Employment

Who'll come and play with me here under the tree,

My sisters have left me alone;

My sweet little Sparrow, come hither to me,
And play with me while they are gone.

O no, little lady, I can't come, indeed,
I've no time to idle away,

I've got all my dear little children to feed,
And my nest to new cover with hay.

Pretty Bee, do not buzz about over the flower,
But come here and play with me, do:

The Sparrow won't come and stay with me an

hour

But stay, pretty Bee-will not you?

O no, little lady, for do not you see,

Those must work who would prosper and thrive,

If I play, they would call me a sad idle bee,
And perhaps turn me out of the hive.

Stop! stop! little Ant-do not run off so fast,
Wait with me a little and play:

I hope I shall find a companion at last,
You are not so busy as they.

O no, little lady, I can't stay with you,
We're not made to play, but to labor:
I always have something or other to do,
If not for myself, for a neighbor.

What then, have they all some employment but

me,

Who lie lounging here like a dunce?

O then, like the Ant, and the Sparrow, and Bee, I'll go to my lesson at once.

Jane Taylor.

Stitching

A pocket handkerchief to hem—
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!
How many stitches it will take
Before it's done, I fear.

Yet set a stitch and then a stitch,
And stitch and stitch away,

Till stitch by stitch the hem is done—

And after work is play!

Christina G. Rossetti.

Learning to Play

Upon a tall piano stool
I have to sit and play
A stupid finger exercise

For half an hour a day.

They call it "playing," but to me
It's not a bit of fun.

I play when I am out of doors,
Where I can jump and run.

But Mother says the little birds
Who sing so nicely now,
Had first to learn, and practice too,
All sitting on a bough.

And maybe if I practice hard,
Like them, I too, some day,
Shall make the pretty music sound;
Then I shall call it "play."

Abbie Farwell Brown.

In Trust *

It's coming, boys,

It's almost here;

It's coming, girls,

The grand New Year!

* From " Rhymes and Jingles," copyright, 1874, 1904, by Chas.

Scribner's Sons.

A year to be glad in,
Not to be bad in;
A year to live in,
To gain and give in;
A year for trying,
And not for sighing;
A year for striving
And hearty thriving;
A bright new year.
Oh! hold it dear;

For God who sendeth

He only lendeth.

Mary Mapes Dodge

LITTLE PRINCE AND PRINCESS

VI

THE PALACE BED-TIME