There came a big spider
Who sat down beside her,

And frightened Miss Muffet away.

LITTLE JACK HORNER

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
Eating a Christmas pie;

He put in his thumb, and he took out a plum,
And said, "What a good boy am I!"

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread.
She whipped them all round and sent them to bed.

COME MY CHILDREN, COME AWAY

Come, my children, come away,
For the sun shines bright to-day;
Little children, come with me,
Birds and brooks and posies see;

Everything is laughing, singing,
All the pretty flowers are springing;
See the kitten, full of fun,
Sporting in the brilliant sun;
Children too may sport and play,
For it is a pleasant day.

Bring the hoop, and bring the ball,
Come with happy faces all;

Let us make a merry ring,

Talk and laugh, and dance and sing.
Quickly, quickly, come away,
For it is a pleasant day.

AS I WALKED BY MYSELF

As I walked by myself,

And talked to myself,

Myself said unto me,

Look to thyself, take care of thyself,

For nobody cares for thee.

I answered myself,

And said to myself

In the self-same repartee,

Look to thyself, or not look to thyself,
The self-same will be.

LITTLE BOY BLUE

Little boy blue, come blow your horn,

The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn;

Where's the little boy that tends the sheep?
He's under the haycock, fast asleep.

Go wake him, go wake him. Oh! no, not I;
For if I awake him, he'll certainly cry.

WHEN THE WIND IS IN THE EAST

When the wind is in the east,
'Tis neither good for man or beast;
When the wind is in the north,
The skilful fisher goes not forth;
When the wind is in the south,

It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth;
When the wind is in the west,
Then it's at the very best.

CHILDREN'S SELECTIONS

THE OLD OWL AND THE BELL

Geo. MacDonald.

"Bing, Bim, Bang, Bome!"

Sang the Bell to himself in his house at home,
Up in the tower, away and unseen,

In a twilight of ivy, cool and green;

With his Bing, Bim, Bang, Bome!

Singing bass to himself in his house at home.

Said the owl to himself, as he sat below
On a window ledge, like a ball of snow,
"Pest on that fellow, sitting up there,
Always calling the people to prayer!
With his Bing, Bim, Bang, Bome!
Mighty big in his house at home!

"I will move," said the owl. "But it suits me well; And one may get used to it,-who can tell?"

So he slept in the day with all his might,
And rose and flapped in the hush of night,
When the bell was asleep in his tower at home,
Dreaming over his Bing, Bang, Bome!

For the owl was born so poor and genteel,
He was forced from the first to pick and steal;
He scorned to work for honest bread-
"Better have never been hatched,” he said.
So he slept all day; for he dared not roam
Till the night had silenced the Bing, Bang, Bome!

HE TOOK A HEADER

Charles F. Adams.

They met in a field, 'mid the blooming heather; A punster, a ram and an old bell-wether.

No cry of alarm did the young man utter,
He simply murmured: "I'll pass the butter."

"And I'll butt the passer," observed the ram, "I ain't any Mary's little lamb.”

""That tired feeling' I'll o'er him bring, So often caused by 'a forward spring.'

"I'll give him 'a header' he will not like."

And he "cast sheep's eyes" at the youth and bike.

Sheep, bike and punster lay mingled together;
The youth was "a little under the wether."

ALL IN HIS EYE

Charles F. Adams.

He jumped on board the railway train,
And cried, "Farewell! Lucinda Jane,
My precious, sweet Lucinda!"
Alas! how soon he changed his cry,
And, while the tear stood in his eye,
He said, "Confound Loose Cinder!"

FALL POETRY

Charles F. Adams.

A certain young woman, named Hannah,
Slipped down on a piece of banana;
She shrieked, and oh-my'd!
And more stars she spied

Than belongs to the star-spangled banner.

A gentleman sprang to assist her,
And picked up her muff and her wrister.
"Did you fall, ma'am?" he cried;

"Do you think,” she replied,
"I sat down for the fun of it, Mister?"

HOME MEMORIES

Charles F. Adams.

"Be it ever so humble,

There's no place like home!"

I'm sitting again 'neath the old elm-tree's shade, And viewing the fields where in childhood I strayed; The breeze fans my cheek, and the birds go and come, While I listen, entranced, to the bee's soothing hum.