"An' sweeter den rosies an' lilies,
Or wiolets eder, I guess—"
When away flew the mischievous darling,
In the scantiest kind of a dress.
"Don't care if the birdies an' fowers,"
He shouted, with clear, ringing laugh,
"Wash 'eir hands an' 'eir faces forebber
An' ebber, me won't take a baff."
MARGARET EYTINGE.