what all have to expect, Who, fighting small troubles, great duties neglect. H. Pyle

With his Court one summer day.

For to shade him on the way.

Twirled his legs upon the same.

Slap! he struck, but missed his aim.

To our august nose!" he said.

Until every fly is dead!!!!"

His attention went to pot.

Out vexation thus, I wot.

H. Pyle

PRIDE IN DISTRESS

Mistress Polly Poppenjay Went to take a walk one day. On that morning she was dressed In her very Sunday best; Feathers, frills and ribbons gay,—      Proud was Mistress Poppenjay. Mistress Polly Poppenjay Spoke to no one on her way; Passed acquaintances aside; Held her head aloft with pride; Did not see a puddle lay In front of Mistress Poppenjay. Mistress Polly Poppenjay Harked to naught the folk could say. Loud they cried, "Beware the puddle!" Plump! She stepped into the middle. And a pretty plight straightway Was poor Mistress Poppenjay.       Mistress Polly Poppenjay; From your pickle others may Learn to curb their pride a little;—      Learn to exercise their wit, till They are sure no puddles may Lie in front, Miss Poppenjay. Howard Pyle

Howard Pyle

PROFESSION & PRACTICE

Once, when Saint Swithin chanced to be A-wandering in Hungary, He, being hungered, cast around To see if something might be found To stay his stomach. Near by stood A little house, beside a wood, Where dwelt a worthy man, but poor. Thither he went, knocked at the 

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