42 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
PLANTED. 
I HELD my baby on my knee, 
My blue-eyed Bessie, three years old; 
She laid her dimpled cheek on mine, 
And in my ear her trouble told. 
“ Papa, pease may me go to school, 
Like sister Nell and Tatie Snow? ” 
Then as I smiled she begged again, 
With kisses sweet, “ Pease may me go ? 
“ When Bessie grows as large as Nell, 
Then she may go to school,” I said. 
* But mother’s words and father’s rules 
Are quite enough for this small head.” 
She said no more, but sat awhile 
“Thinking her think,” then ran away; 
And as I turned to work again, 
I heard her in the yard at play. 
Then mother called, “ Come, Bessie, come ; 
’Tis time to go to sleep, you know.”— 
“ O dear mamma, pease let me stay ! 
I’se panted, ’tause I want to grow.” 
’Twas true ! for there our baby stood, 
With feet fast planted in the ground. 
While water-pot and garden tool, 
Ready for use, lay scattered round. 
On mother’s second call she came, 
With rumpled dress and muddy shoe. 
And looking up quite grieved, she said, 
“Why tan’t me grow, as flowers do?” 
When April winds 
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush 
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up. 
Opened, in airs of June, her multitude 
Of golden chalices to humming birds 
And silken wing’d insects of the sky. 
Bryant, The Fountain 
