those of a tiny file, and on the inner 

 margin toward the base from the end 

 of the principal vein, a hardened por- 

 tion, which may be called the scraper. 



By using the files and scrapers of their 

 fore wings the little musicians add their 

 notes to the universal music of the 

 world. Ellanora Kinsley Marble. 



A LITTLE BIRD. 



A little Bird in a tree 

 Made one — a man and maiden three. 

 'Twas not by chance that they had met! 

 "None see," they said; one can forget 

 A little Bird. 



A long hot road, a strip of grass, 

 'Twould tempt the Fates to let it pass! 

 Two people linger in the walk; 

 There's only one to hear them talk, 

 A little Bird. 



Long shadows stretched across the sky. 

 Two people parted with a sigh, 

 But there was no one there to see! 

 How do I know? and who told me? 

 A little Bird. 



—E. R. C. 



THE TURKEY'S FAREWELL. 



I go, but I return. 

 The fiery furnace has no horrors for me. 

 Mine is a race of martyrs. I can trace 

 Ancestors by the score who laid their heads 

 Upon the axman's block. It is a little way 

 We have. Why should I care to flaunt 

 My feathered beauty on a bare November bough? 

 I shall appear again in a far richer dressing. 

 In years to come it will be said of me, 

 As of my ancestors, that nothing in my life 

 Shed so much glory as the leaving of it. 

 Full many a little child that now 

 Is prattling at its grandma's knee shall say 

 In future years that of all days it holds 

 In the most sacred memory the one 

 When it officiated at 

 The funeral of this Turk. And now 

 Lest some one shall say I knew not how to die, 

 Let the ax fall. 



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