ACROSTIC.

Roses and tulips, with all their gay train,

O’er garden and landscape cause beauty to reign.

By the brook, or the hillside, or light woody grove,

Enchanted—delighted—on, smiling, we rove;

’Rapt up in fond thoughts of the verdure and bloom,

’Till autumn’s cold frost sweeps the whole to the tomb.

My emotions, when life seems thus passing and vain,

Even wisdom and prudence can hardly restrain.

Rude winter now comes, and with sleet, hail, and snow,

Right and left sends his arrows, as shivering we go.

Yet I see there’s a chance, even now, to be cheery,

Sitting snug by the fire, with old Robert Merry.

My cosy old friend, no winter is found

Unfurled in thy pages the whole season round!

Still birds sing their songs in some warm, sunny clime,

Ever speaking in music and talking in rhyme;

Unless you may tell us some odd tale that’s true,

Making all of us merry, Old Merry, with you!

Sure I am, I do not know

Why we love our Nebby so;

But I am sure, as sure can be,

Nebby knows why he loves me.

Mattie feeds Neb every day,

And ’tis as good as any play,

Just to see his pranks and freaks,

When to Nebby Mattie speaks.

When I go home from the store,

Nebby meets me at the door,

And says, most eloquently dumb,

"Nebby’s glad that you have come."

Nebby is a little pet;

Nebby don’t know how to fret;

But he knows the tenderest part

Of our Mattie’s tender heart.