Jr*u.lDlislicci Quarterly. 
FOR EVERY ONE WHO PLANTS A SEED OR TILLS A PLANT- 
TIO 7 . SUMMIT*, 1881. 
Shelling- Peas. 
f iNK sun-bonnet hanging down; 
O’er a fair face half a frown; 
Basket tipped up on her knees— 
Maiden busy shelling peas. 
Looking o’er the garden wall, 
Youthful figure, straight and tall, 
Lounges with a careless grace, 
Straw hat pushed off sunny face— 
And a pair of lazy eyes 
Look with cool and calm surprise 
On the fingers plump and white— 
Shelling peas with all their might. 
“Such a busy little bee 
Puts to shame poor thriftless me!” 
And a yawn, half made, half real, 
To these words gives sign and seal. 
Pink-sunbonnet nods assent, 
Fingers give the pods a rent, 
As though saying, “Were these you, 
I'd soon show you what I’d do!” 
“So you think I ought to be 
Quite ashamed of this poor me,’ 
Who bewails his lazy lot 
And to better it tries not?” 
Pink-sunbonnet gives a nod, 
Cracks a fresh new glistening pod, 
Which, exploding, seems to say, 
Answering for her, boldly, “yea.” 
Lazy-eyes dart a quick look, 
Naught but silence will they brook; 
Bending closer they peer down 
’Neath the bonnet’s clumsy crown. 
* I would toil and strive each hour, 
Working with a will and power, 
Had I aught to work hard for— 
Some sweet bright reward in store.” 
Pink-sunbonnet laughs out now, 
And the face is all aglow, 
As she answers, pointing down 
To her basket with a frown— 
“Lots of shell and little peas; 
Words are well and sometimes please; 
But words are shell— its fruit we need: 
Talk is easy—prove by deed!” 
Quick the lazy eyes flash fire, 
And the owner bends down nigher, 
Till the color in his cheeks 
Fades and flickers as he speaks— 
“Ah, but ’tis within the shells 
That the perfect fruit first dwells: 
All my words I’ll prove quite true, 
If my reward may be you!” 
Pink-sunbonnet’s still and dumb; 
Busy fingers quite o’ercome; 
Drop the basket off the knees. 
And down roll the half-shelled peas. 
“See, you work in vain alone— 
Without hei.p naught can be done; 
May I then through our lives be 
Helpmate to you loyally?” 
Two brown hands clasp fingers white; 
Lazy-eyes grow clear and bright; 
Pink-sunbonnet ’gainst her will, 
Looks up with cheeks pinker still, 
And again it gives a nod— 
Then a noise! Was it a pod? 
Something sounded. As j 7 ou please, 
It all happened—shelling peas. 
