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Dolly comes in, seat yourself in front of the fire, and take the tongs in your hand. Whenever a sharp word comes from Dolly, gently snap the tongs without speaking a word."

Soon afterwards, in marched Dolly to see her little friend.

It was not a quarter of an hour before Dolly's temper was ruffled, and her voice was raised, and, as usual, she began to find fault and scold. Marjorie fled to the hearth and seized the tongs, snapping them gently.

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"Why don't you speak?" screamed Dolly in a fury. Snap! went the tongs.

"Speak!" said she. Snap! was the only answer.

"I'll never, never come again-never!" cried Dolly.

Away she went. Did she keep her promise? No, indeed. She came the very next day; but seeing Marjorie run for the tongs, she solemnly said if she would only let them alone, they should quarrel no more for ever and ever!

GRANDMA'S JEWELS.

LIZZIE P. SMART.

[Give in a tender, expressive manner.]

In an old trunk of Grandma's,

That I found the other night,

Was a tiny case of jewels,
Lined with satin white.

First I came to a circlet of pearls,
Once worn on Grandma's hair,

Those tresses now are silver,

And need no gems more rare.

Then a dainty turquoise ring,

That was clasped by chubby hands;

And many more delicate trinkets

Grown old 'mid life's swift sands,

Then a great seal ring of Grandpa's

And a lock of lover's hair.

And the tiny diamond engagement ring
That Grandma used to wear.

There were other treasures in the trunk,
Fairy slippers and fans of white;
Orange blossoms, and wedding gowns,
Once such a dainty sight!

And Grandma told me the story,

As I sat upon her knee,

Of the time long, long ago,

When she lived on "Bonnie Dundee."

And she looked so very pleasant,

A white 'kerchief on her breast,

As she told me the old story

Of the days she loved the best.

Angels guard dear gentle Grandma—
May those gems be hers in heaven;
For, to the loving ones of earth,
The bright Crown shall be given!

LITTLE JOHNNY ON BABIES.

ANON.

[Speak this seriously.]

BABIES aint big enuf to lick, or you wude see me a pitchin into em, I can tell you, for I don't like em, but wen you luke at one and see em so little, you say, now if I was to take of my cote and give you a good thrashin you cudent help yourself, so may be you cant help being a nuisance, too. That's wot say wen our baby puts its gummy hands onto my face wen Ime made to set and mind him, but you jest wait til he gets as big as me, so it wude be a fair fite, and then see wot Ile do, that's all! I spose I like that little

feller like Ine tole to, but wot does he put his gummy hands for in my face wen I kiss him?

I no were there is a baby, wich is a lot older than ourn, but not morn half so big, and it cant wok, and it cant tok, but sech dresses as that baby wears wude make yure head swim. It is in a shop windo, and it is made of whax.

spose babies is different from fokes cos they don't no no better, but if I was them you wudent cetch me puttin everything in this world into my mouth, I can tel you, like ourn does. Mary, thats the house maid, she was only a chile wen she was to home, and she use to have dols, but she never see a meat baby real close til she came to our house, and that girl was jes a stonish ol the time to see wot baby wude do, and it was morn munth fore she wud touch it. One day Mary she come a bustin in the dinin room wen it was dinner, wite like a sheet and hardly any breth, and she said, O, if you please, mum, baby has went and et the nursry dore every bit up, ol but jest the nob, but wen my mother she went to see wot was the matter it was only father had tuke of the dore to mend it, and baby was a suckin a round paper wate. Sech a girl!

A POUTING GIRL.

ANON.

[Slowly and with humor.]

Sniff, sniff, sniff!

Little May is in a tiff.

Snuff, snuff, snuff!

Don't you think she's cried enough?

Pout, pout, pout!

How her pretty lips stick out!

Drop, drop, drop!

Will the quick tears never stop?

Shade, shade, shade!

I am very much afraid

That she has forgotten quite

To be sunny, sweet and bright!

Creep, creep, creep!

A little smile begins to peep.

Oh, oh, oh!

Now she is ashamed, I know.

Fie, fie, fie!

Do not look so very shy.

Peek, peek, peek!

There's a dimple in her cheek.

Run, run, run,

Naughty clouds, before the sun!
Tears and trouble go away
From all little girls to day!

GUESSING.

W. O. C.

[Exercise for a small boy and two young ladies. Young ladies take their places, and reply from the audience.]

Boy. Can anybody guess my conundrum? I'll tell you pretty quick what it is. (Holds up a large potato.) Why is a little boy like a potato?

First Young Lady (rising.) Because he needs sprouting to keep him good.

Boy. I don't need sprouting to keep me good. I always mind my mother, and say please," and she always can't say "no." Guess more.

Second Young Lady (rising.) Why is a little boy like a potato? Because you must wash the dirt off before you can see his skin. Boy. That isn't any such thing. My face is washed, and washed, and washed; and there never's a bit of dirt on it. You (Holds up hands, which are black

can see how clean my hands are. with dirt.) Guess more.

First Young Lady. I don't think we can guess. You will have to tell.

Boy. Why is a little boy like a potato? Because he has eyes. (Makes bow and retires.)

GOOD MORNING.

ANON.

[Deliver in a lively manner.]

Don't forget to say "Good Morning!" Say it to your parents, your brothers and sisters, your schoolmates, your teachers; and say it cheerfully and with a smile. It will do you good and do your friends good. There's a kind of inspiration in every "Good Morning," heartily and smilingly spoken, that helps to make hope fresher and work lighter. It seems really seems to make the morning good, and to be a prophecy of a good day to come after it!

And if this be true of the "Good Morning," it is true, also, of all kind, heartsome greetings. They cheer the discouraged; rest the tired one; and, somehow, make the wheels of life ru snoothly. Never forget to say "Good Morning!"

A SUMMER SHOWER.

GEORGE COOPER.

[To be given in a descriptive manner.}

The dust is flying here and there
In funny little whirls;

The leaves are turning upside down¬
The breeze among them swirls.
The cows are lowing in the lane,
And window shutters creak;
Rumble, rumble, rumble,

The clouds begin to speak.

A shiver runs along the brook,
And leaden grows the sky;
The sunshine falls a mile away,
Then shuts up like an eye.
You couldn't find a bird or bee
In upland, vale or plain.
Patter, patter, patter,

The bulging drops of rain.

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