Little girls should learn to knit and to sew,
Then if to womanhood they ever grow,
Their hose they can knit and make their own dress,
And pathway of life for others they bless.
For people will talk.
And their homes they should make tidy and neat,
Everything should be so clean and so sweet,
This line for ourselves out we will chalk
And we are determined in it to walk.
For people will talk.
IN MEMORIAM.
Lines on the death of my only son, who died on the 5th of July, 1876, on the anniversary of his mother's death.
His mother from celestial bower,
In the self-same day and hour
Of her death or heavenly birth,
Gazed again upon the earth,
And saw her gentle, loving boy,
Once source of fond maternal joy,
In anguish on a couch of pain.
She knew that earthly hopes were vain,
And beckoned him to realms above
To share with her the heavenly love.
PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.
Providential escape of Ruby and Neil McLeod, children of Angus McLeod of this town. Little Neil McKay McLeod, a child of three years of age, was carried under a covered raceway, upwards of one hundred yards, the whole distance being either covered o'er with roadway, buildings or ice.
A wondrous tale we now do trace
Of little children fell in race,
The youngest of these little dears,
The boy's age is but three years.
While coasting o'er the treacherous ice,
These precious pearls of great price,
The elder Ruby, the daughter,
Was rescued from the ice cold water.