five cents I'm sure we're paid."

Thus the three days passing by,
Which the Fair must occupy--
Dollars ten--ah, yes! and more,
Elzie holds within her store!
Dues for cage and tickets met,
And the _ten_ is Elzie's yet,--
Which unto the Fair she gave
With an air so joyful-grave,
That it seemed a spirit bright,
Nestled in her heart so light;--
And a happier child than she,
We may never hope to see.

{266}

_BESSIE'S KISSES._

Kisses, kisses, raining, raining,
On her lips, her cheeks, her brow,
Till she, wearied, "Daughter, darling,
Mamma's had enough for now."
"Ah! but Bessie has so many!"--
Naught the pretty prattler daunts;
Mamma pleading, baby shouting,
"Ah! but Bessie's more'n she wants."

{267}

_THE DINNER-POT._

The homeliest things are highest worth,
The dinner-pot's a treasure
Compared with diamonds, chains and rings,
Which serve alone for pleasure;--
Enwreathe the dinner-pot with flame,
And fill it with love's mixings,
And it possesses charms beyond
All gold or fancy fixings.

And then, our bony frame-work, too,
So stiff and hard and homely,
Will serve when plumpness all is gone,
And lost is all that's comely.
Fling beauty, grace and sweetness round,
Festoon your lives with flowers,
But ne'er forget that plainest things
Are life's most precious dowers.

{268}

_NANNY'S PLAY._

Our Nanny helped her mother
In many a childish way,--
She picked up chips to feed the fire,
And "played that it was play."

She loved the hens and chickens
And fed them day by day,
And dubbed them each with quaintest name,
And this was always play.

She hunted through the big barn
For hens' nests in the hay,
And fetched the eggs right carefully,
And this again was play.

She donned her mother's dust-cap
And danced about so gay,
And planned how she would house-keep,
And this was "truly play."

{269}

With basin full of water
She scrubbed the door one day,
And splashed about till mother dear
Must work instead of play.

{270}

With brush and broom a-sweeping
She fluttered like a fay;
The broken cup soon told her
'Twas anything but play.

{271}

She romped around the hay-field
And shook the new-mown hay,
And with her baby-rake she gleaned
The meadow for her play.

She ran to pick the berri