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I would call to the stars
To keep out of the way,
Lest we should rock over their toes,
And there I would rock

Till the dawn of the day,

And see where the pretty moon goes.

And there we would stay

In the beautiful skies,

And through the bright clouds we would roam,

We would see the sun set,

And see the sun rise,

And on the next rainbow come home. *

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A PRISONER OF WAR.

Он, Harry, dear Harry, do not shoot my dolly; you will spoil her quite. It is my best doll, and I love her so much!" This is what little Annie cried as she tried to take her new doll from her big brother Harry.

But Harry had two or three little boys spending the day with him, and they had been playing at soldiers. Some were French, and some English; and they stamped and fired away with their toy guns in a very terrible way. Well, all at once, little Annie had passed by, carrying her pretty doll, Miss Emma, in her long white muslin frock, and with her flaxen curls.

"A prisoner of war! a prisoner of war!" the boys cried out with one voice; and pouncing upon Miss Dolly, they took her roughly out of little Annie's arms.

Now, Annie was a very little girl, and there

Mrs. Follen.

would have been no use in her struggling to keep the doll, for she was not nearly so strong as Harry. But she was also a good and gentle little girl, and she did not begin to scream and cry. No, she only looked very pale and folded her hands, and said to Harry what I have told you.

But it was of no use. The boys thought it would be nice fun to shoot Miss Dolly. So she was set up in a chair to be shot then and there.

Poor little Annie turned away that she might not see, and hid her tears in her little hands.

But Julia, who was older and braver, came up just then, and seized hold of Harry's gun, and said, "For shame, Harry, to tease poor little Annie so." "I shall not hurt the doll," said Harry.

"But

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you hurt Annie," said his sister: I do but look at her."

Then the boys turned and looked at the little girl and felt ashamed that they had pained her.

And they untied the poor dolly, and Harry gave it back to Annie with a kiss.*

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HENRY found a poor little tom-tit in the fields. It was cold and shivering, so he took it home to warm it. Henry gave it to his sister, and she was pleased with the gift. Ann was also worthy of it, because no one could take better care of the poor birdie than she.

"Poor wee birdie!" said Ann. "perhaps you would like to be back again in your snug nest. But,

Child's Treasury.

never mind, I will make one for you, and give you a nice little house all for yourself." But the tiny tom-tit could only reply, "Twit, twit."

Then Ann got some nice crumbs soaked in milk, and the tiny tom-tit eat them up, and said, "Twit, twit."

Next, Ann put her little friend in a nice little bed made of wool. So the tiny Tom went to sleep. He woke up quite refreshed, and hopped about the cage in delight.

Well, Tom was so lively that Ann thought she would let him out to fly about a little in the free air of the room. Now, the window was open, so he alighted on the window-sill. Then, Master Tom looked round at Ann, and said "Twit, twit," and away he flew.

Tom flew up to a high tree among the other birds. But they all pecked at him, and tried to chase him away. "Be off!" they said, "we don't like tame birds." So poor Tom was very sad, but he was a sensible little bird; therefore he did not try to, force himself where he was not wanted.

Master Tom flew about here and there, and, at last, he alighted again on the window-sill, hopped into the room, and again said to his delighted little mistress, "Twit, twit."

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MULTIPLICATION AND DIVISION TABLE.

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1 The air is cold, the worms are hid;

1 For this poor bird what can be done? 1 We'll strew him here some crumbs of bread, And then he'll live 2 till the snow is gone.

* Re-arranged from " Rhymes, Jingles, and Songs."

The air is cold
For this poor bird
We'll strew him hicre

2

till the snow

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