And mothers' ways are often queer: They pause in doorways, just to hear A tiny breathing; think a prayer; And then go tiptoe down the stair.

IN HONOR OF TAFFY TOPAZ

Taffy, the topaz-colored cat, Thinks now of this and now of that, But chiefly of his meals.

Asparagus, and cream, and fish, Are objects of his Freudian wish; What you don't give, he steals.

His gallant heart is strongly stirred By clink of plate or flight of bird, He has a plumy tail; At night he treads on stealthy pad As merry as Sir Galahad A-seeking of the Grail.

His amiable amber eyes Are very friendly, very wise; Like Buddha, grave and fat, He sits, regardless of applause, And thinking, as he kneads his paws, What fun to be a cat!

THE CEDAR CHEST

Her mind is like her cedar chest Wherein in quietness do rest The wistful dreamings of her heart In fragrant folds all laid apart.

There, put away in sprigs of rhyme Until her life's full blossom-time, Flutter (like tremulous little birds) Her small and sweet maternal words.

READING ALOUD

Once we read Tennyson aloud In our great fireside chair; Between the lines, my lips could touch Her April-scented hair.

How very fond I was, to think The printed poems fair, When close within my arms I held A living lyric there!

ANIMAL CRACKERS

Animal crackers, and cocoa to drink, That is the finest of suppers, I think; When I'm grown up and can have what I please I think I shall always insist upon these.

What do _you_ choose when you're offered a treat?

When Mother says, "What would you like best to eat?"

Is it waffles and syrup, or cinnamon toast?

It's cocoa and animals that _I_ love most!

The kitchen's the cosiest place that I know: The kettle is singing, the stove is aglow, And there in the twilight, how jolly to see The cocoa and animals waiting for me.

Daddy and Mother dine later in state, With Mary to cook for them, Susan to wait; But they don't have nearly as much fun as I Who eat in the kitchen with Nurse standing by; And Daddy once said, he would like to be me Having cocoa and animals once more for tea!

[Ill.u.s.tration:

_And Daddy once said he would like to be me_ _Having cocoa and animals once more for tea!_]

THE MILKMAN

Early in the morning, when the dawn is on the roofs, You hear his wheels come rolling, you hear his horse's hoofs; You hear the bottles clinking, and then he drives away: You yawn in bed, turn over, and begin another day!

The old-time dairy maids are dear to every poet's heart-- I'd rather be the dairy _man_ and drive a little cart, And bustle round the village in the early morning blue, And hang my reins upon a hook, as I've seen Casey do.

LIGHT VERSE

At night the gas lamps light our street, Electric bulbs our homes; The gas is billed in cubic feet, Electric light in ohms.

But one illumination still Is brighter far, and sweeter; It is not figured in a bill, Nor measured by a meter.

More bright than lights that money buys, More pleasing to discerners, The shining lamps of Helen's eyes, Those lovely double burners!

THE FURNACE

At night I opened The furnace door: The warm glow brightened The cellar floor.

The fire that sparkled Blue and red, Kept small toes cosy In their bed.

As up the stair So late I stole, I said my prayer: _Thank G.o.d for coal!_

WASHING THE DISHES

When we on simple rations sup How easy is the washing up!

But heavy feeding complicates The task by soiling many plates.