And a cunning little mouth;
My dear little Rose.

I have a little sofa
Where my doll may repose,
Or sit up like a lady;
My knowing little Rose.

My doll can move her arms,
And stand upon her toes;
Or make a pretty curtesy,
My funny little Rose.

"How old is your dolly?"
Very young I suppose,
For she cannot go alone,
My precious little Rose.

Indeed I cannot tell,
In poetry or prose,
How beautiful she is,
My darling little Rose.




BUTTERFLIES ARE PRETTY THINGS.


"Butterflies are pretty things,