There were a mother and children three. "Croak! croak!" the old crow did say, As from the roof he flew away,

As he flew away to a tree, to watch

The burning sod and the dry, gray thatch ;

He stayed not long till he saw it smoke,

Then he flapped his wings, and cried "Croak, croak!”

Away to the wood again flew he,

And soon he espied the slanting tree,

And Jack, who stood laughing with all his might,
His axe in his hand-he laughed for spite;

In triumph he laughed, and took up a stone,
And hammered his axe-head faster on;
"Croak, croak!" came the carrion crow,
Flapping his wings with a motion slow;
"Thwack, thwack!" the spiteful man,
When he heard his cry, with his axe began ;
"Thwack, thwack!" stroke upon stroke;
The crow flew by with a "Croak, croak!"
With a "Croak, croak!" again he came,
Just as the house burst into flame.

With a splitting crash, and a crackling sound,
Down came the tree unto the ground;

The old crow's nest afar was swung,

And the young ones here and there were flung;
And just at that moment came up a cry,

"Oh Jack, make haste, or else we die;

The house is on fire, consuming all;

Make haste, make haste, ere the roof-tree fall!"
The young crows every one were dead;
But the old crow croaked above his head;
And the mother-crow on Jack she springs,
And flaps in his face her great black wings;
And all the while he hears a wail,
That turns his cheek from red to pale-
'Twas wife and children standing there,
Wringing their hands and tearing their hair!
"Oh wo, our house is burnt to cinder,
Bedding and clothes all turned to tinder :
Down to the very hearthstone clean,
Such a dismal ruin ne'er was seen!
What shall we do?-where must we go?"

Croak, croak!" says the carrion crow.
Now ye who read this story through

Heed well the moral-'tis for you-
Strife brings forth strife: be meek and kind;
See all things with a loving mind;

Nor e'er by passion be misled

Jack by himself was punished.

THE SPIDER'S SONG.

LOOK

upon my web so fine,

See how threads with threads entwine;

If the evening wind alone
Breathe upon it, all is gone.
Thus within the darkest place
Creative Wisdom thou mayest trace;
Feeble though the insect be,
Allah speaks through that to thee.

As within the moonbeam I,
God in glory sits on high,

Sits where countless planets roll,

And from thence controls the whole:

There, with threads of thousand dyes, Life's bewildering web He plies, And the Hand that holds them all, Lets not even the feeblest fall. -FROM THE DANISH OF OEHLENSCHLAGER.

TO THE CUCKOO.

HAIL, beauteous stranger of the wood!
Attendant on the Spring!

Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,

And woods thy welcome sing.

Soon as the daisy decks the

green,

Thy certain voice we hear:
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,

When heaven is filled with music sweet
Of birds among the bowers.

The school-boy wandering in the wood

To pull the flowers so gay,
Starts, thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fly'st thy vocal vale.
An annual guest, in other lands,
Another Spring to hail.

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year!

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
We'd make, with social wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.

-MICHAEL BRUCE.

A GRACE BEFORE

MEAT.

"Eating your meat in gladness and singleness of heart." EAT thy meat in thankfulness,

Child of modest mind;

Wishing not for more or less,
Than what thou dost find;
Is thy portion but a crust?
Think what poor there be
That would, grovelling in the dust,
Beg that crust of thee!

If thy board with plenty smile,
Make no blessing less,
By lamenting all the while

Thine unworthiness.

Be no loud-tongued hypocrite,
In self-worship drest;

He whose grateful heart beats light,
Praises God the best.

If thy table mean supply
Just what hunger needs,
Never ask with envious eye
How thy neighbour feeds.
With an honest mind fulfil
Thine own humble part,
Eat thy meat in gladness still,
And singleness of heart.

-D. M. M.