quench fire; fire will not burn stick; stick will not beat dog; dog will not bite pig; pig will not jump over stile; and I shall not get home to-night."

Then the cat said to her, "If you will go to the cow and bring me some milk, I will catch the rat."

So the old woman went to the cow. But the cow said to her, "If you will go to the hay-stack and bring me some hay, I will give you some milk."

So the old woman went to the hay-stack and brought the hay to the cow. As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk. Then the old woman took the milk to the cat.

As soon as the cat had drunk the milk, she began to catch the rat; the rat began to gnaw the

rope; the rope began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink the water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the stick; the stick began to beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig, and the little pig jumped over the stile. And the old woman got home that night after all.

THE SONG OF THE ROBIN.

When the willows gleam along the brooks, And the grass grows green in sunny nooks, In the sunshine and the rain,

I hear the robin in the lane,

Singing, "Cheerily,

Cheer up, cheer up,

Cheerily, cheerily, cheer up."

THE MERRY BROWN THRUSH.

There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the

tree,

"He's singing to me! he's singing to me!" And what does he say, little girl, little boy? "Oh, the world's running over with joy! Don't you hear? don't you see?

Hush! look! In my tree

I'm as happy as happy can be!"

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see,

And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree? Don't meddle! don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! Now I'm glad! now I'm free!

And I always shall be,

If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me;

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, "Oh, the world's running over with joy! But long it won't be,

Don't you know, don't you see?

Unless we are as good as can be!”

LUCY LARCOM.

THE FATHER OF THE HOUSE.

Once upon a time a traveler was on his way home. As night came on he began to look about for a place to stay until morning. He saw before him a house as large and beautiful as a palace.

He thought to himself, "This will be a good place to stay over night." So he walked into the court-yard. There he saw an old man splitting wood. "Good evening, father," said the traveler. "May I stay over night in your house?"

.

"I am not the father of the house," answered the old man who was splitting wood. "Go into the house; you will find my father in the kitchen. He will tell you whether you may stay over night."

The traveler went into the house. He went into the kitchen and there he found an old man, much older than the one who was splitting wood in the court-yard. He was making a fire.

"Good evening, father," said the traveler. "May I stay over night in your house?

"I am not the father of the house," answered the old man who was making the fire. "Go into the next room and you will find my father. He is sitting at the table reading. He will tell you whether you may stay over night."

The traveler went into the next room.

There he saw a very old man, much older than the one who was making the fire in the kitchen.

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The old man was sitting at the table reading from a book. "Good evening, father," said the traveler. May I stay over night in your house?" "I am not the father of the house," answered the the old man who was sitting at the table reading. 'My father is over there, sitting in the chair. He will tell you whether you may stay over night."

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The traveler went over to the chair in which sat a little old man.

"Good evening, father," said the traveler to the little old man in the chair. "May I stay over night in your house?"

"I am not the father of the house," answered the little old man. "My father is on the bed in there in the sleeping-room. He will tell you whether you may stay over night."

The traveler went into the sleeping-room. On the bed lay a very little old man. His two great eyes were wide open.

"Good evening, father," said the traveler to the very little old man with the great eyes. "May I stay over night in your house?"

"I am not the father of the house," said the very little old man with the great eyes.