[NURSERY BALLADS.]
A BALLAD OF THE ARK.
The elephant is painted blue, the lambs are painted red,
The zebra has rich carmine stripes upon his back and head.
The rooster's larger than the cow, the pigs are works of art,
And as for goats and lions, why, you can't tell them apart.
Shem, Ham, and Japhet look just like a row of wooden pegs,
With great long ulsters hanging down to cover up their legs.
In which they all resemble both their father and his wife,
And which is which I couldn't say—no, not to save my life.
The horses are both green and brown, and made, 'tis really true,
From just the same queer pattern as the bear and kangaroo;
And every dove and stork and chick in that strange wooden ark
Is modelled like the ostrich that they've got in Central Park.
And if you broke the horns and legs from off the yellow moose
You'd take him for a baby seal, or possibly a goose;
But spite of all I love that ark as well as any toy
That ever brought a bit of fun to any girl or boy.
But one queer thing that puzzles me, the ark, built for a boat,
When deluged in the bath-tub can't be got to stay afloat;
While all the beasts 'twas built to save instead of getting drowned,
Go floating gayly just as safe as when they're on the ground.
Carlyle Smith.
[AMERICAN-NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS.]
MARTHA WASHINGTON'S VALENTINE.
BY EMMA J. GRAY.
A group of merry girls and boys were talking with Mrs. General Washington one February evening, when one of the number suddenly inquired: "Did you ever get a valentine from the President?"
To which came the ready reply, "Of course I did!" as a conscious smile rippled over the still beautiful though now elderly face.