THE SQUIRREL.

THE SQUIRREL.

A FABLE.

A SQUIRREL, he sat on the topmost limb
Of a fine old hickory, graceful and slim,
For his breakfast he 'd run over heather and heath,
And now he sat cosily picking his teeth.

And there as he sat gently fanned by the breeze,
That rustled the leaves of the old forest trees,

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A poor wounded Dove came and perched by his side, And to his "Good morning," thus trembling replied:

"I warn you, Sir Squirrel, to run for your life,
Lest sorrow you bring on your children and wife;
A hunter is coming, with dog and with gun,
As a friend I'd advise you, Sir Squirrel, to run.

"Take warning, I pray you, from my bleeding breast, And hasten away to your leaf-guarded nest." "Pooh! pooh!" quoth the Squirrel, "I scorn thus to I fear not the hunter, his dog, nor his gun.' [run.

""

"Good-bye, then, Sir Squirrel, ere yet 'tis too late,
I go, and I leave you alone to your fate."
Away sped the dove, over heather and heath,
And the Squirrel sat cosily picking his teeth.

But soon came the hunter, with dog and with gun,
And then the poor Squirrel would gladly have run,
But a victim he fell to his folly and pride,
And for scorning good counsel, the poor Squirrel died.

MORAL.

We are apt to forget, in prosperity's hour, [lower;
That round our bright path dark misfortunes may
We neglect to prepare 'gainst an unhappy fate,
And mourn o'er our folly save when 't is too late.

PREPARING FOR SUNDAY.

HASTE! put your playthings all away,
To-morrow is the Sabbath-day;
Come, bring to me your Noah's ark,
Your pretty tinkling music-cart;
Because, my love, you must not play,
But holy keep the Sabbath-day.

Bring me your German village, please,
With all its houses, gates, and trees;
Your waxen doll, with eyes of blue,
And all her tea-things, bright and new;
Because, you know, you must not play,
But love to keep the Sabbath-day.

THE WET SPARROW.

Now take your Sunday pictures down;
King David with his harp and crown,
Good little Samuel on his knees,
And many pleasant sights like these;
Because, you know, you must not play,
But learn of God upon his day.

There is your hymn-book. You shall learn
A verse, and some sweet kisses earn ; .
Your book of Bible stories, too,
Which dear mamma will read to you:
I think, although you must not play,
We'll have a happy Sabbath-day.

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M. L. DUNCAN.

THE WET SPARROW.

How heavy the rain is that falls on the ground!
How cold is the wind through the garden that

blows!

It shakes the large drops from the branches aroundAnd see! it has torn all the leaves from that rose.

I'm glad I'm within doors, so warm and so dry, Where the rain cannot wet me that beats on the pane;

But what is that hopping so quietly by?
little sparrow, that's out in the rain.

"Tis a poor

It cannot find shelter, for wet is each tree,
And no clothing it has to protect it at all.
Ah! poor little creature, how cold it must be!

Mamma, may I take the poor sparrow a shawl!

A shawl would but trouble the sparrow, my child; It has clothing still softer and warmer than yours, Which never wears out, nor by wetting is spoiled ;

For through summer and winter its beauty endures.

Now, look at it closer, and see how 't is drest

It is covered with feathers of many a shade: Its tail sober brown is, and white is its breast, And in coat black and grey it is neatly arrayed.

For God, who so kindly gives comforts to you, Takes care of the sparrow, and clothes it, and feeds;

He warmly protects it from rain and from dew,
And gives it the shelter and rest that it needs.

And see it has flown to its home on the tree,

'Mong the thick bowery leaves, where secure it can hide,

Or can soar on its pinions, all joyous and free,
As happy as you, when you sport by my side.

MARY LUNDIE DUNCAN.

LITTLE THINGS.

LITTLE THINGS.

A SPIDER is a little thing,
But once a spider saved a king;
The little bees are wiser far
Than buffalo and lions are;
Little men may do much harm;
Little girls may learn to charm;
Eittle boys may shame their sires,
And little sparks become great fires;
A little pen may write a word

By which a nation shall be stirred ;
A little money wisely spent,
A world of sorrow may prevent;

A little counsel rightly given,

May lift a sinful soul to heaven.
Little losses day by day,

Would waste old Rothschild's wealth away;

A little needle in the eye,
May cause an elephant to die;
A little fault, if left to grow,
An emperor may overthrow;
A little word but spoke in jest,
May rob your neighbor of his rest ;
A little selfishness and pride,

The kindest household may divide;

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