up to mother. Da, da! kiss, kiss, kiss! sweet as sugary candy!
Now will I sit on the floor and have the pretty things?—Yes: but bring them all,—blocks, soldiers, ninepins, Noah’s ark, Dinah, and Jumping-Jack, and hammer and clothes-brush and pans and porringers,—every thing; I want every thing.
Oh, I’m left alone! Why didn’t she shake a day-day, so I could cry? I don’t want these anymore: I’d rather get up: I’ll creep to something, and get up,—creep, creep, creep. I’ll get up by this. What is this funny thing, so soft and so warm? Now I’ll pull up; now I’m almost up. Oh! it moves; it growls; ’tis slipping out; ’tis going off! down I come again! Oh! wo, wo, wa, wa, wo, wa! Why doesn’t somebody hear me cry?
Now I’ll pull up; now I’m almost up
Away I go—creep, creep, creep—to the rocking-chair. Now pull up by this,—up, up, up; most up; way up,—da, da, da! But it shakes!—oh, oh!down I come again!—oh, wo, wa, wo, wa, wo, wa! Why doesn’t somebody come?
Creep, creep, creep. What is this so tall, and so black, and so shining? Oh! this will do: let me catch hold. Now pull: but it bends; it won’t hold up. Oh! ’tis nothing but a rubber-boot. Away I roll over! Oh! wa, wa, wa, wo, wa! Why doesn’t somebody come? Oh! where have I rolled? where is this? how dark it is! I’ve rolled under the table. Let me get out,—creep, creep, creep. Ha! there’s something!—the table-cloth: I’ll pull up by this.
But I don’t go up. It’s coming down. Oh, my head! What’s dropping down?—-work-basket, dominos, glass tumbler, scissors, pin-cushion, knitting-work, hooks and eyes, buttons. Oh, here’s the fun! Now I’ll get pins; now I’ll pull the needles out; now I’ll put things in my mouth!—da, da, da!