Three little words you often see
Are articles a, an, and the.
A noun's the name of anything,
As house or garden, hoop or swing.
Instead of nouns the pronouns stand—
Her head, your face, his arm, my hand.
Adjectives tell the kind of noun,
As great, small, pretty, white or brown.
Verbs tell something to be done—
To read, count, sing, laugh or run.
How things are done the adverbs tell,
As slowly, quickly, ill or well.
Conjunctions join the words together,
As men and women, wind or weather.
The preposition stands before
A noun, as in or through a door.
The interjection shows surprise,
As oh! how pretty, ah! how wise.
The whole are called nine parts of speech,
Which reading, writing, speaking teach.

A New Leaf

He came to my desk with, quivering lip—
The lesson was done.
"Dear Teacher, I want a new leaf," he said,
"I have spoiled this one."
I took the old leaf, stained and blotted,
And gave him a new one all unspotted,
And into his sad eyes smiled,
"Do better, now, my child."
I went to the throne with a quivering soul—
The old year was done.
"Dear Father, hast Thou a new leaf for me?
I have spoiled this one."
He took the old leaf, stained and blotted,
And gave me a new one all unspotted,
And into my sad heart smiled,
"Do better, now, my child."
Carrie Shaw Rice.

The Boy With the Hoe

How are you hoeing your row, my boy?
Say, how are you hoeing your row?
Do you hoe it fair?
Do you hoe it square?
Do you hoe it the best that you know?
Do you cut out the weeds as you ought to do?
Do you plant what is beautiful there?
For the harvest, you know,
Will be just what you sow;
Are you working it on the square?
Say, are you killing the weeds, my boy?
Are you hoeing your row neat and clean?
Are you going straight
At a hustling gait?
Are you cutting out all that is mean?
Do you whistle and sing as you toil along?
Are you finding your work a delight?
If you do it this way
You will gladden the day,
And your row will be tended right.
Hoeing your row with a will, my boy,
And giving it thought and care,
Will insure success
And your efforts bless,
As the crop to the garner you bear;
For the world will look on as you hoe your row,
And will judge you by that which you do;
Therefore, try for first prize,
Though your utmost it tries,
For the harvest depends on you.
T.B. Weaver.

Our Flag

Fling it from mast and steeple,
Symbol o'er land and sea
Of the life of a happy people,
Gallant and strong and free.
Proudly we view its colors,
Flag of the brave and true,
With the clustered stars and the steadfast bars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the fearless-hearted,
Flag of the broken chain,
Flag in a day-dawn started,
Never to pale or wane.
Dearly we prize its colors,
With the heaven light breaking through,
The clustered stars and the steadfast bars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the sturdy fathers,
Flag of the loyal sons,
Beneath its folds it gathers
Earth's best and noblest ones.
Boldly we wave its colors,
Our veins are thrilled anew
By the steadfast bars, the clustered stars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Margaret E. Sangster.