THE PAPER HOUSE.
By Harriet McLear.
If you were in our nursery, you 'd see the greatest fun,
Because it is the place where all the nicest things are done.
But best of all the times we have upon our nurs'ry floor
Is when we make a paper house and pin it to the door.
When mother was a little girl, she made them then - just think!
And she knows how to cut them out - why, quicker than a wink ;
You ought to see the scissors fly and snip and turn and quirl -
But they made the papers larger when she was a little girl.
She folds the paper up, and cuts the attic first of all,
And then the scissors fly along and make the chimneys tall.
Four slits for door and window up above - they must be cut
In half again between the slits ; they open then and shut.
The front steps - they are easy - you can see how they 're cut out;
And then she folds again, and cuts the windows all about.
And when she spreads the paper out, and opens windows wide,
And pins it up - what fun it is when we can look inside!
And then we cry: "The Family!" and mother laughs and takes
The scissors up again, and oh, what lively folk she makes!
The children have the bestest times, and first they always go
And hang far out on window-sills, and nobody says no.
Their feet will come below the floor sometimes - that has to be;
But mother says no matter, just pretend that you don't see.
The father is a nice tall man - right by the steps he stands;
He 's watching his eight "middling" boys all standing joining hands.
By Harriet McLear.
If you were in our nursery, you 'd see the greatest fun,
Because it is the place where all the nicest things are done.
But best of all the times we have upon our nurs'ry floor
Is when we make a paper house and pin it to the door.
When mother was a little girl, she made them then - just think!
And she knows how to cut them out - why, quicker than a wink ;
You ought to see the scissors fly and snip and turn and quirl -
But they made the papers larger when she was a little girl.
She folds the paper up, and cuts the attic first of all,
And then the scissors fly along and make the chimneys tall.
Four slits for door and window up above - they must be cut
In half again between the slits ; they open then and shut.
The front steps - they are easy - you can see how they 're cut out;
And then she folds again, and cuts the windows all about.
And when she spreads the paper out, and opens windows wide,
And pins it up - what fun it is when we can look inside!
And then we cry: "The Family!" and mother laughs and takes
The scissors up again, and oh, what lively folk she makes!
The children have the bestest times, and first they always go
And hang far out on window-sills, and nobody says no.
Their feet will come below the floor sometimes - that has to be;
But mother says no matter, just pretend that you don't see.
The father is a nice tall man - right by the steps he stands;
He 's watching his eight "middling" boys all standing joining hands.
The mother 's looking from the door, as pleased as she can be;
Her little girls are playing "ring-a-rosy" - you can see.
She thinks they 're having so much fun, she '11 never make them stop -
(She doesn't know her littlest boy is on the chimney-top!)
And at the attic window her two other little boys
Are hanging out and having fun, without a bit of noise.
They know how to hold on quite tight, so we don't think they '11 fall.
And really they are having just the nicest time of all.
Her houses, mother says, all used to be three stories high;
They make the papers smaller now - she can't imagine why,
For they really have more in them - but we think they just don't know
How many little boys and girls would like to have them grow.
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| Mother's paper house. |
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