Catholic Child's Song.

A LITTLE Catholic am I,

Safe in St Peter's boat;

The Holy Cross my mast-tree high,

As o'er the waves I float.

Our Lady's mantle is my sail

To help me on my way,

And saints, and angels' eyes I hail
With bright and starry ray.

O happy, happy o'er the sea
Thus all secure to float:
Heaven's harbour of eternity,
'Tis there I 'll moor my boat.
Still at the helm my angel stands
Kind pilot o'er the wave;
My soul is safe in holy hands,
It feareth not the grave.

Then, little sailors, all embark

In Peter's boat with me;

So shall we stem the billows dark,
And safely cross the sea.

The Holy Cross is all our guide,

The ocean star shines clear ;

And who would fear the waters wide, With angel guardians near?

Child's Evening Song.

FROM THE GERMAN.

SOON will the daylight fade

Yes, light will fade

My little bed is made. Then I'll lay me down to rest, For God my sleep hath blessed; And He the whole night throughYes, all night through

Watches over me so true.

Then I will sweetly sleep-
Yes, sweetly sleep-

For He doth safely keep.
From Heaven above at night
Come shining angels bright;
They stand around my bed-
Yes, around my bed-

And their white wings shade my head.
And when the day will break-
Yes, day will break-
Then they tell me to awake.
And, with the morning ray,
I'll spring from bed so gay :
"Thanks, Father, be to Thee-
Thanks be to Thee ---

And the angels who guarded me!"

Barry, the St Bernard's Dog.

DARK winter's eve was closing round,
The snow fell thick and fast,
And round the monastery wall
It drifted in the blast.

And at the door a woman stood
When vesper prayers were sung,
A widow woman, poor and frail,
In tears, her hands she wrung.

"Oh, holy fathers," then she said ;
"My child the mountain crost,
And in the drifting hills of snow
His every trace is lost.

"A friendless widow, poor and lorn,
My only child was he;
God's blessing will be yours, if ye

Can bring him back to me."

B

"Oh, weep not; trust in God's great love,

Who watcheth all around,

And in our Lady's prayer, who once

Her Jesus lost and found."

Then the good monks went forth to search,

Upon the mountains wide,

And with them Barry, faithful dog,

Their true and trusty guide.

Full long they sought, and evening fell,
Yet still no trace could find:

At length, brave Barry loudly barked,
And ran, and snuffed the wind.

The scent was found, the faithful dog

Nearer and nearer drew,
Until he saw the long-lost child,

Whom he had sought so true.

Sound sleeping on the new-fallen snow,
With bright and rosy cheek;

Yet, there to sleep till morning's light,
He never more might wake.

But Barry licked him o'er and o'er,
His little limbs to warm,

And lifted him with gentle mouth,
Safe as on mother's arm.

Ah! who may tell his mother's thanks
To God, and Mary blest,

When she, with tears of gladness, clasped
Her darling to her breast!

And then she thanked the kind good monks,
Who thus had saved her boy;

And dear old Barry, too, she thanked,
Who wagged his tail for joy!