One morning when father was late,
The sick one was led forth by him;
Such a sensation this did make,—
Their happiness, full to the brim.
To table gaily she was led.
"She'll have the first choice, don't you know,
We're glad she's back again," they said.
"Annette is queen in our tableau,
And she must lead in every game;
She has to have our father's hand."
Annette thought illness, just the same,
As journeying through Fairyland.
The sick one was led forth by him;
Such a sensation this did make,—
Their happiness, full to the brim.
To table gaily she was led.
"She'll have the first choice, don't you know,
We're glad she's back again," they said.
"Annette is queen in our tableau,
And she must lead in every game;
She has to have our father's hand."
Annette thought illness, just the same,
As journeying through Fairyland.
And so, my little ones, you see
That being ill has its bright side.
All hearts beat true to you; so be
Quite good when fever must abide.
That being ill has its bright side.
All hearts beat true to you; so be
Quite good when fever must abide.
[70]
