But let an O-had-I once take your eye,

And a longing to catch him once seize you,
He'll give you no comfort nor rest till you die,
Life-long he'll torment you and tease you.

He'll keep you all day running up and down hill,
Now racing, now panting and creeping;
While far overhead, this sweet bird at his will
With his golden plumage is sweeping.

Then every wise man who attends to my song,
Will count his I-have a choice treasure ;
And whene'er an O-had-I comes flying along,
Will just let him fly at his pleasure.

LANGEEIN.

BABY-BIRDS.

LAST year a linnet's brood I bought,
Just taken from the spray,

To save them from their captors' hands,
Who tortured them with play.

Upon the lawn I placed my charge,
Screened from the noontide glare,
And far from cats; but ere an hour
The mother found them there.

Day after day, and hour by hour,
To feed her young she sped,
Placed every sunny morn by me
Beneath an arboury shed.

They lived, and feathers grew apace
Where down was spread before,

Till one bright morn they disappeared—
I saw my pets no more.

MAMMA'S DARLING.

WON'T you come and sit on the floor,
And see my box of bricks?

And when we have built a station,

We will make a train with sticks;

You put them in an even line,
And give a push, and blow
And puff like a big steam-engine,
And then the train will go.
I do not want to learn to read,
I'm as tired as tired can be ;
Besides, I am mamina's own darling-
You mustn't be cross to me.

Do come and see my rocking-horse,
It's such a funny thing;

It cannot trot, and does not jump,
But goes just like a swing.
And I have a camp and soldiers,
And such a great big ball.
Now have I not a many toys?
Mamma she gave me all.
She did not say I was to learn ;

Why can't you let me be !

You know I'm mamma's own darling

You mustn't be cross to me.

I cannot bear my slate and sums,
I know my one, two, three;
Besides, I'm mamma's own darling—
You mustn't be cross to me.

Mamma she gives me cakes and sweets,
And often takes me out,

And when 'tis wet, such funny tales

She tells me all about.

Will she be glad if I can spell?
Why then of course I'll try ;
Good-bye, dear toys, we'll have a game-

Not yet, but by-and-by.

I'm going to learn my lessons,

And say my one, two, three,

Because I am mamma's own darling,

And she is so kind to me.

REA.

THE MONTHS.

JANUARY brings the snow,

Makes our feet and fingers glow;

February brings the rain,

Thaws the frozen lake again;

March brings breezes loud and shrill,

Stirs the dancing daffodil;

April brings the primrose sweet,

Scatters daisies at our feet;

May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams;

June brings tulips, lilies, roses,

Fills the children's hands with posies;
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers;

August brings the sheaves of corn,

Then the harvest home is borne ;