Up and away! now up and away!
We've a good long journey before us to-day.
The road is smooth, and the sky is bright:
Whoa, now! My darling, hold on tight!
There's joy in the saddle. We'll scour the plain
With a gentle trot and an easy rein;
And, as we journey the way along,
I'll sing my darling a trotting song.
Up and down!
Up and down!
And over the hills to Sleepy Town!
Fast or slow,
Soon, we know,
Into the land of nod we'll go.
Oh, dear me!
Right off my knee,
Into a hollow I didn't see;
And baby small,
On steed so tall,
Came near getting a horrid fall.
She's not afraid,
My little maid,
Too oft on her that trick is played;
And good is she
As good can be,
If I'll only trot her upon my knee.
Over she goes!
But don't suppose
I'll let her tumble upon her nose,
Or give a fright
To my darling bright,
Who laughs and frolics with such delight.
Whoa! now, whoa!
We must not go
So fast, my darling; for don't you know,
At such a pace,
So like a race,
We never shall come to a sleepy-place?
Trot, trot away,
And tell me, pray,
How many miles we have gone to-day?
Up and down!
Up and down!
And over the hills to Sleepy Town!
Josephine Pollard.
SAGACITY OF THE DEER.
A friend of mine who has been in the habit of hunting deer in the Adirondack Mountains, is of opinion that the deer is often more than a match for the dog in sagacity. The deer seems to be well aware that the dog is guided by his faculty of scent in tracking him; and all the deer's efforts are directed to baffling and thwarting this keen and wonderful sense with which the dog is gifted.
With this purpose, the deer will often make enormous leaps, or run around in a circle so as to confuse and puzzle his pursuers. He will mount a stone wall, and run along it for some distance, well aware that the dog cannot scent him so well on the rock as on the grass. If he can find a pond or stream of water, the deer will plunge in and swim a long distance, so that the dogs may lose his trail.
It is a joyful sound to the poor hunted deer when the dogs send up that sad, dismal howl, which they give utterance to when they have lost all scent of the deer, and despair of finding it. He is then a happy deer. He hides quietly in some covert among the bushes, and he will take care to place himself where the wind will carry all odors of his body away from the direction where he supposes the dogs to be.
So you see the deer is by no means a stupid animal. He knows, better than many a little boy, how to take care of himself, and get out of the way of danger. And now can you tell me in what part of the State of New York are the Adirondack Mountains?