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 ín,
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 aell?
Before a day was over,

Home would come the rover,

For mother's kiss! sweeter this

Than any other thing.

WHO TO CHOOSE COMPANIONS.

ANON.

[Change the voice, if possible, in order to imitate the two supposed to be in conversation.]

"By your leave, sir," said a water rat to the kingfisher, “this is my house." And he sat in the doorway to prevent the kingfisher from entering.

Nay, but I want to come in," said the kingfisher, "I have paid you my visits before, and why not now? Think how handsome I am, and how much my family is sought after."

"You have been in before, sir; but to tell you the truth, that's the very reason I prefer to keep you out now, notwithstanding your fine clothes and your fine family. You have an awkward habit of eating fish and leaving the bones at my door. Now, I don't want anything laid to me that I don't deserve, and as I don't catch and eat fish I won't have the credit of it. I consider no company worth having that takes away my character!"

THE VIOLET.

JANE TAYLOR.

[To be delivered simply and unaffectedly.]

Down in a green and shady bed
A modest violet grew;

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colors bright and fair!
It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.

Yet there it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;

And there diffused its sweet perfume
Within the silent glade.

Then let me to the valley go,

This pretty flower to see,

That I may also learn to grow

In sweet humility.

THE COWBOY'S SONG.

MRS. ANNA M. WELLS.

[Give this piece in a coaxing tone of voice, and imitate the "mooing" of a cow at the end of each stanza.]

Mooly cow, mooly cow, home from the wood
They sent me to fetch you as fast as I could.
The sun has gone down-it is time to go home,
Mooly cow, mooly cow, why don't you come?
Your udders are full, and the milkmaid is there,
Aud the children all waiting, their suppers to share.
I have let the long bars down--why don't you pass thro'?"
The mooly cow only said, "Moo-0-0 !"

"Mooly cow, mooly cow, whisking your tail
The milkmaid is waiting, I say, with her pail;
She tucks up her petticoats, tidy and neat,
And places the three legged stool for her seat.
What can you be staring at, Mooly? You know
That we ought to have gone home an hour ago.
How dark it is growing! O, what shall I do ?"
The mooly cow only said, "Mo0-0-0 1"

GRAMMAR IN RHYME.

ANON.

[Speak every word distinctly; make the proper pauses.]

Three little words you often see

Are articles, a, an, and the.

A noun's the name of anything,
As school, or garden, hoop or ring.

Adjectives show the kind of noun,
As great, small, pretty, white or brown.
Instead of nouns pronouns stand-
Her head, his face, your arm, my hand.
Verbs tell us something to be done-
To read, count, fly, sing, jump or run.
How things are done the adverbs tell,
As slowly, quickly, ill or well.

Conjunctions join the words together,
As men and women, wind and weather.

The proposition stands before
A noun, as in or through the door.

The interjection shows surprise,
As O! how pretty-Ah! how wise.

The whole are called nine parts of speech,
Which reading, writing, speaking teach.

THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL.

R. W. EMERSON.

[To be given in a natural, descriptive manner

The mountain and the squirrel

Had a quarrel,

And the former called the latter "Little Prig;"

Bun replied,

"You are doubtless very big,

But all sorts of things and weather

Must be taken in together

To make up a year,

And a sphere.

And I think it no disgrace

To occupy my place.

If I'm not so large as you,

You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry;

I'll not deny you make

A very pretty squirrel track.

Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut!"

THE LITTLE DUTCHMAN.

MARY MAPES DODGE.

[Speak with a broken accent, boldly.]

Oh, I'm a little Tuchman,

My name is Van der Dose,
An' vat I cannot get to eat
I smells it mit my nose.

An' ven dey vill not let me play
I takes it out in vork;

An' ven dey makes me vork too hard
I soon de jop vill shirk.

An' ven dey sends me off to bed
I lays avake all night;

An' ven dey comes to vake me up
I shut my eyes up tight.

For I'm a little Tuchman,
My name is Van der Dose,
An' vat I do not know myself
I never vants to knows.

THAT BOY.

GEORGE COOPER.

[Deliver this paying attention to the rising inflection of the voice in almost every line.]

Is the house turned topsy-turvy?

Does it ring from street to roof?

Will the racket still continue,
Spite of all your mild reproof?

Are you often in a flutter?

Are you sometimes filled with joy?
Then I have my grave suspicions
That you have at home-that boy.