A FABLE FOR SMART LITTLE BOYS.
There was a little Hottentot
Who wandered in a shady spot,
Beside a sluggish river's brink,
Where savage beasts came down to drink,
When suddenly he ran across
A monstrous, grim rhinoceros.
The little blackamoor was pert,
And not afraid of being hurt;
So, without any hesitation,
He entered into conversation,
And, just to make his smartness clear,
Began to ridicule and jeer:
"My gracious! what an ugly beast!
Your skin is all begrimed and creased
And what a nose for shape and size,
With a great horn between the eyes!"
Whereat that big rhinoceros
Just gave his nose a little toss,
His funny little critic eyed
With grim good-humor, and replied:
"My nose, young darky? take a look
At yours, reflected in the brook:
Now tell me what you think of that?"
"Mine? Why, 'twas beautifully flat
When I was born; my mother's care
To give me a distinguished air
Has broadened it to what you see,
And made my playmates envy me."
"Yes, made you quite a beau! But hark 'ee,
You most impertinent young darky,
And let me tell you I was made
With this huge form, and thus arrayed
With a great horn upon my nose,
To serve as warning to all those
Who poke in other folks's platters,
And make free with their neighbors' matters.
I've half a mind—'twould serve you right—
To toss you fairly out of sight.
I'm coming for you now! Here goes!
Say, now, how do you like my nose?"
"Oh, don't, you dear, good, lovely beast!
I didn't mean it in the least;
You are the sweetest beast I know,
And every one will tell you so."
"You little impudence! begone!
Quick, or my nose shall help you on!"
That frightened little Hottentot
Departed on a lively trot.
Lynn, North Carolina.
I am nine years old. I have a little baby sister named Jeanne. We had to leave papa, and come here with mamma for her health. We have a little mule named Kit, that is very little and gentle, and we ride it nearly every day. Kit just suits these mountain roads. The mountains are very high and beautiful. A great many people come here with their little boys and girls, so I always have playmates.
We go fishing and riding. I have a garden of my own. I study part of the day, then I play, and have a good time. Strawberries are ripe now, and peaches will be ripe in June on the mountains in what they call the thermal belt, where the frost has not killed them as it has in other places this year.
Just now the mountains are covered with flowers. There are azalias, kalmias, rhododendrons, wild phlox, and other flowers, and many trees are blooming. Mamma says she never saw so many flowers in her life. When you look up the mountain from below, it looks like the made pyramids of flowers we have at home in the city, only so much bigger. I wish everybody could see. Papa sends me Young People, and I am delighted with it.
Fred J. T.