A Young Seamstress




“I AM learning how to sew," said an eager little maid;

"I push the needle in and out, and make the stitches strong;

I'm sewing blocks of patchwork for my dolly's pretty bed,

And mamma says, the way I work it will not take me long.

It 's over and over—do you know

How over-and-over stitches go?


"I've begun a handkerchief; mamma turned in the edge,

And basted it with a pink thread to show me where to sew.

It has Greenaway children on it, stepping staidly by a hedge;

I look at them when I get tired, or the needle pricks, you know.

And that is the way I learn to hem

With hemming stitches—do you know them?


"Next I shall learn to run, and darn, and back-stitch, too,

I guess;

It wouldn't take me long, I know, if 'twasn't for the thread;

But the knots keep coming, and besides—I shall have to confess—

Sometimes I slip my thimble off, and use my thumb instead!

When your thread knots, what do you do?

And does it turn all brownish, too?


"My papa, he’s a great big man, as much as six feet high;

He's more than forty, and his hair has gray mixed with the black:

Well, he can't sew! He can't begin to sew as well as I.

If he loses off a button, mamma has to set it back!

You mustn't think me proud, you know,

But I am seven, and I can sew!"




Mary L. Branch.