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And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you say you can merd it with glue!

As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just suppose it was

you!

You might make her look all mended; but what do I care for looks? Why, glue's for chairs and tables and toys, and the backs of books!

My dolly! my own little daughter! O, but it's the awfulest crack! It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her poor head went whack

Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the little shelf! Now, nursey, what makes you remind me? I know that I did it myself!

I think you must be crazy! You'll get her another head!

What good would forty heads do her? I tell you my dolly is dead! And to think I hadn't quite finish'd her elegant new spring hat! And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie on that horrid cat!

When my mamma gave me that ribbon, — I was playing out in the

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She said to me most expressly, "Here's a ribbon for Hildegarde." And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde saw me do it; But I said to myself, "O, never mind; I don't believe she knew it."

But I know that she knew it now; and I just believe, I do,
That her poor little heart was broken, and so her head broke too.
O, my baby! my little baby! I wish my head had been hit!
For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't crack'd a bit!

But, since the darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of course. We will take my little wagon, nurse; and you shall be the horse; And I'll walk behind, and cry; and we'll put her in this, you see, This dear little box, and we'll bury her then under the mapletree.

And

рара will make me a tombstone like the one he made for my
bird;

And he'll put what I tell him on it; yes, every single word.
I shall say,
"Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, who is dead;
She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her head."

AN EVENING WITH HELEN'S BABIES.

J. HABBERTON.

WITH a head full of pleasing fancies, I went down to supper. My new friends, Helen's babies, were unusually good. There were two of them. Budge, the elder, was five years of age, and Toddie had seen but three Summers. Their ride seemed to have toned down their boisterousness and elevated their little souls; their appetites exhibited no diminution of force; but they talked but little, and all that they said was smart, funny, or startling, so much so that when, after supper, they invited me to put them to bed, I gladly accepted the invitation. Toddie disappeared somewhere, and came back very disconsolate.

"Can't find my dolly's k'adle," he whined.

"Never mind, old pet," said I, soothingly. "Uncle will ride you on his foot."

But I want my dolly's k'adle," said he, piteously rolling out his lower lip.

I remembered my experience when Toddie wanted to "shee wheels go wound," and I trembled.

"Toddie," said I, in a tone so persuasive that it would be worth thousands a-year to me, as a salesman, if I could only command it at will; "Toddie, don't you want to ride. on uncle's back?"

"No; want my dolly's k'adle."

"Don't you want me to tell you a story?"

For a moment Toddie's face indicated a terrible internal conflict between old Adam and mother Eve, but curiosity finally overpowered natural depravity, and Toddie murmured,

"Yesh."

"What shall I tell you about?"

"'Bout Nawndeark."

"About what?"

"He means Noah an' the ark," exclaimed Budge.

"Datsh what I shay, — Nawndeark," declared Toddie.

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"Well," said I, hastily refreshing my memory by picking up the Bible, for Helen, like most people, is pretty sure to forget to pack her Bible when she runs away from home for a few days, "well, once it rained forty days and nights, and everybody was drowned from the face of the Earth excepting Noah, a righteous man who was saved with all his family, in an ark which the Lord commanded him to build."

"Uncle Harry," said Budge, after contemplating me with open eyes and mouth for at least two minutes after I had finished, "do you think that's Noah?"

66

Certainly, Budge; here's the whole story in the Bible." "Well, I don't think it's Noah one single bit," said he, with increasing emphasis.

"I'm beginning to think we read different Bibles, Budge; but let's hear your version."

"Huh?"

"Tell me about Noah, if you know so much about him.” "I will, if you want me to. Once the Lord felt so uncomfortable cos folks was bad that he was sorry he ever made anybody, or any world, or any thing. But Noah wasn't bad; the Lord liked him first-rate; so he told Noah to build a big ark, and then the Lord would make it rain so everybody should be drownded but Noah an' his little boys an' girls, an' doggies an' pussies, an' mamma-cows, an' little-boycows an' little-girl-cows, an' hosses, an' every thing; they'd go in the ark, an' wouldn't get wetted a bit when it rained. An' Noah took lots of things to eat in the ark; cookies, an' milk, an' oatmeal, an' strawberries, an' porgies, an' -0. yes an' plum-puddins, an' pumpkin-pies. But Noah didn't want everybody to get drownded, so he talked to folks, an' said, 'It's goin to rain awful pretty soon; you'd better be good, an' then the Lord'll let you come into my ark.' An' they jus' said, 'O, if it rains we'll go in the house till it stops; an' other folks said, 'We ain't afraid of rain; we've got an umbrella.' An' some more said, they wasn't goin' to be afraid of just a rain. But it did rain though, an' folks

went in their houses, an' the water came in, an' they went up stairs, an' the water came up there, an' they got on the tops of the houses, an' up in big trees, an' up in mountains, an' the water went after 'em everywhere an' drownded everybody, only just except Noah and the people in the ark. An' it rained forty days an' nights, an' then it stopped; an’ Noah got out of the ark, an' he an' his little boys an' girls went wherever they wanted to, and every thing in the world was all theirs; there wasn't anybody to tell 'em to go home, nor no Kindergarten schools to go to, nor no bad boys to fight 'em, nor nothin'. Now tell us 'nother story.”

KATIE LEE AND WILLIE GREY.
MISS JOSIE R. HUNT.

Two brown heads with tossing curls,
Red lips shutting over pearls,

Bare feet, white and wet with dew,
Two eyes black, and two eyes blue;
Little girl and boy were they,
Katie Lee and Willie Grey.

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She, with arms like wreaths of snow,
Swung a basket to and fro
As she loiter'd, half in play,
Chattering to Willie Grey.

"Pretty Katie," Willie said, And there came a dash of red

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Through the brownness of his cheek,Boys are strong and girls are weak, And I'll carry, so I will,

Katie's basket up the hill."

Katie answer'd with a laugh,
"You shall carry only half";
And then, tossing back her curls,
66 Boys are weak as well as girls.”
Do you think that Katie guess'd
Half the wisdom she express'd?

Men are only boys grown tall;
Hearts don't change much after all;
And when, long years from that day,
Katie Lee and Willie Grey

Stood again beside the brook,
Bending like a shepherd's crook,-

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