Pictures By [signed] Florence K. Upton
Words By
Bertha Upton
DeWolfe, Fiske & Co. Boston
[Illustration]
’Twas on a frosty Christmas Eve
When Peggy Deutchland woke
From her
wooden sleep
On the counter
steep
And to her neighbour spoke,
“Get up! get up, dear Sarah Jane!
Now strikes the midnight hour,
When dolls
and toys
Taste human
joys,
And revel in their power.
[Illustration]
I long to try my limbs a bit,
And you must walk with me;
Our joints
are good
Though made
of wood,
And I pine for liberty.
[Illustration]
For twelve long months we’ve lain
in here.
But we don’t care a fig;
When wide
awake
It does
not take
Us long to dance a jig.
[Illustration]
But who comes here across our path,
In gay attire bedight?
A little
girl
With hair
in curl,
And eyes so round and bright.
[Illustration]
Good evening Miss, how fine you look,
Beside you I feel bare;
I must confess
I need a
dress
If I would look as fair.
[Illustration]
On that high pole I see a flag
With colors red and blue;
Dear Sarah
Jane
’Tis
very plain
A climb you’ll have to do.
[Illustration]
You’re young and light—so
now be quick
Dear sister good and kind;
You look
dismayed
Don’t
be afraid,
It’s not so hard you’ll find.
Then up the pole with trembling limbs,
Poor Sarah Jane did mount;
She dared
not lag,
But seized
the flag,
Ere you could twenty count.
Big Peggy gazed with deep concern,
And mouth wide open too;
Her only
care
That she
might wear
A gown of brilliant hue.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Now Peg’ by instinct seemed to know
Where scissors might be got;
The “fits”
were bad,
But then
she had
No patterns on the spot.
Soon where the garments hurried on;
Sarah looked well in blue;
Mirror in
hand
She took
her stand,
While Peggy pinned her’s through.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Said Peggy—“After work
so hard,
I think a rest we need;
Let’s
take a ride
Seated astride
Upon this gentle steed.”
Then simple Sarah Jane climbed up
Upon his wooden back;
With tim’rous
heart
She felt
him start
Upon the open track.
[Illustration]
Ere long they knew that hidden there,
Beneath a stolid mien,
Dwelt a
fierce will.
They could
not still
They rode as if by steam!