e is no empty show;
The simple neighbours see their loss,
And there is heart-felt woe.
They talk of the bright and lively lad,
Cut down in boyish prime,
And old folks think how strange is life,
More strange with passing time!

Oh! simple sight on green hill-side,
Away from pomp and power;
Here are the truths so oft denied
To the imperial hour.
Dear child, how precious are the tears,
Suffusing friendly eyes!
Sublimity is in their gleam,
A light from God's own skies.

[Illustration: Naughty Mice Teasing the Poor Kitten.]

[Page 83--Play Land]

[Illustration: Chinese Toy Merchant.]

In the Toy Shop

Cups and saucers, pots and pans,
China figures, Chinese fans,
Railway trains, with tops and tables,
Fairy tales, and Aesop's fables.

Clockwork mice, and colored marbles,
Painted bird that sweetly warbles,
Dolls of every age and size,
With flaxen curls and moving eyes.

Cows and horses, chickens, cats,
Rattles, windmills, boats and bats,
Ducks and geese, and golden fishes,
Skipping ropes, and copper dishes.

Books with coloured pictures, too,
And a thousand other things for you;
Dainty maidens, merry boys,
Here you are, all sorts of toys.

Neat Little Clara

"Little Clara, come away,
Little Clara, come and play;
Leave your work, Maria's here,
So come and play with me, my dear."

"I will come, and very soon,
For I always play at noon;
But must put my work away,
Ere with you I come and play.

First my bodkin I must place
With my needles in their case;
I like to put them by with care,
And then I always find them there.

There's my cotton, there's my thread
Thimble in its little bed;
All is safe--my box I lock,
Now I come--'tis twelve o'clock."

Playing Store

"Ting-a-ling!" Now they
Have opened the store,
Never was such
An assortment before;
Mud pies in plenty,
And parcels of sand,
Pebbles for sugar plums,
Always on hand.

Plenty of customers
Coming to buy,
"Brown sugar, white sugar
Which will you try?
Paper for money;
Their wealth, too, is vast;
In spite of the plenty,
They scatter it fast.

Quick little hands
Tie bundles with care,
Summer's glad music
Is filling the air;
Birdies fly over,
And wonder, no doubt,
What all these gay
little folks are about.

[Illustration: Our Shop.