her!"

--_M. M. Dodge._

HOW THE WOODPECKER KNOWS.

How does he know where to dig his hole,
The woodpecker there on the elm tree hole?
How does he know what kind of a limb
To use for a drum, and to burrow in?
How does he find where the young grubs grow--
I'd like to know?

The woodpecker flew to a maple limb,
And drummed a tattoo that was fun for him,
"No breakfast here! It's too hard for that."
He said, as down on his tail he sat,
"Just listen to this: rrrr rat-rat-tat."

Do you know when you wound any dear little bird,
Or take from its home-nest another,
That the cries of their anguish in heaven are heard,
That God pities those birds and their mother?

Do you know the same God made the birds and the boys,
And both for the very same reason,
That each life should be bright with its homes and its joys,
For each in its measure and season?

Do you know if you hark to the song in the air,
So sweet in the freshness of morning,
That the birds seem to sing, "We will trust to your care
To keep us from danger and mourning?"

Do you, if you'd listen with soul and with heart,
You never would ruffle a feather
Of the dear little birds that make our glad world a part,
For all are God's children together?

THE BOY'S PROTEST.

When a fellow knows every bird's nest
In the fields for miles around,
Where the squirrels play in the sunshine,
Where the prettiest flowers are found;
When he knows a pair of robins
That will fly to his hands for crumbs,
He hates to be penned in a school-room,
And he's glad when Saturday comes.

There's a bee-tree on the hillside,
But I'll not tell any one where;
There's a school of trout in the mill-stream,
And I want to go fishing there.

I know where an oriole's building,
And a log where a partridge drums,
And I'm going to the woods to see them,
As soon as Saturday comes.

They shouldn't keep school in the springtime,
When the world is so fresh and bright,
When you want to be fishing and climbing,
And playing from morn till night.
It's a shame to be kept in the school-room,
Writing and working out sums;
All week it's like being in prison,
And I'm glad when Saturday com