'D like to be a Dahlia !"
Said Patty Periwinkle,

"To have a grand red velvet gown,
"With many a fold and wrinkle.

"I'd like to be a Dahlia !

"So tall and lofty growing,

"And with my large green spreading leaves, "About me full and flowing!

"I'd like to be a Dahlia !

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My lofty blossom raising, "With such a grand majestic air,

"To woo the sunbeam's praising.

"The trees should bend above me, "The blossoms bow before me, "The bee respect my golden heart, "The butterfly adore me:

"The speckled thrush at evening
"With songs of love address me,
"The gentle airs, in dallyings soft,
"Should welcome and caress me.

"The brook should chaunt my praises, "In many a merry tinkle,

"I wish I was a Dahlia!" Sighed Patty Periwinkle.

She grew quite discontented,
With all who came unto her,-
She snubbed the snail, she flapped the fly,
Because they dared to woo her.

She would not kiss the cricket,
Or gossip with the daisy,—
These little people stared at her,
And fancied she was crazy.

And while her airs and graces

Her neighbours all were flouting,
A saucy sun-ray glinted down,
To show how she was pouting.

The green leaves and the grasses tall,
Shook with ringing laughter

Of all who heard her discontent-
And saw what followed after!

Then said an old Blue-Bottle-
"You're neither wise nor witty,
"To tire of your blue petticoat,
"So delicately pretty!

"The Dahlia sports a crimson robe,

"Her rank is far above you:

"Why covet you her rich attire,

"When you've such hosts to love you ?"

"I daresay all you tell is true!"

Sighed Patty Periwinkle,

"But oh! that crimson robe 's so rich

"With many a fold and wrinkle ! ”

"Ha! ha!" laughed out the Earwig,

(To speak he scarce was able,) "The Dahlia grand you knew last "Is but a stick and label!

"Her root's so large and juicy,

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year,

(Both rain and sun did pet her,) "That I, and all my hungry tribe

"So loved her,—that we ate her!"

Then through the grass and leaves again There rang a merry titter,

Poor Patty Periwinkle felt

In a most awful twitter!

But all the sense, that in her heart

Lay folded

up and hidden,

At reason's voice, so clear and strong,
Came boldly forth unbidden.

"I'd rather have my pale blue gown, "Without a fold or wrinkle !

"Than merely make an earwig's meal!" Quoth Patty Periwinkle.

NCE upon a time, there was a poor old woman who lived in a little hut, close to the edge of a vast forest, that stretched away many miles and ended no one knew where. She lived in great poverty, so great indeed, that it was all she could do to find just bread enough to live upon for herself and her son, a fine, tall lad. He did what he could to support his mother; but still it could not be very much, for there was no town near, where he could obtain work. So all that he could do, was to labour hard at their little garden, which by severe toil he had succeeded in clearing and reclaiming from the forest. Here grew a few beans and lentils, some common pot-herbs and simples; and there

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