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“ A day, in such obedience spent,
For frequently I find
And make a heavy mind.”
Charle> QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.
Who show'd the little ant the way
Her narrow hole to bore?
In laying up her store?
Of wool, and hay, and moss ;
And lay the twigs across ?
Among the sweetest flow'rs,
To eat in winter hours?
And gave their little ski,
To do his holy will.
THE POOR FLY.
So, so, you are running away, Mr. Fly,
go too high;
-as I told you before, It is dead, and it never will stand any more. Poor thing! as it buzz'd up and down on the glass, How little it thought what was coming to pass ! For it could not have guess’d, as it frisk'd in the sun, That a child would destroy it for nothing but fun. The spider, that weaves hic fiue cobweb so neat, Might have caught him,indeed, for he wants him to eat; But the poor flies must learn to keep out of your way, As you kill them for nothing at all, but your play.
WHAT CAME OF FIRING A GUN. Ah! there falls, and now 'tis dead, The shot went through it's pretty head,
And broke its shining wing !
Poor harmless little thing!
To sing a merry song ;
As light it skimm'd along.
(Hid in the springing corn,
It never should return.
Or bring them dainties rare:
All in the bitter air.
Poor little bird !«if people knew
I think that even boys
For nothing but the noise.
there he goes,
Ah! the poor little blaekamoor, see,
He was once a negro-boy, and a merry boy was he,
But there came some wicked people, and they stole
him far away, And then good-bye to palm-tree tall, and merry,
merry play, For they took him from his house and home, and ev'ry
body dear, And now, poor little negro-boy, he's come a begging
the wicked folks who did this cruel thing! I wish some mighty nobleman would go and tell the
king ; For to steal him from his house and home must be a
crying sin, Though he was a little negro-boy, and had a sooty
« How can I the south from the north ever know,
When there is no S in the sky;
When not the least mark I can spy?"
His mother, who sat at her work by the fire,
To Alfred's request thus replied : “ Come, listen to me, and I'll soon tell you how,
The difficult point to decide. "Wherever the sun rises, there is the east,
Now that is both easy and clear; Wherever at ev’ning he sets from your view,
The west, my beloved, is there.