THE DOLLS' WEDDING.
I am so glad that the sunshine has driven the clouds away,
For my dolly, my darling dolly, is going to be married to-day.
She has had a great many suitors—a dozen, I do declare—
And only last week, Wednesday, she refused a millionaire.
Sophie Read is his mother; she thought we'd feel so grand
That a doll with a diamond stud should offer my child his hand.
But Rose cares little for money, and she's given her heart away
To Charlie, the gallant sailor, who will make her his bride to-day.
Nora has made her a bride-cake with frosting as white as snow,
And I wove her bridal wreath from the tiniest flowers that blow;
And brother Harry has promised (he's ever so kind, I'm sure)
To lend them his beautiful yacht when they sail on their wedding tour.
We make believe it's the ocean, the lake in the Park, you know;
And Charlie, the little sailor, is so delighted to go.
Oh, my! he does look cunning in his suit of navy blue.
His mother, my most particular friend, is little Nelly Drew.
Look! they are coming, Mary. Oh, they are a lovely pair!
Charlie, the black-eyed sailor, and Rose with her golden hair.
Doesn't she look like a fairy peeping out from a fleecy cloud,
In that lovely dress and veil? But we mustn't talk out loud.
If I could just squeeze out a tear—I suppose it's the proper thing,
Since she is my only child—but indeed I would rather sing,
For the sun is shining brightly, and everything seems gay,
And to Charlie, the dear little sailor, my dolly is married to-day.
[Continued from No. 2, Page 15.]
THE STORY OF A PARROT.
So many months had passed since I was stolen from my beautiful home that I was already a bird of considerable size. I was brought on shore by a sailor, who took me to a dismal place in a dirty, noisy street, where I found several hundred other birds—parrots, canaries, Java sparrows, and many kinds I had never seen before, confined in small cages. The confusion of sounds was dreadful, and I was sorry to hear that most of the conversation was the most malicious gossip. I was received with shouts of derision, and indeed my appearance was as wretched as possible. My feathers were soiled and broken, and I was overcome with sadness. The air of the place was stifling, and although the man who had charge of me gave me enough to eat, my cage and feed dishes were so dirty that I could not taste a mouthful. Some of my companions showed sympathy for me, and I found a sad consolation in chatting with them; but for all that, the days passed wearily, and I often wished myself dead. My cage was sometimes placed upon a long table in the centre of the room, that I might be inspected by various persons, from whose conversation with my owner I learned that I was for sale. How sadly my thoughts flew back to my poor parents, who would certainly have died of grief had they known of my unfortunate condition, and that I, a free child of the broad African forest, was about to be sold into life-long slavery! So bad-tempered was I (for I plunged furiously at every one who approached me) that no one wished to buy me, and my owner would often say, "That African imp is only fit to kill and stuff." He might kill and stuff me for all I cared, and I made no effort to control my temper.
At last one day a very kind-looking gentleman came in, and stopping before my cage, began to admire the rich color of my plumage. "All he needs is care and kindness to make him a fine bird," he said; and I soon understood that he had ordered me sent to his house.
