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Her face is like the May-time,

Her voice is like a bird's;
The sweetest of all music

Is in her lightsome words.

Each spot she makes the brightest,
As if she were the sun;
And she is sought and cherished,

And loved by every one.

By old folks and by children,
By lofty and by low;
Who is this little maiden?
Does anybody know?

You surely must have met her;
You certainly can guess,
What! must I introduce her?

Her name is-Cheerfulness!

THE BROWN THRUSH.

LUCY LARCOM.

[To be given in a lively, animated style.]

There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree;
He's singing to me! he's singing to me!

And what does he say, little girl, little boy?

"Oh, the world is running over with joy !

Don't you hear? don't you see?

Hush! Look! In my tree

I'm as happy as happy can be!"

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest, do you see,

And five eggs, hid by me in the juniper tree?

Don't meddle! Don't touch! little girl, little boy,

Or the world will lose some of its joy.

Now I'm glad! Now I'm free!

And I always shall be,

If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,
To you and to me, to you and to me;

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy,
Oh, the world's running over with joy!

But long it won't be

Don't you know? don't you see?

Unless we are as good as can be?

DO YOUR BEST.

W. C. O.

[Speak in a bold style.]

"If you are running along in a hurry, and stumble over a brickbat, and spill your dinner pail, all right; kick the brickbat out of the way, pick up your dinner pail, save your bread and butter, if you can; if not, whistle "Hail Columbia,” and run on to school. It won't do to be put down by a brickbat. Take hold of your book as a squirrel takes hold of a hickory nut-be bound to get the meat out, if there is any in it.

Because Tom Lazychops wants to be a fool is no reason why you should be one. Do your best every time; and then, when the teacher calls out the classes, you can walk out like a man, and tell her to go ahead!"

A WEE BIT LASSIE.

JULIA M. THAYER.

[Recite naturally.]

I'm just a wee bit lassie, with a lassie's winsome ways,
And worth my weight in solid gold-so Uncle Johnny says.
My curly little noddle holds a thimbleful of sense;

Not quite as much as Solomon's-but his was so immense!

I know that sugar plums are sweet, that "no, my love," means "yes;"

That when I'm big I'll always wear my pretty Sunday dress.
And I can count-'leven, six, nine, five-and say my A, B, C.
Now, have you any taffy, dears, that you could give to me?

TWINKLE, TWINKLE.

ANON.

[Speak this tenderly, gazing upwards.]

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the glorious sun is set,
When the grass with dew is wet,
Then
you show your little light;
Twinkle, twinkle all the night.
In the dark blue sky you keep
Often thro' my curtains peep;
For you never shut your eye
Till the sun is in the sky,

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark;
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle little star.

TUMBLING DOGGIE.

ANON.

[Render this with appropriate actions, standing on one leg, pointing to the nose, &c.]

There was a little boy, and he had a little dog,

And he taught that dog to beg;

And that dear little dog all dinner time

Would stand upon one leg.

One day, to his master's great surprise,
That little dog said, "Here goes!"
And he cocked his hind legs up in the air,
And stood upon his nose!

LULLABY.

HOOD

[Tenderly and softly.]

Lullaby, baby! go to sleep.
Eyes-oh, how naughty, still to peep!

Lullaby, baby! curl up your toes; Cuddle your little knees up to your nose.

Lullaby, baby! eyes shut tight;
Little mouth open; so good night!

DON'T GIVE UP!

PHOEBE CARY.

[Boldly and with force.]

If you tried and have not won,
Never stop for crying;

All that's great and good is done
Just by patient trying.

Though young birds in flying, fall,

Still their wings grow stronger; And the next time they can keep Up a little longer.

Though the sturdy oak has known
Many a blast that bowed her,
She has risen again, and grown
Loftier and prouder.

If by easy work you beat,

Who the more will prize you? Gaining victory from defeat, That's the test that tries you!

A LITTLE BOY'S LECTURE.

JULIA M. THAYER.

[To be given in an important, grandiloquent style.]

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: Nearly four hundred years ago the mighty mind of Columbus, traversing unknown seas, clasped this new continent in its embrace.

A few centuries later arose one here who now lives in all our hearts as the Father of his Country. An able warrior, a sagacious statesman, a noble gentleman. Yes, Christopher Columbus was great. George Washington was great. But here, my friends, in

this glorious nineteenth century is—a grater! [Exhibiting a large, bright, tin grater. The large kind used for horseradish could be most easily distinguished by the audience.]

HOE YOUR OWN ROW.

ALICE CARY.

[With spirit.]

I think there are some maxims

Under the sun

Scarce worth preservation;

But here, boys, is one

So sound and so simple

'Tis worth while to know

And all in the single line,
"Hoe your own row!"

If you want to have riches,
And want to have friends,
Don't trample the means down
And look for the ends;
But always remember,

Wherever you go,

The wisdom of practicing

"Hoe your own row!"

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