Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the watch-dog, . Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct, Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and su perbly Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the strag glers ; Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector, When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, the wolves howled. Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes, Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor, Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their fetlocks, While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles, Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson, Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended. Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm-yard, Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into still ness; Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn-doors, Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. H. W. LONGFELLOW: Evangeline. THE CATTLE OF A HUNDRED FARMS. And now, beset with many ills, A toilsome life I follow; Yet something ever cheers and charms And have the birds for neighbors. H. W. LONGFELLOW: Mad River. CAT-QUESTIONS. Dozing, and dozing, and dozing! Pleasant enough, Dreaming of sweet cream and mouse-meat, Delicate stuff! Waked by a somerset, whirling From cushion to floor; Waking to hands that first smooth us, Punished with slaps when we show them These big mortal tyrants even grudge us Do they think we enjoy for our music To be treated, now, just as you treat us, - --- To take just our chances in living, LUCY LARCOM. THE NEWSBOY'S CAT. Want any papers, Mister? There's Tom, an' Tibby, An' Dad, an' Mam, an Mam's cat, None on 'em earning money What do you think of that? Could n't Dad work? Why yes, Boss, An' Mam? Well, she 's in the poorhouse, Been there a year or so; Doing as well as I know. Ought n't to live so? Why, Mister, Some nights, when I'm tired an' hungry, They 'll all three cuddle around me, Well, p'raps I'll have sisters an' brothers, None o' your scraps an' leavin's, But a good square meal for all three ; If you think I'd skimp my friends, Boss, That shows you don't know me. So 'ere's your papers come take one, Gimme a lift if you can For now you've heard my story, You see I'm a fam❜ly man! E. T. CORBETT. THE CHILD AND HER PUSSY. I like little pussy, her coat is so warm, And if I don't hurt her, she 'll do me no harm; So I'll not pull her tail, nor drive her away, But pussy and I very gently will play : She shall sit by my side, and I'll give her some food; And thus show her thanks for my kindness to her. E. TAYLOR. THE ALPINE SHEEP. They in the valley's sheltering care, To airy shelves of pastures green That hang along the mountain's side, But nought can tempt the timid things The steep and rugged paths to try, Till in his arms their lambs he takes Then heedless of the rifts and breaks And in those pastures lifted fair, More dewy soft than lowland mead, MARIA LOWELL. |