Shall I tell you where these babies are?
You never can guess, I know.
And shall I tell you just who it is
That is singing soft and low?
Why, the little flowers are the babies, Dear,
Out in the garden, you know.
And the big pine-tree is singing to them,
Singing soft and low.
THE LITTLE SAND-MEN
I wonder, Dear, if you've ever heard
About the queer little men,
Who come slipping in, when the light grows dim,
And it's sleepy-time again?
They're the funniest, cutest little Elfin men,
And they dress in the strangest way,
With queer little peakèd caps on their heads,
And tight little suits of grey!
And each little fellow has--what do you think?
A fat little bag full of sand
Hung over his shoulder, and he grabs it tight
With his funny little elfin hand.
And when you aren't thinking about them at all,
These funny lit