POEMS BY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN

Little girl, O little girl, Where did you sail to-day? The greeny grass is all about; I cannot see the bay. "The greeny grass is water, sir; I'm sailing on the sea, I'm tacking to the Island there Beneath the apple tree. "You ought to come aboard my boat, Or you will soon be drowned! You're standing in the ocean, sir, That billows all around!" Little girl, O little girl, And must I pay a fare? "A penny to the apple tree, A penny back from there. "A penny for a passenger, But sailors voyage free; O, will you be a sailor, sir, And hold the sheet for me?"

I am a little music box, Wound up and made to go, And play my little living tune The best way that I know. If I am naughty, cross, or rude, The music will go wrong, My little works be tangled up And spoil the pretty song. I must be very sweet and good And happy all the day, And then the little music box In tune will always play.