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PRYING MARY.
BY KATHARINE PYLE.
[Illustration]
Oh, curious, prying Mary,
Why was it you would try
To peep in every bundle,
In every box to pry?
Mamma had often warned her,
But still she pried about,
And nothing could be hidden
But Mary found it out.
[Illustration]
It chanced mamma from shopping
Brought in some things one day.
"Pray do not touch them, Mary," she said,
"While I'm away."
But scarce mamma had left her,
She scarce had closed the door,
Ere Mary stole on tiptoes
With haste across the floor.
[Illustration]
She tears the paper open,
And stoops with eager eyes.
Puff! In her mouth and up her nose
The biting pepper flies.
"Hatchew! hatchew!" she sneezes;
The tears stream from her eyes.
"Who would have thought the bundle
Was pepper!" Mary cries.
[Illustration]
"Hatchew! hatchew!" she sneezes,
The tears drip from her chin,
And while she still is sneezing
Mamma comes softly in.
She lifts her hands in wonder,
And Mary hears her cry,
"Some ill-luck always happens
To children who will pry."
A PROMOTION.
"How are you getting on with your music lessons, Harold?"
"Bin promoted."
"Indeed?"
"Yeth; I play three-finger exercises now, 'stead o' two."
EXACTLY IT.
"Well, Jack, I suppose you keep your desk in apple-pie order."
"Yes. That's just about it: everything's all tumbled up together insid
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