Pedro has lived happily in his new home ever since; and, though he still likes to play on his fiddle, he has no wish to return to his old wandering mode of life.

Cousin Emily.

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THE PARROT'S LAMENT.

Swinging in a gilded cage,
Petted like a baby's doll,
Thus I spend my dull old age,
And you call me "Poll."
But in youth I roved at will
Through the wild woods of Brazil.

When you ask me, "What's o'clock?"
Or repeat some foolish rhyme,
And I try your speech to mock,
I recall the time
When I raised my voice so shrill
In the wild woods of Brazil.

Sporting with my comrades there,
How I flew from bough to bough!
Then I was as free as air:
I'm a captive now.
Oh that I were roaming still
Through the wild woods of Brazil!

Jane Oliver.