"Then she says 'sister-angels are whispering to me.'
Who besides her sweet self? for papa it can't be,
No 'angel' is he. I can't quite make him out.
Of mamma and myself, you'll perceive, I've no doubt.
"Your prize composition I think very fine,
And I'm a good judge, you'll allow, Maggie mine:
Your 'subject' well chosen; ideas well expressed;
To my baby-notions 'tis clearly the best.
"But on one point, dear Maggie, you make a mistake;
Your faith in my father I rudely must shake.
You call this same soldier the 'bravest of braves,'
Now listen, and hear how this Colonel behaves.
"Whene'er I determine to take a good cry,—
A most innocent treat when no strangers are nigh!—
Why, what does this hero of so many fields,
But snatch up his cane, and then take to his heels.
"'What a coward!' you'll say. Yes, indeed, 'tis most strange;
For whene'er I do cry, it is but for a change;
One cannot be cooing and smiling all day,
Sometimes I have tried that, but find it don't pay.
"But one thing, dear Maggie, you've made very clear,
That I am 'an angel' doth plainly appear;
Then mamma says the same, and I know you're both true:
I believe it myself,—between me and you.
"Excuse my bad grammar, I must make the rhyme,
I'll do better some day, if you'll but give me time;
And, as for my manners, I'm sure that I mean
Not the least disrespect to our little May Queen.
"Yes, I fully believe such a 'treasure' as I
Must have flown from some spot very near to the sky;
And I know gentle spirits do whisper to me,
And teach me sweet lessons of what I must be.
"They tell me I must be a good little child,
A baby obedient, patient, and mild;
They tell me to love all the good and the true,
And therefore, dear Maggie, I have to love you.
"And Bessie, the darling! she, too, has some claims
For her own precious sake, to say nothing of names,
But my own sweet 'ersample' she says she will be:
They tell me to profit by what I may see.