others reaching down so far;
I'm very sure you have not tried
At all to-day to please mamma.

The little girl who will not sew
Should never be allowed to play;
But then I hope, my love, that you
Will take more pains another day.

Lazy Sal

A lazy, lazy, lazy girl!
Her hair forever out of curl,
Her feet unshod, her hands unclean,
Her dress in tatters always seen.

Lounging here and dawdling there,
Lying out 'most anywhere
About the barn-yard. Not a thought
Of studying lessons as she ought;

But happiest when in sunny weather
She and "the other pig" together
Are playing tricks. No wonder, then,
The farmer, jolliest of men,

Is apt to say, when tired out
With seeing her sprawling round about,
"Beats all what ails that lazy gal!
Why, piggy's twice as smart as Sal!"

The Work-bag

To Jane her aunt a work-bag gave,
Of silk with flowers so gay,
That she a place might always have
To put her work away.

And then 'twas furnished quite complete
With cotton, silk and thread,
And needless in a case so neat,
Of all the sizes made.

A little silver thimble, too,
Was there among the rest;
And a large waxen doll, quite new,
That waited to be dress'd.

But Jane was very fond of play,
And loved to toss her ball;
An I am quite ashamed to say,
She scarcely worked at all.

But if at any time she did,
'Twas but a stitch or two;
And though she often has been bid,
But little more would do.

The pretty little bag, indeed,
Was hung upon her chair;
But cotton, needles, silk, and thread
Were scattered here and there.

Her aunt, by chance, came in that day,
And asked if the doll was dress'd;
Miss Jane has been engaged in play,
And careless of the rest.

The silk, to make her little dress,
Was on the table laid,
And, with an equal carelessness,
The cap had also strayed.

With gauze and lace the floor was strewed,
All in disorder lay,
When, bounding in with gesture rude,
Came Jane, returned from play.

She little thought her aunt to find,
And blushed to see her there;
It brought her carelessness to mind,
And what her doll should wear.

"Well, Jane, and where's your doll, my dear?
I hope you've dress'd her now;
But there is such a litter here,
You best know when and how."

So spoke her aunt, and, looking round