But I keep it, for the days I want to make myself afraid.

If I were that Boy who limps,—now it's dark and snowing,

And if I were going home,—Oh, where would I be going?

[Pg 28]

The Masterpiece

y Mother cut it out for me,

And started it, so I could see;

And then she turned some edges in,

And let me take it to begin.

I made it. But I did not know

How very long it takes to sew.

I took a long time for that stitch;

And now it's there, I don't know which

Is better. But not one is small,

And they are not alike at all.

That side was very hard to fix.

And then, the needle always pricks:

But you must hold it, and take care,—

Because the point is always there;

And knots keep coming by and by;

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