"It is very cruel, too,"
Said little Alice Neal;
"I wonder if he knew

How sad the bird would feel?"

A little boy hung down his head,
And went and hid behind the bed;
For be stole that pretty nest
From poor little yellow-breast;
And he felt so full of shame,

He didn't like to tell his name.

-L. Maria Child

M

ROBERT OF LINCOLN

ERRILY swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,

Over the mountain-side or mead,

Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Snug and safe is this nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,

Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat;

White are his shoulders, and white his crest, Hear him call, in his merry note:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,

Look what a nice new coat is mine;

Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,

Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life,

Broods in the grass while her husband sings: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Brood, kind creature, you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Never was I afraid of man ;

Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay,

Flecked with purple, a pretty sight:

There as the mother sits all day,
Robert is singing with all his might:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Nice good wife that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.

Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food;
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

This new life is likely to be

Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care,

Off is his holiday garment laid,

Half forgotten that merry air:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Nobody knows, but my mate and I,
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee.

Summer wanes; the children are grown;
Fun and frolic no more he knows;
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone;
Off he flies and we sing as he goes:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,

When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.

Chee, chee, chee.

-William Cullen Bryant

JACK FROST

'HE Frost looked forth on a still, clear night,

THE

And whispered," Now, I shall be out of sight;
So, through the valley, and over the height,
In silence I'll take my way.

I will not go on like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
That make such a bustle and noise in vain;
But I'll be as busy as they !"

So he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed With diamonds and pearls; and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread

A coat of mail, that it need not fear

The glittering point of many a spear

Which he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.

He went to the window of those who slept,
And over each pane like a fairy crept:
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,
By the morning light were seen

Most beautiful things!-there were flowers and trees,
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities, and temples, and towers; and these
All pictured in silvery sheen!

But he did one thing that was hardly fair-
He peeped in the cupboard; and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare,
"Now, just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he,
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three !
And the glass of water they've left for me
Shall 'tchick,' to tell them I'm drinking."
-Hannah F. Gould