Listen! he's playing again :

Do you know what makes the sound? There are little wee men that sing inside,

As he turns the handle round.

Little wee men that sing,

And frisk inside and caper;

No bigger they than your finger-nail,
And as thin as tissue-paper.

Though you should lift the lid
Softly for fear of fright'ning,

Before you could say "Jack Robinson,"

They'd be off like a flash of light'ning.

THE WALK TO SCHOOL.

LITTLE lad one morn in May,

A

As like a snail he crept to school, Saw like a sunbeam flash and play A wee fish in a pleasant pool.

Upon the grassy bank to rest

He sat, and overhead he heard

A trill-lill from a little nest

Piped by some merry morning-bird.

"You swim," he said, "wee shiny fish,
"Because you've nothing else to do:
"And I would swim, had I my wish,

"And you should have my sum to do.

"And pretty bird, had I my will,
"I'd sit like you on yonder tree,
"And sing all day your trill-a-lill,

"And you should learn my A, B, C.”

Then up he rose, and went to school; A weary, weary way; for still

The fish, he knew, swam in the pool,

The birdie sang trill-trill-a-lill.