moults all its pretty feathers. And so I shed my leaves."

“Then,” said the little girl, “I'll spill my milk."

So she dropped the jug, and spilt all her milk.

Now there was an old man on a ladder, picking apples from the tree. And he said:

"Little girl, why did you spill your

milk?"

And the little girl said:

"Oh, Titty is dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, and the door shuts, and the window creaks, and the old bench runs around the house, and the little bird moults all its pretty feathers, and the tree sheds all its beautiful green leaves. And so I spill my milk."

"Then," said the old man, "I'll fall off the ladder and break my neck." So he fell off the ladder and broke his neck.

And the ladder fell against the house, and over the old bench, and

upset the door and broke the window,

and the house fell down.

And the stool and the broom and

poor Tatty Mouse were covered up under the ruins.

The sun is hidden from our sight,

The birds are sleeping sound;

'Tis time to say to all, "Good night!" And give a kiss all round.

Good night, my father, mother dear,

Now kiss your little

son;

Good night! my friends,

both far and near,

Good night to every

one.

Good night! ye merry,

merry birds,

Sleep well till morn-
ing light;

Perhaps if you could sing in words,
You would have said, "Good night!
To all my pretty flowers good night!
You blossom while I sleep;

And all the stars that shine so bright,

With you their watches keep.

The moon is lighting up the skies,
The stars are sparkling there;
"Tis time to shut our weary eyes,
And say our evening prayer.