With guilty, conscience-stricken tears,I offer up these rhymes of mineTo children of maturer yearsFrom Seventeen to Ninety-nine.A special solace may they beIn days of second infancy. The frenzied mother who observesThis volume in her offspring's hand,And trembles for the darling's nerves,Must please to clearly understand,If baby suffers by and byThe Publisher's at fault, not I !...