My path with things familiar spread, New muffin-men, from lamp to lamp, Thou standest snatched from time and storm, And round thy carved and goblin form We will not part-affection dim A RUB IN THE TUB. OUR boy ran away, And fell into a gutter; Though he soon scrambled out, He was all in a flutter. Mud on his heels, Mud on his nose; Now list to his highness, If there's one thing he hates And laughs as he sits; You really might think Master Alfred in fits. He chokes and he cries, While the water it flies. Now an arm, now a leg Is seized by old Peg, Who scrubs and rubs. He kicks and scratches, But she does not care; Master Alfred she clutches, And keeps him there. THE GOOSE-GIRL'S SONG. "I'M but a little goose-girl, And through the fields I roam, White geese, grey geese, they follow when I call; "Look at the little baby things, so fluffy and so yellow; See how their mother's calling to each sandy little fellow. How proud she is, how fond she is, although she's but a goose, And thinks this pretty rivulet was made for their sole use, Her neighbours look on with contempt-such frights she never saw. With a quack, quack, quack! with a quaw, quaw, quaw! Grey goose, white goose, come here when I call; You belong to Farmer Robins, and I have to count you all." OLD CROW. A BIRD IN THE HAND'S WORTH TWO IN THE BUSH. THERE are two little songsters well known in the land, Their names are I-have and O-had-I ; I-have will come tamely and perch on your hand, But O-had-I will mock you most sadly. I-have at first sight is less fair to the eye, Full many a golden egg this bird will lay, |