Tim made a bound, and took with him the sash and every light,

And then he jumped a nine-rail fence, and down the road he spun,

And said, "Perhaps he thinks there's two, but darn me, there's but one!"

'Twas seven miles before he stopped and sat down on a log

To catch his breath and rest awhile from his nocturnal jog

And then he turned his head around, and right before his face

The figure stood, and said to him, "I think we've had a race!"

[Pg 17]

Tim tried to speak, and not a word he found to utter then,

But as he jumped from off his seat and broke away again,

He spluttered out, "I know we have, but think it's not quite done,

For you can bet right now's the time we'll have another one!"

Away Tim flew—he left the road, and through the woods and fields

The pace he set was wonderful, the ghost right at his heels!

And that old house is tenantless, and slowly rotting down,

Since that dread night Tim had his dream, and moved right back to town!

[Pg 18]

[Pg 18]

APPLE BLOSSOMS.

There's the rose and the lily, the daisy and pink,

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