(A Rhyming Story for Little Folk)

One beautiful day in the month of May,
A little girl whose name was Gay
(They called her that, because, you see,
She was always cheerful as she could be)
Went for a walk in the woods near by,
And her dog went with her (his name was Spy).

As they strolled along a fine woodland path
She saw a little bird taking a bath.
She kept very still and watched him splash,
When all at once, with a sudden dash,
Into the brook jumped little dog Spy.
My, how he made the water fly!
“What a bad, bad dog you are!” said Gay.
“Birdie won’t bathe any more to-day.
You frightened him so, but, never mind,
He’s only frightened, not hurt, he’ll find.
We’ll walk on further and you must try
To be good and quiet.”
“Bow-wow!” said Spy.

They had only walked on a little way,
When something rustled: “What’s that?” said Gay.
Out from the leaves sprang a squirrel red
And sped like a flash down the path ahead.
Close behind him was little dog Spy.
He paid no heed to the little girl’s cry.

She whistled and called; they were out of sight.
She waited a moment, then laughed outright.
For who was this coming? Why, little dog Spy!
But he didn’t look happy—with head held high—
Indeed, he looked rather ashamed instead
For he hadn’t caught the squirrel red.
Spy couldn’t climb trees, and so, you see,
Master Squirrel escaped quite easily.
“You’re young,” said Gay, “and is that why
You act so silly?”
“Bow-wow!” said Spy.

“I’m tired of walking,” the little girl said,
“I think I will pick some flowers instead.
I will take them home to my Grandma, dear;
She loves them but she can’t walk out here.”
There were plenty of flowers all around.
Sweet white violets covered the ground.
There were lovely long-stemmed blue ones, too,
And all around the May-flowers grew.
But when she had all her hands would hold,
It was time to leave, it was growing cold.
The sun was sinking. But where was Spy?
She whistled and called,—but no reply!
“Where can he be?” she said, when hark!
Off in the distance she heard him bark.
“He must have a rabbit,” said she, “that’s all.”
And sure enough, by an old stone-wall,
Spy was barking away as hard as he could—
As if scaring the rabbit would do any good.
“The rabbit is safe in that wall,” said Gay,
“He wouldn’t come out if you barked all day.
So you better come home for it’s growing late.
And Mother will wonder why I wait.
Supper’ll be ready, too. Oh, my!
Are you hungry as I am?”
“Bow-wow!” said Spy.