| Photo: Bonnie Newman 2011 |
Inside these books, I found these inscriptions:
| Photo: Bonnie Newman 2011 |
The inscription on the left reads: Lillian from Aunt Carrie, Xmas 1895. We were amazed to see how old these were! The book is in fairly good shape; we did need to be careful as we looked through them.
The pictures in these books are beautiful, and hark back to a different time:
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| Source: Daisy Chain. (N.D.) Boston: De Wolfe Fiske. |
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| Source: Wee Lassies (N.D) Boston: De Wolf Fisk & Co. |
And the mother, tucking her children in bed.
Both of the above pictures are water color as are many of the pictures in these books. Many more illustrations were created in pencil, both small and large, along side many of the poems. When I saw this, I thought it might be made by woodcut:
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Source: Daisy Chain. (N.D.). Boston: De Wolf Fiske. |
Out into the Country.
On his knees they clamber,
"Father, don't you know?
Take us to the Country
Where the daisies grow!"
Bustle! bustle! bustle!
Pack the children's things;
Cabs and trains won't wait for
Children or for kings.
Rattle! rattle! rattle!
Off! away they go,
To the pleasant Country,
Where the daisies grow.
Daisy Chain. (N.D.). Boston: De Wolf Fiske.
A trip to the country must have been a treat for a child that lived in the city. We still hustle and bustle around, getting ready for a trip anywhere, even now.
And this one:
Butterfly Days.
The morning has come, and the morning has past,
The terrible lessons are over at last;
And out in the meadows the little ones run,
After the butterflies under the sun.
The streamlets go dimpling along through the grass,
The motes in the sunshine so merrily pass,
While birds round and o'er them are singing of love,
With the green grass beneath,
and the blue sky above.
Bright fairies are darting and dancing in glee,
That only the eyes of the children can see;
And the songs that the fairies are piping so clear,
It is only the hearts of the children can hear!
Daisy Chain. (N.D.). Boston: De Wolf Fiske
The world of a child...they see much that we adults don't see.
And finally,
Butterflies.
Skimming blossoms, honey-laden
Fluttering earthward, floating high;
In your soft hands, little maiden,
You may catch us if you try.
So I would, you pretty things,
But that I might hurt your wings.
Wee Lassies (N.D) Boston: De Wolf Fisk & Co.
I love the imagery in this last one. Fluttering butterflies, always out of reach. I can see children chasing after them, careful not to hurt their fragile wings.
I really loved looking through these books, if just to read through something my grandparents might have read to their young children. The quaint, simple language of these books reminds me of a simpler time, and make me want to be a child again. I am glad for the abundance of children's books available to us today, but sometimes, it's good to look back and see from where we came.
Cabs and trains won't wait for
Children or for kings.
Rattle! rattle! rattle!
Off! away they go,
To the pleasant Country,
Where the daisies grow.
Daisy Chain. (N.D.). Boston: De Wolf Fiske.
A trip to the country must have been a treat for a child that lived in the city. We still hustle and bustle around, getting ready for a trip anywhere, even now.
And this one:
Butterfly Days.
The morning has come, and the morning has past,
The terrible lessons are over at last;
And out in the meadows the little ones run,
After the butterflies under the sun.
The streamlets go dimpling along through the grass,
The motes in the sunshine so merrily pass,
While birds round and o'er them are singing of love,
With the green grass beneath,
and the blue sky above.
Bright fairies are darting and dancing in glee,
That only the eyes of the children can see;
And the songs that the fairies are piping so clear,
It is only the hearts of the children can hear!
Daisy Chain. (N.D.). Boston: De Wolf Fiske
The world of a child...they see much that we adults don't see.
And finally,
Butterflies.
Skimming blossoms, honey-laden
Fluttering earthward, floating high;
In your soft hands, little maiden,
You may catch us if you try.
So I would, you pretty things,
But that I might hurt your wings.
Wee Lassies (N.D) Boston: De Wolf Fisk & Co.
I love the imagery in this last one. Fluttering butterflies, always out of reach. I can see children chasing after them, careful not to hurt their fragile wings.
I really loved looking through these books, if just to read through something my grandparents might have read to their young children. The quaint, simple language of these books reminds me of a simpler time, and make me want to be a child again. I am glad for the abundance of children's books available to us today, but sometimes, it's good to look back and see from where we came.




