THE LITTLE MOTE.
A little mote lived in a sunbeam,
And danced in its light all day;
But she jumped with surprise one morning,
At hearing the housemaid say:—
"Oh, the dust! How it keeps one a-working!
It settles all over the room—
And the air is so full, it is folly
To labor with duster and broom!"
"Poor thing!" sighed the mote, "well, I'm sorry.
I think I'll go hide in her hair—
I'm such a wee speck of a dustlet
She never will know I am there."
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When I was little,
Thought I was big;
Now I'm a giant,
Don't care a fig.
When I was nobody,
Felt quite a chap;
Now that I'm somebody,
Don't care a snap.
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What makes baby brave and bright?
Angels guard him day and night.
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