102 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SOMEBODY'S KNOCKING. 



THERE'S somebody knocking. Hark ! who can it be ? 

 It's not at the door ! no, it's in the elm tree. 

 I hear it again ; it goes rat-a-tat-tat ! 

 Now, what in the world is the meaning-of that? 



I think I can tell you. Ah, yes ! it is he: 

 It's young Master Woodpecker, gallant and free. 

 He's dressed very handsomely (rat-a-tat-taf), 

 Just like a young dandy, so comely and fat. 



He's making his visits this morning, you see : 



Some friends of his live in that elm tree ; 



And, as trees have no door-bells (rat-a-tat-taf), 



Of course he must knock : what is plainer than that ? 



Now old Madam Bug hears him rap at her door : 

 Why doesn't she come ? Does she think him a bore ? 

 She stays in her chamber, and keeps very still. 

 I guess she's afraid that he's bringing a bill. 



''I've seen you before, my good master," says she: 

 "Although I'm a bug, sir, you can't humbug me. 

 Rap on, if you please ! at your rapping I laugh, 

 I'm too old a bug to be caught with your chaff." 

 The Nursery. 



MY TREE. 



WHICH is the best of all the trees ? 

 Answer me, children all, if you please. 

 Is it the oak, the king of the wood, 

 That for a hundred years has stood ? 

 The graceful elm, or the stately ash, 

 Or the aspen, whose leaflets shimmer and flash? 



Is it the solemn and gloomy pine, 



With its million needles so sharp and fine ? 



Ah, no ! The tree that I love best, 



It buds and blossoms not with the rest; 



No summer sun on its fruit has smiled, 



But the ice and snow are around it piled ; 



But still it will bloom and bear fruit for me, 



My winter bloomer ! my Christmas tree ! 



Youth's Companion. 



