mes Henry Leigh Hunt._

BUGLE SONG.

The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying;
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes--dying, dying, dying!

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far, from cliff and scar,
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow! let us hear the purple glens replying;
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes--dying, dying, dying!

O love! they die in yon rich sky:
They faint on hill, or field or river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying;
And answer, echoes, answer--dying, dying, dying.

--_Tennyson._

LITTLE BOY BLUE.[7]

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said;
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys;
And as he was dreaming, an angel's song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue--
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.

--_Eugene Field._

[7] From "Love Songs of Childhood." Copyright, 1894, by
Eugene Field. Reprinted by permission of the publishers,
Chas. Scribner's Sons.

PITTYPAT AND TIPPYTOE.[8]

All day long they come and go--
Pittypat and Tippytoe;
Footprints up and down the hall;
Playthings scattered on the floor,
Finger marks along the wall,
Tell-tale smudges on the door;--
By these presents you shall know
Pittypat and Tippytoe.

How they riot at their play;