See proud Belinda smartly dressedIn all her flaunting Sunday best;With muslin hat and ruffles bigShe cannot comfortably dig. Ask her if she would like to play,–She will not answer either way;She’ll only shake herself, and then,Just pout and grin and pout again. Dear Grandams, meekly learn from this,How very ill-advised it isTo don a costume […]

A morning full of happiness any boy may findBy sailing boats upon the lake, if he is so inclined;The wind it drives them out to sea, he pulls them back, and thenThey jerk and struggle to be free–away they go again!They wibble-wobble as they sail, and sometimes they upset,–Of course he reaches out for them,–of […]

A blustering windy day’s just rightFor boys who want to fly a kite;And it affords the greatest joyTo make and use the pretty toy. But Aged Duffers, do not tryA large-sized paper kite to fly;You could not manage tail or string,And ten to one you’d spoil the thing.

DIVERSIONS OF THE RE-ECHO CLUB A recent discovery has brought to light the long-hidden papers of the Re-Echo Club. This is a great find, and all lovers of masterpieces of the world’s best literature will rejoice with us that we are enabled to publish herewith a few of these gems of great minds. Little is […]

Dear lady-readers of whatever age,Look backward and with me enjoy this page.What happy moments have we often spentThus to our frenzied anger giving vent.Ah, me, the long-lost joys of being young!To make up faces, and stick out one’s tongue;How those occasions of Xantippish strifeGave zip and zest to our dull childish life.

Ah, sweet Lucinda, best of girls,How quick to take advice.Behold her with unpapered curls,And frock so rich and nice! Her haughty stare! Who would supposeThat dress would change her soOh, blessed influence of fine clothes,How much to thee we owe!

Lucinda’s tastes are so depraved;She likes to play and rompWith children poor and ill-behaved,Who boast no style or pomp. Their costumes are not quite correct,They have no pretty tricks;Lucinda! pray be more select,In higher circles mix.

‘Tis taught by philosophic schoolsThe human race is mostly fools.And once a year you see this truthAbly set forth by jocund youth,Who broach the tenets of the creedPlainly that he who runs may read. But Aged Idiots, ’tis not meetFor you to run along the street,And with a manner bold and slyPin tags on ladies […]

In Central Park, along the Mall,We see the gay goat-carriage crawl;With little boys and girls inside,Enjoying their exciting ride. Right willingly each nimble steedExerts his very utmost speed;And o’er the smooth hard road they raceAt something like a turtle’s pace. But stout old men and portly dames,Pray, do not urge your rightful claims;And even though […]

A blithesome boy this picture shows;He has a true Mercurian pose,Like winged heels his roller-skatesSend him fast-flying past his mates.When one is young, ’tis very niceTo skate on rollers or on ice. But Ancient Gaffers, do not tryWith active boys like this to vie.For if you get a skate on, youAcquire a rolling gait, ’tis […]

In winter time when ice and sleetMake slidy places on the street,The children early leave their bedsAnd rush out with their skates and sleds. All merrily the little dearsThrow snowballs in each other’s ears;And thus with pretty playful waysBeguile the white and wintry days. Oh, Venerable Veterans,I hate to disarrange your plans;But truly, if you […]

The Bison, though he seems so grim,Is very sensitive;And when the children stare at him,He wants to cease to live. He hears them wonder why he’s there,And why he can’t break through;And why he has such funny hair,And why he doesn’t moo. At this, the suffering BuffaloCan scarce restrain to weep;Their caustic comments hurt him […]

Baby and Sis and meStand by the fence and seePicnickers munchLots o’ good lunch,Jes’ givin’ nothin’ to we. Baby and Sis and me,Hungry as we can be,Haven’t no rightTo be ‘spectin’ a bite,–But we’re glad lookin’ is free.

This picture (as you can see, I hope)Shows a fat little maiden skipping rope.She can jump “highwater” and “pepper” too,But, fat old ladies, let me tell you,If you jump “highwater” you’ll lose your breath,And to jump “pepper” might cause your death.

With new, ill-fitting gloves,With frocks as white as snow,By two and two these little lovesTo First Communion go. I watch them as they pass,–Somehow, I shrewdly guessEach child thinks little of her massAnd much about her dress. But you, dear Aged Saint,Whose eyeballs upward roll,I trust you have no worldly taintUpon your gentle soul.

These merry children, I’ll be boundIn careless pleasure ride around;Unthinking as they onward go,What pedigree their horses show. But, Graybeard, you learned when a boyAbout the Wooden Horse of Troy;And you assume these steeds to beThe Trojan Sire’s posterity. Well, there you’re wrong! you have forgot.They’re Flying Horses, are they not?And, scions of a noble […]

Into the boat the breeze blows fair,It blows across the deck;It blows the little children’s hair,–They get it in the neck. And in this picture you may seeThe happy girls and boys,So true to life,–but thankful beYou cannot hear the noise. The great steam-whistle’s fearful squeaks.The band, ill-tuned and loud;The babies with their screams and […]

The Little Mothers of the poorThey lead a jolly life, I’m sure;For without being gray and old,They’ve all a mother’s right to scold.As eagerly each day they meetTo pass the gossip of the street,Her baby-cart, each states with pride,Is finest on the whole East side.And each, her small charge will declareThe handsomest baby anywhere.Oh, Grown-up […]

Now wasn’t this ridiculous?Essie and Mamie had a fuss,And each declared she wouldn’t playUnless she could be Queen of May. “You think you’re smart!” Miss Essie said,And Mamie sneered and tossed her head.And each one angrily declaredThere’d be no queen for all she cared! Mamie was mad as she could be,And Essie pouted sulkily;With angry […]

There never was a place so badBut one redeeming trait it had. Now Harlem is no good at allSave as a place for playing ball. But there the boys will run and playTheir favorite game ‘most every day. But, Reverend sir, ‘twould foolish beTo play, with your rheumatic knee. And, Deacon, do not try, I […]