rk Before Play

"Mother has sent me to the well,
To fetch a jug of water,
And I am very glad to be
A useful little daughter;
That's why I cannot play
With you and Mary Ann to-day.

"Some afternoon I'll come with you,
And make you wreaths and posies;
I know a place where blue-bells grow,
And daisies and primroses;
But not to-day, for I must go
And help my mother, dears, you know.

"She says, that I am nearly eight,
So I can fill the kettle,
And sweep the room and clean the grate,
And even scrub a little;
Oh! I'm so very glad to be
A little useful girl, you see.

"So Johnny, do not ask to-day--
Perhaps I'll come to morrow;
But you'd not wish me now to stay,
And give my mother sorrow.
When she can spare me, she will say,
'Now, Susan, you may go and play.'"

[Illustration: Lucy Gray and Father.]

Lucy Gray

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray;
And, when I crossed the wild,
I managed to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,--
The sweetest thing that ever grew
Besides a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"To-night will be a stormy night--
You to the town must go;
And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother through the snow."

"That, father, will I gladly do!
'Tis scarcely afternoon--
The minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon."

At this the father raised his book
And snapped a faggot band;
He piled his work,--and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe;
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow,
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before it's time;
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb,
But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide,
But there was neither sound or sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor;
And thence they saw the bridge of wood
A furlong from their door.

And, turning homeward, now they cried
"In heaven we shall meet!"
When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downwards from the steep hill's