MY PRETTY POLLY.
Better than hoop or doll,
I love my pretty chattering poll,
For tho’ the creature mocks my words
I know her mock’ry but a bird’s.
And while upon my neck she’ll loll,
And screaming out, “Pretty Poll,”
I learn from the sweet chattering elf,
To not have too much tongue myself.
I learn how many girls there be,
Who without thinking talk like she,
And parrot like they ever chatter,
When they should think of something better.
Thus while I hear her prattle words,
I think that girls should not be birds,
Nor like them waste their time so dear,
In chattering everything they hear.
ELIZABETH WITH HER NEW FROCK.
THE NEW FROCK.
Here is Elizabeth dressed in her new frock, given to her by her mother, for doing what she is bid like a good girl.
She looks as if she was dressed to pay a visit to some of her friends; but I hope she will not be proud, and get too fond of going from home; she should remember that her frock was made out of the poor silk-worm’s winter house, that her shoes were made out of the skin of a goat, and the pearls about her neck were drawn from the bottom of the sea, and that unless she is pleasant, affectionate, and kind, no body will like her better for her new clothes. There are some little girls who think because they have a new frock on, that they are better than others who are dressed in common clothes, which is not at all right.