coming? then what will he do To find me sitting up here! Ho, ho! 'twas a mouse --how silly An' frightened I've actually been; For he'd say, "If you hold it quite still, You may take it, I'm willing, Corinne!" I know: so now I'll begin it; How does he go "tum-ty tum ting," An' make such beautiful tunes; Too lovely for anything? I ain't a bit 'fraid they may hear, --The house-people 'way off below-- Me playing in Brother Joe's room, Still I better be careful, you know. If they didn't say 'twas amusing, I sh'd think 'twas stupid to play, To tug at such tiresome strings An' make them come over this way; But it must be delightful. I'll pull A very fine tune at first; Now, "tum-ty ting tw-a-n-g!" It sound's as if something had burst! That string must 'a' truly been cracked, Don't you s'pose? or moth-eaten, p'raps; 'Tisn't pleasant to practice, I'm sure, But forlorn, when anything flaps. So I guess I have finished; hark, hark! He really IS coming--Oh my! Now, Banjo, I know mamma wants me, An' so I must bid you good-by! MARGARET SIDNEY. 

Mr. Bunny was a rabbit, Mr. Bunny was a thief! He hopped into my garden And stole a cabbage leaf. He ate up all my parsnips Without asking if he may, And when I tried to catch him Kicked up his heels and ran away. 

BARBARA FRIETCHIE. Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach-tree fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall, When Lee marched over the mountain-wallOver the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town--
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down:
In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat, left and right,
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
"Halt"--the dust-brown ranks stood fast,
"Fire!"--out blazed the rifle-blast.
It shivered the window, pane and sash;

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