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. 
L/ong 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. 
t 
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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