And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversions

to see,

Mounted high overhead and look'd down from

a tree.

Then out came the Spider, with finger so fine,
To show his dexterity on the tight-line.
From one branch to another his cobwebs he
slung,

Then quick as an arrow he darted along.

But just in the middle-oh! shocking to tell, From his rope, in an instant, poor Harlequin fell.

Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread,

Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread.

Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring,

Very long was his leg, though but short was his wing;

He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight,

Then chirp'd his own praises the rest of the

night.

With step so majestic the Snail did advance, And promised the Gazers a Minuet to dance; But they all laughed so loud that he pulled in his head,

And went in his own little chamber to bed. Then as Evening gave way to the shadows of Night

Their Watchman, the Glowworm, came out with a light.

"Then home let us hasten, while yet we can see, For no Watchman is waiting for you and for

So said little Robert, and pacing along,

His merry Companions return'd in a throng.

WILLIAM ROSCOE.

Tastes and Preferences

A Wish

Mine be a cot beside the hill;

A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear;
A willowy brook, that turns a mill,
With many a fall shall linger near.

The swallow oft beneath my thatch
Shall twitter from her clay-built nest;
Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch

And share my meal, a welcome guest.

Around my ivied porch shall spring
Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew;
And Lucy at her wheel shall sing

In russet gown and apron blue.

The village church among the trees,
Where first our marriage vows were given,
With merry peals shall swell the breeze,
And point with taper spire to Heaven.

SAMUEL ROgers.

Wishing

Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose,

A bright yellow Primrose blowing in the Spring!

The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across,

And the Elm-tree for our King!

Nay-stay! I wish I were an Elm-tree, A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay!

The winds would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, The birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing!

O-no! I wish I were a Robin,

A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to

go;

Through forest, field, or garden,

And ask no leave or pardon,

Till Winter comes with icy thumbs
To ruffle up our wing!

Well-tell! Where should I fly to,

Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell? Before a day was over,

Home comes the rover,

For Mother's kiss,-sweeter this

Than any other thing!

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

Bunches of Grapes

"Bunches of grapes," says Timothy;
"Pomegranates pink," says Elaine;
"A junket of cream and a cranberry tart
For me," says Jane.

"Love-in-a-mist," says Timothy;
"Primroses pale," says Elaine;
"A nosegay of pinks and mignonette
For me," says Jane.

"Chariots of gold," says Timothy;
"Silvery wings," says Elaine;

"A bumpity ride in a waggon of hay For me," says Jane.

WALTER RAMAL.