—Little Harold, out walking with his mamma, saw some men lifting a square piano from which the legs had been taken, as usual, for convenience in removal, and a happy thought struck him.
“Mamma, didn’t you tell me the other day that our piano was an upright?”
“Yes, dear. Why?”
“Well, if ours is an upright, this must be a downright.”
—The small boy taunts the teacher new,
And she in vain may fret,
She knows, whatever he may do,
He’s “mommer’s little pet.”
—Mamma lay on the lounge, with her face toward the ceiling, when Jamie, who lay beside her, asked her to “look.” Mamma turned her eyes and looked at him, without moving her head.
“No, no, mamma!” burst out the little fellow. “I want you to look at me with your nose.”