"P-I-P-E," said Bobbie.
"That's right. And now tell me something about pipes. What do people do with them?"
"Well," said Bobbie, thoughtfully, "boys blow bubbles with 'em; plumbers put 'em in; Scotchmen blow music out of 'em; and men like Pa smoke 'em. It all depends on the kind of pipes you want me to tell you about."
A YOUTHFUL OBSERVER.
"Dear me, Robbie," said his mother, "do you want to be a baby all your life? Do behave yourself."
"I wouldn't mind, Mamma," said Robbie. "All the baby does is laugh and squawk and get waited on. Seems to me that's rather pleasant."
AN OPINION.
I don't know what my Daddy does,
But I've a sort of whim
That when I get to be a man
I'd like to be like him!
For he's the finest chum I have.
It doesn't matter what
He does to me, I think he's best
Of all the friends I've got!
Why, even when he takes his hand
And spanks me, and I cry,
I cannot truly help but see
A look in Daddy's eye
Which shows me, though he doesn't spare
My feelings with his hand,
He loves me more than anything
That lives on sea or land.
And so I say if sometimes I
Have little boys like his,
I hope that I'll be to them as
To me my Daddy is!
John Kendrick Bangs.