""Tis close," said Dame Duck, shoving out The egg-shells with her bill; 'Besides, it never suits young ducks To keep them sitting still."

So rising from her nest, she said, "Now children, look at me ;

A well-bred duck should waddle so,

"Yes," said the little ones; and then She went on to explain:

"A well-bred duck turns in its toes

As I do try again."

"Yes," said the ducklings, waddling on;
"That's better," said their mother
"But well-bred ducks walk in a row,

Straight one behind another."

"Yes," said the little ducks again, All waddling in a row:

"Now to the pond," said old Dame Duck Splash, splash, and in they go.

"Let me swim first," said old Dame Duck,
"To this side- now to that;

There, snap at those great brown-winged flies,
They make young ducklings fat.

"Now when you reach the poultry-yard,
The hen-wife, Molly Head,

Will feed you with the other fowls,
On bran and mashed-up bread;

"The hens will peck and fight, but mind, I hope that all of you

Will gobble up the food as fast

As well-bred ducks should do.

"You'd better get into the dish, Unless it is too small;

In that case, I should use my foot,

And overturn it all."

The ducklings did as they were bid,
And found the plan so good,
That from that day, the other fowls
Got hardly any food.

-Aunt Effie's Rhymes.

THE White Turkey was dead! The White Turkey was dead! How the news through the barn-yard went flying!

Of a mother bereft, four small turkeys were left,

And their case for assistance was crying.

E'en the Peacock respectfully folded his tail,

As a suitable symbol of sorrow,

And his plainer wife said, "Now the old bird is dead,

Who will tend her poor chicks on the morrow?

And when evening around them comes dreary and chill

Who above them will watchfully hover?"

"Two, each night, I will tuck 'neath my wings," said the Duck, Though I've eight of my own I must cover.'

For the bugs and the worms,

"I have so much to do!
In the garden, 't is tiresome pickin' ;

- for my own I must care,"

I have nothing to spare,
Said the Hen with one chicken.

How I wish," said the Goose, I could be of some use,
For my heart is with love over-brimming ;

The next morning that 's fine, they shall go with my nine
Little, yellow-backed goslings, out swimming!

'I will do what I can," the old Dorking put in,

"And for help they may call upon me too,

Though I've ten of my own that are only half grown,
And a great deal of trouble to see to.

But those poor little things, they are all heads and wings,
And their bones through their feathers are stickin'!"
Very hard it may be, but, O, don't come to me !"
Said the Hen with one chicken.

"Half my care, I suppose, there is nobody knows, —

I'm the most overburdened of mothers !

They must learn, little elves! how to scratch for themselves,
And not seek to depend upon others."

She went by with a cluck, and the Goose to the Duck

Exclaimed, in surprise, "Well, I never!"

Said the Duck, "I declare, those who have the least care,

You will find, are complaining forever!

And when all things appear to look threatening and drear,
And when troubles your pathway are thick in,

For aid in your woe, O, beware how you go

To a Hen with one chicken !"

- Marian Douglas.

THE WATER-MILL.

"ANY grist for the mill ?" How merrily it goes! Flap, flap, flap, flap,

While the water flows.

Round about and round about,

The heavy mill-stones grind,

And the dust flies all about the mill,

And makes the miller blind.

Any grist for the mill?”

The jolly farmer packs
His wagon with a heavy load
Of very heavy sacks.
Noisily, oh noisily,

The mill-stones turn about;
You cannot make the miller hear,
Unless you scream and shout.

"Any grist for the mill?"

How quickly it goes round, Splash, splash, splash, splash, With a whirring sound. Farmers, bring your corn to-day,

And bakers bring your flour;

Dusty millers, work away,

While it is in your power.

"Any grist for the mill ?" Alas! it will not go;

The river, too, is standing still;

The ground is white with snow.