Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsThe Stepmother
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
The Stepmother Post by :Brian_B Category :Poems Author :James Whitcomb Riley Date :February 2011 Read :3364

Click below to download : The Stepmother (Format : PDF)

The Stepmother

First she come to our house,
Tommy run and hid;
And Emily and Bob and me
We cried jus' like we did
When Mother died,--and we all said
'At we all wisht 'at we was dead!

And Nurse she couldn't stop us;
And Pa he tried and tried,--
We sobbed and shook and wouldn't look,
But only cried and cried;
And nen some one--we couldn't jus'
Tell who--was cryin' same as us!

Our Stepmother! Yes, it was her,
Her arms around us all--
'Cause Tom slid down the banister
And peeked in from the hall.--
And we all love her, too, because
She's purt' nigh good as Mother was!

(The end)
James Whitcomb Riley's poem: Stepmother

If you like this book please share to your friends :

When Old Jack Died When Old Jack Died

When Old Jack Died
When Old Jack died, we stayed from school (they said, At home, we needn't go that day), and none Of us ate any breakfast--only one, And that was Papa--and his eyes were red When he came round where we were, by the shed Where Jack was lying, half-way in the sun And half-way in the shade. When we begun To cry out loud, Pa turned and dropped his head And went away; and Mamma, she went back Into the kitchen. Then, for a long while, All to ourselves, like,

What 'old Santa' Overheard What "old Santa" Overheard

What 'old Santa' Overheard
_'Tis said old Santa Claus one time_ _Told this joke on himself in rhyme:_ One Christmas, in the early din That ever leads the morning in, I heard the happy children shout In rapture at the toys turned out Of bulging little socks and shoes-- A joy at which I could but choose To listen enviously, because I'm always just "Old Santa Claus,"-- But ere my rising sigh had got To its first quaver at the thought, It broke in laughter, as I heard A little voice chirp