Who'll come and play with me hero under the tree? My sisters have left me alone.

My sweet little sparrow come hither to me,

And play with me while they are gone.

Oh no, little lady, I can't come indeed,
I've no time to idle away,

I've got all my dear little children to feed,
And my nest to new cover with hay.

Pretty bee, do not buzz about over that flower,
But come here and play with me, c
The sparrow won't come and stay w
But say pretty bee-will not you ?

O no, little lady, for do you not see,

me an hour,

Those must work who would prosper and thrive?
If I play they would call me a sad idle bee,
And perhaps turn me out of the hive.

Stop! stop! little ant, do not run off so fast,
Wait with me a little and play;
ope I shall find a companion at last,
ou are not quite so busy as they.

O no, little lady, I can't stay with you,
We're not made to play, but to labor;"
I always have something or other to do,
If not for myself, for my neighbor.

What then, have they all some employment but me,
Who lie lounging here like a dunce?

O then, like the ant, and the sparrow and bee
I'll go to my lesson at once.

THE SILLY LAMB.

Charles, you must not go out into the fields by yourself, nor without leave. You are a very little boy; and if you were to venture out by yourself, you would be lost; then you would cry, and night would come, and it would be so dark that you could not find your way home, and you would have no bed; you would have to lie down on the cold, wet grass, and perhaps you would die, and that would be a sad story to tell.

I will tell you a story about a little lamb. There was once a shepherd, who had a great many sheep and lambs. He took a great deal of care of them, and gave them fresh grass to eat, and clear water to drink, and drove them every day into a fine large green pasture.

If they were sick, he was very good to them; and when they climbed up a steep hill, and the little lambs were tired, he used to carry them in his arms; and when they were all eating their suppers in the field, he used to sit upon a stone under the tree, and play them a tune on his flute, and sing. to them; and so they were the happiest sheep and lambs in the world.

But every night, when it grew dark and cold, the shepherd called all his flock, sheep and lambs together, into the sheep-fold or yard, and penned them up; and there they lay, as snug, and warm, and comfortable, as could be; and nothing could get in and hurt them; and the dogs lay round on the outside to guard them, and to bark if any body came near; and in the morning the shepherd unpenned the fold, and let them all out again.

Now they were all very happy, as I said before, and love the shepherd dearly, that was so good to them; all excep one foolish little lamb. This little lamb did not like to b