Saturday, February 1, 2014

Three Little Poems About Dolls

A Christmas Wish

I WISH that good old Santa
Would travel like a show
And to his tent of playthings
For nothing let me go,
And take along my stockings
To fill in laughing glee
With all the things he fondly
Hangs on the Christmas tree.

I’d see the pasteboard camel
Wink at the kangaroo;
I’d see the china wombat
And quagga chase the gnu;
I’d see the rubber ostrich
Serenely wink his eye
To see the monkey capture
The peanut on the fly.

And then I’d see old Santa
With all his books of rimes
I’d grab him by the whiskers
And kiss him fifty times
And on his back go riding
Beneath the fairy dome
And with a lot of playthings
Go running gaily home.

 ‘Tis then I think old Santa
Should up and go away
And in some other village
Put up his tent next day
And then go on still farther
And farther still and still
To let all lovely children
Their great big stockings fill.

 ‘Twould then be always Christmas,
All musical with joy
And bending tree and turkey
And hobbyhorse and toy,
For while upon his travels
Old Santa’d scatter cheer;
He’d make a Christmas somewhere
Each day throughout the year.

–R. K. Munkittrick in Woman’s Home Companion.

"I had a little doll" by Mother Goose, 1833

I had a little Doll,
The prettiest ever seen,
She washed me the dishes,
And kept the house clean.
She went to the mill
To fetch me some flour,
And always got it home
In less than an hour;
She baked me my bread,
She brewed me my ale,
She sat by the fire
And told many a fine tale.

Dolly's Doctor

Mary
Come and see my baby dear;
Doctor, she is ill, I fear.
Yesterday, do what I would,
She would touch no kind of food;
And she tosses, moans, and cries.
Doctor, what do you advise?
Doctor John
Hum! ha! good madam, tell me, pray,
What have you offered her to-day?
Ah, yes! I see! a piece of cake—
The worst thing you could make her take.
Just let me taste. Yes, yes; I fear
Too many plums and currants here.
But, stop; I must just taste again,
For that will make the matter plain.
Mary
But, Doctor, pray excuse me, now—
You’ve eaten all the cake, I vow!
I thank you kindly for your care;
But surely that was hardly fair.
Doctor John
Ah, dear me! did I eat the cake?
Well, it was for dear baby’s sake.
But keep him in his bed, well warm,
And, you will see, he’ll take no harm.
At night and morning use once more
His draught and powder, as before;
And he must not be over-fed,
But he may have a piece of bread.
To-morrow, then, I dare to say,
He’ll be quite right. Good day! good day!

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