[Illustration: "HE ... TOOK IT TO MR. BLADES."]
"You won't kill her, will you, Mr. Blades?" he faltered, for the sight of the knives in the shop was too much for him.
Harry has learned a hard lesson. Don't you hope Edgar will buy that rabbit for him again? I do.
_Words from_ "LITTLE FOLKS." _Music by_ BURNHAM W. HORNER.
1. Said a wee little bird, with a pert little look, To an adjutant stork by the river--"I suppose that you think you're as wise as a book, And in fact that you're wondrously clever! You're a picture of dignity, that I'll admit, But alas! that is all I'll allow, ... For indeed you're not quarter as wise as a tit, That hops to and fro on the bough."
Said the adjutant-stork to the wee little bird, With a dignified kind of a stare-- "Little creatures like you should be seen and not heard, And your impudence well we can spare! You had better by far go back to your nest, And be pert where they'll heed what you do; For you see that in height I'm six feet and the rest, While you are just no feet two!"
So it is with us all as we pass through the day: For we each of us think we're most clever-- Whether impudent bird that chatters away, Or "Dignity" stork by the river. On our size or our form or our talents we pose, And we hold ourselves up every hour: If the Queen of the Garden be known as the Rose, Then we are that wonderful flower!
JOTTINGS AND PENCILLINGS, HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE
Some time since, a blind gentleman, well known in the north of England, went for a walk of several miles, accompanied by his dog. He knew the road so well, that he did not strap up the dog, but let it run loose. He had gone nearly five miles on his way, and was crossing some fields by a footpath, when his dog gave a peculiar whine in front of him. He was about to climb a stile, when another whine was heard. This startled him, so he crossed the stile as carefully as he could, feeling every step. Just as he got over the stile, the dog gave a louder whine of alarm, placed its fore feet upon his breast, and held him fast against the stile. He tried to push the dog aside, but it would not let him proceed. The strap was therefore put around its neck, and the wise creature at once led its master by a roundabout way quite out of the ordinary path. It appeared that part of the footpath which led past a stream had been entirely washed away by a flood, so that, had the gentleman continued upon the old path, he must have met with a most serious accident. What made the sagacity of the dog more conspicuous on this occasion was the fact that it had not been with its master for eighteen months--he having been laid up for the whole of that period, and the dog living with a friend during the illness.