Not getting as much to eat that day as he wanted, mousie had just walked up grandpa's side to his shoulder, and then up on his head. Wasn't that a queer place for a mouse to try to find something to eat?
Aunt Emmie.
HOME FROM THE WOODS.
It rains! and, hark! the rushing wind
Begins to moan and blow:
Take jug and basket, and come on.
For we have far to go.
Don't fret and whimper, little one;
Here, my umbrella take:
The birds heed not the pouring rain;
Just hear the songs they make!
And see how glad are leaf and bud
To get each cooling drop:
Come, soon it will be bright again,
For soon the rain will stop.
From the German.