Part 43 (1/2)
”c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!” answered the rooster. ”Bow-wow!” answered the dog.
And the little boy and the little girl put up the bars and ran back home as fast as they could go.
_Jessie Wright Whitcomb._
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”THE LITTLE BOY AND THE LITTLE GIRL PUT UP THE BARS.”]
GAY AND SPY
(_A Rhyming Story for Little Folk_)
One beautiful day in the month of May, A little girl whose name was Gay (They called her that, because, you see, She was always cheerful as she could be) Went for a walk in the woods near by, And her dog went with her (his name was Spy).
As they strolled along a fine woodland path She saw a little bird taking a bath.
She kept very still and watched him splash, When all at once, with a sudden dash, Into the brook jumped little dog Spy.
My, how he made the water fly!
”What a bad, bad dog you are!” said Gay.
”Birdie won't bathe any more to-day.
You frightened him so, but, never mind, He's only frightened, not hurt, he'll find.
We'll walk on further and you must try To be good and quiet.”
”_Bow-wow!_” said Spy.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”INTO THE BROOK JUMPED LITTLE DOG SPY.”]
They had only walked on a little way, When something rustled: ”What's that?” said Gay.
Out from the leaves sprang a squirrel red And sped like a flash down the path ahead.
Close behind him was little dog Spy.
He paid no heed to the little girl's cry.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'YOU'RE YOUNG,' SAID GAY, 'AND IS THAT WHY YOU ACT SO SILLY?'”]
She whistled and called; they were out of sight.
She waited a moment, then laughed outright.
For who was this coming? Why, little dog Spy!
But he didn't look happy--with head held high-- Indeed, he looked rather ashamed instead For he hadn't caught the squirrel red.
Spy couldn't climb trees, and so, you see, Master Squirrel escaped quite easily.
”You're young,” said Gay, ”and is that why You act so silly?”
”_Bow-wow!_” said Spy.
”I'm tired of walking,” the little girl said, ”I think I will pick some flowers instead.
I will take them home to my Grandma, dear; She loves them but she can't walk out here.”
There were plenty of flowers all around.
Sweet white violets covered the ground.
There were lovely long-stemmed blue ones, too, And all around the May-flowers grew.
But when she had all her hands would hold, It was time to leave, it was growing cold.