Oh, here they come and there they come, and now we'll have a laugh."

[Illustration]

On every "morrow morning,"
This funny little Bertie
Doesn't want to have his face washed
Because it don't feel dirty;
He runs half-dressed 'way out-of-doors,
Safe hidden from our view;
We search and call, hunt up and down,
And don't know what to do,
Until we see our little Lu
The wand of willow bringing,
And leading Bertie back to us,
While all the time he's singing:

"Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si.
You look like a very small heathen Chinee.
Get the sleep all washed off and hang it up to dry,
And then you'll look as fresh as if you'd just come from the sky."

When all the stars are shining,
Each little sleepy-head
Is lying in a funny bunch
Within the little bed.
Their eyes are so wide open,
They stay awake so long,
They're calling me to tell to them
A story or a song.