The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamp-light, Descending the broad hall-stair, Grave Alice and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence; Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall! They climb up into my turret, O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me, They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses; Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old Mustache as I am Is not a match for you all? I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down in the dungeon, In the round-tower of my heart. And there I will keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in dust away. HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
I will dig me a garden and plant it with seeds, I will hoe and water it and keep down the weeds; Then perhaps some of these bright summer days, To mamma I can carry big boquets. CARYL'S PLUM.
"He put in his thumb And pulled out a plum."So sang Caryl over the stairs."Now if HE pulled out a plum, why shouldn't SHE?" she said to herself, halting a bit by the landing window.
"Oh, Aunt Sylvia, Aunt Sylvia!" She fairly hugged herself in glee, then drew one long breath and dashed on to her own poor little room.
"Oh, you here, Viny?" she exclaimed in surprise as she flung open the door. A small figure rose to a perpendicular position in front of the old bureau, while a shoving-to of the under drawer proclaimed some attention having been paid to the pretty laces, ribbons, and various other adornments packed away for safe keeping.
Caryl remembered leaving the key in the drawer after taking out a bit of lavender ribbon the night before for Aunt Sylvia's cap."What have you been doing?" she asked sharply; and taking hold of the small wiry shoulder, she looked down into a little black face whose eyes were staring solemnly into the farthest corner of the room.

"Ben doin'?" repeated Viny, scared almost to death inwardly, but preserving a cool exterior. "Nothin', only shettin' the draw'; plaguey thing wouldn't stay put. Tore my dress," she added mumblingly to fill out the pause.

"Where?" said Caryl, looking sharply at her.

"Dar," said Viny, with a violent twist, so that she could compass the back breadths 

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