What thing your hand is doing, or mine,

So long shall live and so bright shall shine?

The dear Lord only knows!

But shall we not try some work to do,

That shall sweetly bloom all the long years through, Like the hundred year old rose?

JIM'S JOURNEY.

GEORGE COOPER.

Unhappy Jim cried for the Moon-
Such a tune!

He stretched out his wee rosy hand,
To make all the folks understand
That he'd have it whether or no:
That's so.

A fairy was passing that way,
People say.

She heard the spoilt baby's "boo-hoo,"
And took him without more ado,

On a very long journey, indeed,
With speed.

Up, up, 'mid the stars, like a flash,

Did they dash.

The "Little Bear" wondered and growled,
The "Big Bear" protested and howled;
They stopped at the "Dipper" to drink,
I think.

Bright stars swarmed around them like bees. "One of these

I think I'd prefer, Fairy good,

Instead of the Moon, it you would.

Do stop. I'll take home to Mamma
That star."

Away! for the good Fairy heard
Not a word.

Then lo! 'mid the bright, blinding glare,
While the Man in the Moon gave a stare,
They stepped on the keen silver rim.
Poor Jim!

They wandered o'er valley and hill,
Fair and still;

But all was so lonely, in spite

Of mountains and rivers of light.

'I think I'd choose dull Earth instead," Jim said.

"There's no home, there's no mother here. Dear, oh dear.

Oh! please take me back, Fairy sweet;
And, if on Earth we should meet,

I'll pay you when I am a man
And can."

"I'll just wish you there in a wink
And a blink,"

The Fairy said, spreading her wings.
"Don't cry for impossible things-
This piece of advice I give you.
Adieu!"

THE SPARROW'S MAY-DAY.

ALFRED NELSON.

Said Mr. Sparrow to his wife,

One morning in the early spring: "Dear Mrs. S-, upon my life,

I've come across the grandest thing"A brand-new house, with floors to let, A mansard roof, and all complete! We'll take a floor to-day, my pet,

And you must keep it nice and neat."

"The situation is tip-top-
None better wheresoe'er you hop,
And quite within the reach of all

The windows where the crumbs do fall."

So off they flew, in haste, to see
The brand new house; and, deary me!
Didn't they flutter in and out,

Scarce knowing what they were about.

Good Mrs. S-, with straw in mouth,
Picked out a room that faced the south;
For, very prudently, thought she:

"The sun will warm both eggs and me."

But Mr. Sparrow did declare

The sun would surely scorch her there;
And as the room was very high,
Their little ones would fall and die.

At last they settled with each other
The first floor front to be the best;
And how they did help one another
To build a cosy little nest!

They both flew up, they both flew down,

With thread and rags and bits of straw;

They were the busiest birds in town,
And each day busier than before.

At last the nest is all complete,

And Mrs. Sparrow stays inside,

And keeps the house so nice and neat,

And when the little birds appear

Won't Mr. Sparrow hop and sing, And say to Mrs. S――: "My dear,

Our brand-new house is just the thing!"

MY-MOTHER-WANTS-ME.*

[For Dandelion Time.]

BY M. B. C. S.

[Recite with a handful of Dandelion balls, blowing them at second and third stanzas.]

The dandelions were going to seed,

Their soft globes shining all over the mead ;
Cloud-like and feathery, downy and white,
The "my-mother-wants-me," so airy and light.
"I'll try one," said Katy; "one, two, three,
And see if my mother is wanting me."
Off at her breathing, each winged seed flew,
And she gaily came running to ask was it true.
Next Lulie her one, two, three times puffed,
But she blew off but half of the snowy tuft.
So she laughingly said, "I can play all day,
For my-mother-wants-me says I may."

But little Nell, sorrowful, turning aside,
No sign of the my-mother-wants-me tried;
For her mother dwells in the far land where
They make no sign when they want us there.

So I said, "Little Nelly, take one and blow,
And hasten to me if the seeds all go;"
And I hope the dear mother in heaven smiled
When she saw that I wanted her orphan child!

THE FATE OF A FACE MAKER.

MARGARET VANDEGRIFT.

It was once upon a time-but that time I cannot say-
That there lived a little girl who had a naughty way
Of making ugly faces whenever anything teased her;

And, to make the matter worse, nearly everything displeased her.

*All the children know the "My-mother-wants-me" sign. They blow the dandelion globes three times, and if the seeds go off, their mother wants them.

She did not like to get up, and she hated to go to bed;

She did not like to read, and she hated to hear things said;
She did not like it to rain, and she hated the sun to shine;
She was never ready for dinner, and—well, she did like to dine.

Her loving parents thought some fairy had bewitched her; They reasoned with her long, and finally they switched her; But the more they switched her and reasoned, the worse their darling grew,

Until they owned to each other, they didn't know what to do.

It was just about this time she went for a walk one day,
Because she had been told on no account to stray
Outside the palace garden-you've read in many a rhyme,
That folks always lived in palaces, "once upon a time."

So she strayed away from home as far as ever she could,
And found herself at last in a dark and dismal wood,
When all at once she saw-you may guess she was afraid—
Lying loose among the trees, all the faces she'd ever made.

There was the face she made to frighten her little brother, And a worse one still she made when she would not mind her mother.

And as she looked around, they still grew worse and worse · There was every horrid face she had ever made at her nurse.

And many more beside-she'd done it for years, you see,
So the place was just as full of faces as it could be.

She turned and ran, poor thing, as well as she could for fright,
And when she did get home, they found she was crazy, quite.

They sent her to an asylum at once, but there, alas!
By way of amusing her, they gave her a looking glass.

When they opened her door next day, there was nothing in the place

But a broken looking glass, and a terribly ugly Face!