LITILE FOLKS' COLUMN.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, 3 December 1887, Page 3

LITILE FOLKS' COLUMN.

L. H. OOTRAM.

DON'T FIGHT. Don't fight ! don't flght ! There, Fred and Tom, Of words you've had enough ; Tom, take his hand before he rocs Off in that silly huff. You'll pay him out, you say. No, Fred, Here let the matter end ; You shall not go until you've said Once more you are his friend. Come, come ! a little while ago How blithe you were at play ! , Until a silly word drove all — Your merriment away. And, Brother Tom, for you it -«a3 Who flr3t the friendship broke, Tell Fred that you are sorry for The angry word you spoke. And learn to curb your hasty tongue, For often I have heard How misery and guilt have sprung Out of an angry word. To dreadful strife words often grow, And strife, time after time, Has led in one quick angry blow To murder's av> ful crime. You're sorry, and you 11 make it up, Now that is very right ; You cannot tell how grieved I am To see my brothers light. Now, Fred ! don't turn away, as though You didn't understand, You know as well as I that Tom Is holding out his hand. Take it !— that's right! Oh, Tom and Fred, How glad I am ! the pain Your quarrel caused has flown away, Let's go and play again.

Why are our nose and chin always at vari. ance ? Because words are continually passing- between them. In a Hebrew school. — " What crime did Joseph's brethren commit in selling him ?" All the pupils in : " They sold him too cheap." Spread of Education — A correspondent sends the following, which he saw in a shop window: "A bakers Patent Mangel for Sail, and 2 B Sold Enqnyre at number — , — Sfcrefce, Sumers IWnc. A Desided Bargen." " What avo you doing now, Thomas ?" asked the minister patronisingly. "I am a writer for the press," said the lad, proudly. •' Indeed, you are quite young for that; what do you Avrifce?" "I direct wrappers." i Some amusing atones of Macaulay's childhood are related in the biography by Trevelyan. For example, we learn that on one occasion his father took the boy on a visit to Lady Waldegrave at Strawberry Hill, After some time had been spent among the wonders of the Oxford collection a servant who was waiting upon the company in the great gallery spilt some hot coffee over his legs. The hostess was all kindness and compassion, and when, after a while, she asked how he was feeling, the little fellow looked up in her face and replied, "Thank you, madam, the agony is abated."