"I scratched my arm and tore my hair, But still did not complain; And had my blackberries been safe, Should not have cared a grain.

"But when I saw them on the ground.

All scattered by my side, I picked my empty basket up, And down I sat and cried.

"Just then a pretty little Miss Chanced to be walking by; She stopped, and looking pitiful, She begged me not to cry.

"'Poor little girl, you fell,' said she, 'And must be sadly hurt;'

'Oh, no,' I cried; 'but see my fruit, All mixed with sand and dirt.'

"'Well, do not grieve for that,' she said; 'Go home, and get some more,'

'Ah, no, for I have stripped the vines, These were the last they bore.

"'My father, Miss, is very poor, And works in yonder stall; He has so many little ones, He cannot clothe us all.

"'I always longed to go to church, But never could I go; For when I asked him for a gown, He always answered, "No.

"'"There's not a father in the world That loves his children more; I'd get you one with all my heart, But, Phebe, I am poor."

"'But when the blackberries were ripe, He said to me one day, "Phebe, if you will take the time That's given you for play,

"'"And gather blackberries enough, And carry them to town, To buy your bonnet and your shoes, I'll try to get a gown."

"'Oh, Miss, I fairly jumped for joy, My spirits were so light; And so, when I had leave to play, I picked with all my might.

"'I sold enough to get my shoes, About a week ago; And these, if they had not been spilt, Would buy a bonnet, too.

"'But now they're gone, they all are gone, And I can get no more, And Sundays I must stay at home, Just as I did before.'

"And, mother, then I cried again As hard as I could cry; And looking up, I saw a tear Was standing in her eye.

"She caught her bonnet from her head, 'Here, here,' she cried, 'take this!'

'Oh, no, indeed--I fear your ma Would be offended, Miss.'

"'My ma! no, never; she delights All sorrow to beguile; And 't is the sweetest joy she feels, To make the wretched smile.

"'She taught me when I had enough, To share it with the poor; And never let a needy child, Go empty from the door.

"'So take it, for you need not fear Offending her, you see; I have another, too, at home, And one's enough for me,'

"So then I took it--here it is-- For pray what could I do?

And, mother, I shall love that Miss As long as I love you."

UNKNOWN

MABEL ON MIDSUMMER DAY

A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME

PART I

"Arise, my maiden, Mabel,"

The mother said; "arise, For the golden sun of midsummer Is shining in the skies.

"Arise, my little maiden, For thou must speed away, To wait upon thy grandmother This livelong summer day.

"And thou must carry with thee This wheaten cake so fine, This new-made pat of b.u.t.ter, This little flask of wine;

"And tell the dear old body, This day I cannot come, For the goodman went out yestermorn.

And he is not come home.

"And more than this, poor Amy Upon my knee doth lie; I fear me, with this fever pain The little child will die!

"And thou canst help thy grandmother: The table thou canst spread; Canst feed the little dog and bird; And thou canst make her bed.

"And thou canst fetch the water From the lady-well hard by; And thou canst gather from the wood The f.a.gots brown and dry;

"Canst go down to the lonesome glen, To milk the mother ewe; This is the work, my Mabel, That thou wilt have to do.

"But listen now, my Mabel, This is midsummer day, When all the fairy people From elfland come away.

"And when thou 'rt in the lonesome glen, Keep by the running burn, And do not pluck the strawberry flower, Nor break the lady-fern.

"But think not of the fairy folk, Lest mischief should befall; Think only of poor Amy, And how thou lov'st us all.

"Yet keep good heart, my Mabel, If thou the fairies see, And give them kindly answer If they should speak to thee.

"And when into the fir-wood Thou goest for f.a.gots brown, Do not, like idle children, Go wandering up and down.

"But fill thy little ap.r.o.n, My child, with earnest speed; And that thou break no living bough Within the wood take heed.

"For they are spiteful brownies Who in the wood abide; So be thou careful of this thing, Lest evil should betide.

"But think not, little Mabel, Whilst thou art in the wood, Of dwarfish, willful brownies, But of the Father good.

"And when thou goest to the spring To fetch the water thence, Do not disturb the little stream, Lest this should give offense.

"For the queen of all the fairies, She loves that water bright; I've seen her drinking there myself On many a summer night.

"But she's a gracious lady, And her thou need'st not fear; Only disturb thou not the stream, Nor spill the water clear."

"Now all this I will heed, mother, Will no word disobey, And wait upon the grandmother This livelong summer day."