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LILY’S BALL. 
Lily gave a party, 
And her little playmates all, 
Gaily dressed, came in their best, 
To dance at Lily’s ball. 
Little Quaker Primrose 
Sat and never stirred; 
And, except in whispers, 
Never spoke a word. 
Tulip fine and Dahlia 
Shone in silk and satin; 
And learned Old Convolvulus 
Was tiresome with his Latin. 
Snow-drop nearly fainted 
Because the room was hot, 
And went away before the rest 
With sweet Forget me not. 
Pans}^ danced with Daffodil, 
Eose with Yiolet; 
Silly Daisy fell in love 
With pr tty Mignonette. 
And when they danced the country- 
dance, 
One could scarcely tell 
Which of these two danced it the best, 
Cowslip, or Heather-bell. 
Between the dances, when they all 
Were seated in their places, 
I thought I never saw before 
So many pretty faces. 
But of all the pretty maidens 
I saw at Lily’s ball, 
Darling Lily was to me 
The sweetest of them all. 
And when the dance was over, 
They went down stairs to sup, 
And each had a taste of honey-cake, 
With deAv in a Butter-cup. 
And all were dressed to go away 
Before the set of sun ; 
And Lily said 4 ‘ Good-by,” and gave 
A kiss to every one. 
And before Ihe moon or a single star 
Was shining overhead, 
Lily and her little friends 
Were fast asleep in bed. 
Miss K. is a large, fleshy lady, weighing, we will 
not undertake to say how much. After having called 
at the parsonage one day, the little son of the minister 
having occasion to refer to her, hut not being able to 
recall her name, designated her as that “round lady.” 
At one of the ragged schools in Ireland, a clergyman 
asked the question: “What is holiness V’ A pupil 
in dirty tattered rags jumped up and said : “ Plaze 
your riverence, it is to be clane inside.” 
Two little girls were comparing progress in a cate- 
original 
sm,' 
said 
chisin study. “I’ve got to 
“ How far have you got V’ “ Me ? Oh, I’m way be¬ 
yond redemption,” said the other. 
FUNNY CHILDREN. 
An incident which occurred in the 
dining-room of a leading hotel, is 
told by an exchange with much 
gusto. A lady and her little son 
were seated at the dinner-table, 
and some things not being entirely 
satisfactory, the young scion ex¬ 
pressed himself to that effect. The 
mother rose from her chair and said, 
in an undertone : “ Come with me 
up stairs, and I will attend to your 
case.” The lad understood at once 
what “ attending to his case ” 
meant, but there was an important 
matter of detail which he was pain¬ 
fully anxious to have more fully 
explained: so pulling backward on the hand of his 
mother, he blubbered 'nit in a voice loud enough to be 
heard over most of the well-fill oci room : “ Say, mother, 
are you going to take your hand or your slipper ?” 
A gentleman who was unusually well pleased with 
the sermon preached last Sunday afternoon at one of 
our city churches, remarked at supper that he was 
carried right to the gates of Heaven by it. His . pre¬ 
cocious six-year-old son upon hearing him say this, 
exclaimed, “ Why didn’t you dodge in father, it’s the 
best chance you’ll ever have of getting into Heaven.” 
A Spring Frolic. 
Minnie, a little tliree-year-old in this city, took it 
into her head that “ Hod likes new prayers.” So 
after repeating “Now I lay me,” and “Jesus like a 
shepherd,” the other night, she told her mother she 
would, like to make a “new prayer.” Her mother 
nodded assent, whereupon Minnie gravely proceeded : 
“ 0 Lord, bless all the Minnies, and all the papas and 
all the mammas, and all the Uncle Arthurs! Jesus, 
I’ve been vaccinated, and I guess its going to work!” 
Two little boys, sons of a clergyman, had some dif¬ 
ficulty, in which the younger was thought to have 
treated his brother unkindly. His mother, taking the 
case in hand, so represented it to him that he was 
made to feel that it would be proper for him to make 
an apology, and the following was agreed upon : “I 
am sorry for what I did to you, and I ask your pardon.” 
Hastening to have it done, he soon got through with 
the first part of it, when, his memory failing him, 
turning to his mother, he earnestly asked, “Mother, 
what is the rest of it f ” 
The superintendent asked me to take charge of a 
Sunday-school class. “You’ll find ’em rather a hard 
lot,” said he. “ They all went fishing last Sunday 
but Johnny Hand. He is really a good boy, and I 
hope his example may yet redeem 
the others. I wish you’d talk to 
’em a little.” I told him I would. 
They ivere rather a hard-looking 
set. I don’t think I ever witnessed 
a more elegant assortment of black 
eyes in my life. Little Johnny 
Rand, the good boy, Was in his 
place, and I smiled on him approv 
ingly. As soon as the lessons were 
over, I said : “Boys, your super¬ 
intendent tells me you were fishing- 
last Sunday. All but little Johnny, 
here. “ You didn’t go, did you, 
Johnny ?” “ No, sir.” “ That was 
right. Though this boy is the 
youngest among you,” I continued, 
“ you will now learn from his own 
lips word of good counsel which I 
hope you will profit by.” I lifted 
him on the seat beside me, and 
smoothed his auburn locks. “ Now, 
Johnny, I want you to tell your 
teacher and these wicked boys, why 
you didn’t go fishing with them 
last Sunday. Speak up loud, now. 
It. was because it was wicked, and 
you had rather come to Sunday 
school, wasn’t itf” “No, sir; it 
was cos I couldn’t find no worms 
for bait.” 
The following little gem will do 
to print again and again as an ex¬ 
ample of genuine simplicity, truth 
and beauty: 
The Unfinished Pkayer. 
“Now I lay me,”—say it darling, 
“ Lay me.” lisped the tiny lips 
Of my daughter, kneeling, bending 
O'er her folded finger-tips. 
“Down to sleep ”— 44 To sleep,” she mur¬ 
mured, 
And the curly-head dropped low. 
“ I pray the Lord,” I gently added— 
You can say it all, I know. 
44 Pray the Lord ”—the words came 
faintly; 
Fainter still. 44 My soul to keep”— 
Then the tired head fairly nodded, 
And the child was fast asleep. 
But the dewy eyes half opened. 
When I clasped her to ray breast: 
And the dear voice softly whispered— 
“Mamma, God knows all the rest.” 
Little Brown Hands. 
They drive the cows home from the pasture, 
Up through the long shady lane. 
Where the quail whistles loud in the wheat fields 
That are yellow with ripening grain. 
They find, in the thick waving grasses, 
Where the scarlet-lipped strawberry grows; 
They gather the earliest snow-drops, 
And’the first crimson buds of the rose. 
Those who toil bravely are strongest; 
The humble and poor become great; 
And from these brown-handed children 
Shall grow mighty rulers of State. 
The pen of the au hor and statesman— 
The noble and wise of the 1 ■ nd— 
The sword and the chisel and palette 
Shall be held in the little brown hand. 
c, 
