LINES FOR LITTLE FOLK.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXI, Issue 43, 23 February 1894, Page 15

LINES FOR LITTLE FOLK.

(By Cctavb Thanet in McCluret Magazine.)

The Wilds lived in a two-roomed log cabin in the great gum woods, only two miles from a railway village, they rented their land, paying rant in the corn and cotton of their raising. They owned ten pigs and a cow, and Mr Ormond, their landlord, allowed them the use of a pair of mules. Fuel is to be had for the gathering in the forest, while frnit and vegetables grow almost of their own motion in Arkansas. Bat their was little enough money kept in the widow's old stocking— purse she had none— aDd, when the cold Christmas rains came.Luciua could not go to school foi lack of a warm jacket Claude could not go, anyhow, because he must " mind Baby Sister." Bomttimes this was no easy task ; Baby Bißter taking perverse and trying notions into her head, and being a stubborn child. On the very day of the plum cake there was Claude to be seen trudging along with EvangeJine's red sun-bonnet fhunting above his own ragged cap. " 'Bligt d to wear two hats," says Clande, " 'cause Baby Sister •will never wear hers." He tnya it to Colonel Ormond. Colonel Ormond reins in his horse ; he is ridiDg home from the store, and, I daresay, that bis bag alnng over his saddle-boro holds something to help make Christmas merry. " Mymy 1 mymy 1 " exclaims the good-natured mas, " you'll ca'ch cold and have pneumonia, sure 1 Here "—he fishes a bjown paper parcel ent of his " saddle riders "— " I bought some nice cakes with raisins in for my youngsters. Put your hat right on like a good little girl, and there's one for you. Here's yours, Bud." The bribe was successful. Baby Sister allowed Claude to tie her bonnet as she munched her cake ; but she wonld'nt say " thank you,'' although Claude prompted her. " What do you say, Baby Sister ? " And she wouldn't say, " I wish you well, sir," like a polite little Arkansas child, when Colonel Ormond rode away. Not she : she sat down in the cold mud, naughty, rude little Baby Sister, and devoured her plum cake. " You isn't to Bet on the ground, Baby Sister," said Claude, pulling at her arms. " Maw eaid you mustn't 1 You'll be sure chillin' ! " " Yill set on the ground," remarked Baby Siater, calmly. Baby Sister was a determined character. She was also fat. Claude knew from experience that he could not carry her half a mile. " And if I slap her she'll lay down flat and bellei ! ' thought he. Therefore, this wise little lad tried diplomacy. " Say, Baby Sister," said he in toneß of silken softness, " lesß we all go look at the circus 1 " Baby Sister came up like a boanciDg ball, and smiled like a cherub. "Me good now," lisped she.

The Spectator publishes the following letter from a schoolboy to bis mother. We do not recommend our little folk to take it as a pattern :~- " I hope Matilda's cold is bptter. lam glad she is not at Echule. i think i have got consumption. The boya at this place are not gentltmanly, but of course you did not know this when you pent me here. The trowsers have worn out at the knees. I think the tailor must have cheated yon, the buttons have come off and they are loose behind, i don't think the food is good, but i should not mind if i was strorjger. The piece of meat i send you is off the beef we had on Sunday, but on other days it is more stringy. There are black beadles in the kitchen, and sometimes they cook them in the dinner, which can't be holesome when you are not strong. ... do not mind my being so uncomfortable because i do not think i shall last long. Please send me some more money as i o 81. if you cannot spare it i can borrow it of a boy who is going to leave at the half quarter, but p:rhapg you wd. not like to be under an obligation to his parents as they are tradespeople. I think you deal at their shop Yr. loving but retched son."

A city boy to the country gone Ib like a fish on land, — So many things in the fields and woods That he dosen't understand. Last week our Edward — a man ot fireWas out at his uncle's farm, Where the beasts and the birds, the plaits and the weeds, Had for him a novel charm. One day at dinner his uncle said : " What's the matter with Daisy now— This milk's as blue ard tastes as poor As if it was watered, I vow," Then up Bpoke Edward : I know what it is ; For before she waß milked by Frank, She stopped in the creek, on her way to the barn, And diank, and drank, and drank!" —Aye Maria, L. W. Reilly.