Not worth a flip,

And makes them seem to frolic and play

Just by his way of making them go

Skip! skip! skip!


[page 16]

THE WILLOW WAND.

BY A. E. W.

I have a little brother, And his name is Little Lewy; His starry eyes are bright as flowers And they are twice as dewy. Sometimes the dew o'erflows them, And trickles down his cheeks; And then he cries so hard, you'd think He wouldn't stop for weeks. Then my other little brother, A bough of willow bringing, Drives all the dew-drops far away, By waving it and singing: "One, two, free, fo', five, six, seven tears! You'll be as old as farver in forty sousand years. Drate big men don't have tears, so let me wipe 'em dry; In forty sousand years from now you'll never, never cry."