A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England

Your letter came safely, dear Anna,
And much I'm indebted to thee
For the graceful and delicate manner
In which it comments upon me.
But your pardon, sweet coz, if I ask you
Who wrote an epistle so fine?
I'm sorry so closely to task you,
But really some parts are divine.
Dont imagine I doubt your own power
To perpetrate verses sublime;
I dare say you rhyme by the hour,
With many a musical chime.

286

But steep is the path up Parnassus,
And long for steps tiny as ours;
And feet more experienced pass us,
While we at its foot gather flowers.
I am sure we should stumble alone,
And I should like to know who helped thee;
I am perfectly willing to own
That my own dear mamma aided me.

But as to your wish, love, of holding
So bouncing a baby as I,
My form in those fond arms enfolding,—
Some morning I'll just let you try.
They say you are slight as a fairy,—
I'm strong, and a bit of a shrew;
Now you dear little thing, light and airy,
Pray dont you think I could hold you?
But if you're inclined for a frolic,
My own little cousin, with me,
Some morning when I'm melancholic,
I'll take a trip over the sea;—
I'll wear my best frock and blue band,
I'll curl up my hair over night,
I'll clasp my sweet bells in my hand,
To tinkle me tunes in my flight;

287

I'll climb to thy knee for my throne, love,
I'll nestle my head on thy breast,
I'll lay my light hand in thine own, love,
I'll pinch thee—but only in jest;
I'll wreathe round my rosy-tipped fingers
Thy ringlets of silk with delight;
But my hand's apt to pull where it lingers—
Would you weep if I pulled them too tight?
Upon thy soft shoulder reposing,
I'll give thee sweet kisses and light;
But my lips have a sad trick of closing—
Shall you scold if I happen to bite?

I dont know what mother will say,
When she looks, and in vain, all about,
To find her young “star” flown away,—
She will fancy that I am “put out!”

Oh! I did as you told me last night,
I stole to the edge of the bed,
And I peeped through a pin-hole so slight,
'Twas “a bird's-eye view,” you'd have said;
“I'm sure I can't think where they are,
These glittering creatures,” thought I,

288

“In the sky I must look for the star,
But where must I look for the sky?
There's something that's shining like fire
On mother's work-table, close by,
But it cannot be what I desire,
For it is not so pretty as I.”
At last, I looked up into Heaven,
(I know where that is from mamma,)
And I saw a blue curtain unriven,
But not the least sign of a star.
Yet I think, dearest, that was the curtain
You bade me so slyly peep through,
For of this I am perfectly certain,
That as I was watching its hue,
I suddenly saw a bright face
Peeping out of a little loophole;
And the very next moment, no trace
Was left of it, love, on my soul!
But again it appeared, with a smile
So beaming with heavenly glee,
So loving and lovely the while,
I am sure it was looking at me!
I imagine it must have been one
Of those bright little cherubs, you know,

289

Who with Heaven's messages run,
On their winged feet of light, to and fro;
I dont think it could be a star,—
However, I mean to ask mother;
How funny for two little stars
To be playing “bopeep” with each other!

Mamma bids me say, though I warn her
That I shall take up the whole space,
She has still in her heart a warm corner
For dear cousin Anna's bright face.
But I shan't let you have it, my darling!
Lest, looking your lodgings about,
You should see me, and cry, like Sterne's starling,
What's that? “let me out! let me out!”
I assure you, I'm fierce as a hero,
I fight with my hands and my feet;
I'm quite as relentless as Nero,
(You've read of that gentleman, sweet?)
But if you will change places with me,
And let me have your mother's heart,
Perhaps mine would let me go free,—
Ah, no! it would kill us to part!

290

Hark! I hear her quick step on the stair,
She would scold should my pen meet her view;
I must put on an innocent air;—
My sweet correspondent, adieu!
Give my love to each uncle, aunt, cousin,
That cares for me, dearest, I pray;
I hear I have them by the dozen,
“Cui bono”—so far, far away?
And give to my darling grandma, love,
And grandpa, whom mother loves so;—
Fond kisses, just such as “a star,” love,
Would be apt on a friend to bestow.
Alas! these farewells make me sigh,
They are things to be sad and to sob about,
But it must be,—my cousin, good bye!
Your own little

Pitchapan Bobabout.

P. S. You've a brother, named Willie,
Has he heard of his cousin afar?
Dont think me coquettish and silly,—
Once more, your affectionate

University of Virginia Library

LITTLE ELLEN'S REPLY TO HER COUSIN.