In Mischief
“What shall we do?” said Roland to Nell,
“For mama has gone away,
In mama’s room it’s quiet and still,
Let us go in there and play.”
So they softly opened mama’s door,
And quietly slipped inside.
“Now let us play we are mice,” said Nell,
“And get in the drawer and hide.”
At the bureau drawer they tugged and tugged
Until it was opened wide;
And then, oh dear, the dresses and things,
They scattered them all outside.
When mama came home, what did she see?
Ev’ry thing lying about,
The children that should be out were in,
What ought to be in was out.
“Mama, don’t scold,” said the children, “see
Haven’t we hided us nice?
We don’t know any better you know,
We are only little mice.”
Out of the window, from mama to auntie,
Just like a birdie she goes;
Up in the blue sky the cloud birds are flying,
Round her the fresh summer glows.
Woodbine and myrtle, and ruddiest roses;
Oh, the new summer is sweet.
Come, little birdie, the world is before you,
And summer lies fair at your feet.
Come, little baby girl, mama’s arms hold you,
Auntie will not let you fall;
Birdies are singing, come, let us go find them,
Flowers and sunshine, and all.
Down you go, down you go, out of the window,
Baby-bird learning to fly.
We will go, dainty one, out with the blossoms,
Come back again by and by.