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Down bends the branch now; swing him away, Higher yet, higher yet, higher, I say!

Oh, what a joy it is! Now, let us sing,

"A pear for the Queen, an apple for the King," And shake the old tree as we swing, we swing.

* 82 *

THE FAIRY QUEEN'S SONG.

COME follow, follow me,

Ye fairy elves1 that be; 2
Light tripping o'er the green,
Come follow Mab, your Queen:
Hand in hand we'll dance around,
For this place is fairy ground.

When mortals are at rest,
And snoring in their nest,
Unheard and unespied,

Through keyholes we do glide;
Over tables, stools, and shelves,
We trip it with our fairy elves.

Upon a mushroom's head
Our table-cloth we spread;
A grain of rye or wheat

3

The viands that we eat;

Pearly drops of dew we drink

In acorn cups filled to the brink.

1 fairy elf (plural, elves), an imaginary or 'make-believe' little being formerly believed to haunt woods and wild places.

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And stand amid the drifted snow,
Like thee, a thing apart,

Than be a man who walks with men,

But has a frozen heart.

* 86 *

ANNIE D. GREEN.

(MARIAN DOUglas.)

DEEDS OF KINDNESS.

SUPPOSE the little cowslip

Should hang its golden cup,
And say, "I'm such a tiny flower,
I'd better not grow up."
How many a weary traveller
Would miss its fragrant smell!
How many a little child would grieve
To lose it from the dell !

Suppose the glistening dewdrop
Upon the grass should say,
"What can a little dewdrop do?
I'd better roll away."

The blade on which it rested,
Before the day was done,
Without a drop to moisten it,
Would wither in the sun.

"Suppose the little breezes, Upon a summer's day,

Should think themselves too small to cool The traveller on his way:

Who would not miss the smallest

And softest ones that blow,

And think they made a great mistake,
If they were talking so?

How many deeds of kindness.
A little child may do,

Although it has so little strength,

And little wisdom too!

It wants a loving spirit,

Much more than strength, to prove

How many things a child may do
For others by its love.

* 87 *

CHICK-A-DE-DEE.

F. p.

THE ground was all covered with snow one day,
And two little sisters were busy at play,
When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree,
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee.
Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee!

And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee.

He had not been singing that tune very long, Ere Emily heard him, so sweet was his song; "O sister, look out of the window!" said she: "Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee;

Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee.

"O mother! do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat, if you choose; I wish he'd come into the parlor, and see

How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee! Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee!

How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-dedee!"

"There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who,

Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too: Good-morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?" And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-dee. Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee!

And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-dee.

* 88 *

F. C. WOODWORTH.

DON'T KILL THE BIRDS.

DON'T kill the birds! — the little birds
That sing about your door

Soon as the joyous spring has come,

And chilling storms are o'er.

The little birds, how sweet they sing!

Oh, let them joyous live!

And never seek to take the life

That you can never give.

Don't kill the birds! - the pretty birds

That play among the trees:

'Twould make the earth a cheerless place,
Should we dispense with these.
The little birds, how fond they play!
Do not disturb their sport,

But let them warble forth their songs
Till winter cuts them short.

Don't kill the birds! - the happy birds
That bless the field and grove;

So innocent to look upon,

They claim our warmest love.
The happy birds, the tuneful birds,
How pleasant 'tis to see!

No spot can be a cheerless place
Where'er their presence be.

D. C. COLESWORTHY.

* 89 *

GOD'S GOODNESS.

WHO has counted the leaves that fall
In the autumn from the trees?
Who has counted the grains of sand
That are hid beneath the seas?

Who has counted how many flowers
In the fields and gardens grow?
Who, on a gloomy winter's day,
Has counted the flakes of snow?

1 dispense with, do without.

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