When the clean white cloth is laid,
And the cups are on the table,
When the tea and toast are made,
That's a happy time for Mabel.
Stealing to her mother's side,
In her ear she whispers low,
"When papa comes I'll hide;
Don't tell him where I go,"
On her knees upon the floor,
In below the sofa creeping;
When she hears him at the door,
She pretends that she is sleeping.
"Where is Mabel?" father cries,
Looking round and round about.
Then he murmurs in surprise,
"Surely Mabel can't be out."
First he looks behind his chair,
Then he peers beneath the table,
Seeking, searching everywhere
All in vain for little Mabel;
But at last he thinks he knows,
And he laughs and shakes his head,
Says to mother, "I suppose
Mabel has been put to bed."
But when he sits down to tea,
From beneath the sofa creeping,
Mabel climbs upon his knee,
Clasps her hands: "I was not sleeping."
When he asks, "Where is my girl's
Very secret hiding-place?"
Mabel only shakes her curls,
Laughing, smiling, in his face.
[Illustration: Johnny Giving his Sister a Ride.]
[Page 84--Play Land]
[Illustration: Our Playhouse Coach.]