can see, I hope)
Shows a fat little maiden skipping rope.
She can jump "highwater" and "pepper" too,
But, fat old ladies, let me tell you,
If you jump "highwater" you'll lose your breath,
And to jump "pepper" might cause your death.

MUSIC'S MIGHT

On the East Side any day,
When the street pianos play
You can see the children dancing with
a rhythmic whirl and sway.

All untaught their native grace,
Joy in every grinning face,
To the music they are gaily keeping
perfect time and pace.

But, infirm and aged crones,
Do not risk your ancient bones;
Your old nerves would suffer sadly
jarred and jolted by the stones.

A BALL GAME

There never was a place so bad
But one redeeming trait it had.

Now Harlem is no good at all
Save as a place for playing ball.

But there the boys will run and play
Their favorite game 'most every day.

But, Reverend sir, 'twould foolish be
To play, with your rheumatic knee.

And, Deacon, do not try, I beg,
To play the game with your game leg.

THE RIVAL QUEENS

Now wasn't this ridiculous?
Essie and Mamie had a fuss,
And each declared she wouldn't play
Unless she could be Queen of May.

"You think you're smart!" Miss Essie said,
And Mamie sneered and tossed her head.
And each one angrily declared
There'd be no queen for all she cared!

Mamie was mad as she could be,
And Essie pouted sulkily;
With angry looks they onward stalked,
While no one 'neath the May-bower walked.

Oh! social Queens, this lesson learn
If for supremacy you yearn,
And of your fitness there is doubt,
See that your rival too's kept out.

LITTLE MOTHERS

The Little Mothers of the poor
They lead a jolly life, I'm sure;
For without being gray and old,
They've all a mother's right to scold.
As eagerly each day they meet
To pass the gossip of the street,
Her baby-cart, each states with pride,
Is finest on the whole East side.
And each, her small charge will declare
The handsomest baby anywhere.
Oh, Grown-up Mothers, learn to praise
Your children and their pretty ways.

OTHER LITTLE MOTHERS

The Little Mothers of the ric