What is that melody weird and wild
That throbs and sobs like the wail of a child
Through the quiet night so still and mild?
Behold, it is a choir feline,
With tenors, altos—all told, nine;
Those are the Mewses, I opine.
A PRACTICAL LITTLE GIRL.
"Oh, for the wings of a dove!" sang Mollie.
"What do you want with the wings of a dove, my dear?" asked her mother.
"To put on my new hat," said Mollie.
HIS EXPLANATION.
"See here, Tommie," observed Tommie's teacher, "you ought to be able to spell your own name."
"I can," said Tommie.