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SONGS FOE CHILDHOOD.
THE FATHER'S PRAYER FOR HIS SICK CHILD.
Send down thy winged angel, God !
Amidst this night so wild ; And bid him come where now we watch,
And breathe upon our child!
She lies upon her pillow, pale,
And moans within her sleep, Or wakeneth with a patient smile,
And striveth not to weep!
How gentle and how good a child
She is, we know too well, And dearer to her parents' hearts
Than our weak words can tell.
We love�we watch throughout the night,
To aid, when need may be ; We hope�and have despaired at times;
But now we turn to thee!
Send down thy sweet-souled angel, God!
Amidst the darkness mild, And bid him soothe our souls to-night,
And heal our gentle child!
Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy, " O gorging Jim, what a fool you be!
" There's little Bill is young and tender; We're old and tough, so let's eat he.
" O Bill, we're going to kill and eat you, So undo the collar of your chemie."
Wheu Bill received this information, He used his pocket-haudkerchie.
" Oh, let me say my catechism,
As my poor mammy taught to me."
" Make haste, make haste," says guzzling Jacky, While Jim pulled out his snickersnee.
So Bill went up to the maintop-gallant mast, Where down he fell on his bended kuee.
He scarce had come to the Twelfth Commandment, When up he jumps : " There's land, I see.
" There's Jerusalem and Madagascar, And North and South Amerikee.
" There's the British fleet a-riding at anchor, With Admiral Nelson, K.C.B."
So when they came to the Admiral's vessel, He hanged fat Jack and flogged Jimmee.
But as for little Bill, he made him The captain of a seventy-three.
William Makepeace Thackeray.
There were three sailors in Bristol city, Who took a boat and went to sea;
But first with beef and captain's biscuit And pickled pork they loaded she.
There was guzzling Jack and gorging Jimmy, And the youngest he was little Billee.
Now very soon they were so greedy, They didn't leave not one split pea.
Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy, " I am extremely hungaree."
Says gorging Jim to guzzling Jacky,
" We have no provisions, so we must eat we."
THE AFTERNOON NAP. Charles G. Eastman.
The farmer sat in his easy-chair,
Smoking his pipe of clay, While his hale old wife, with busy care,
Was clearing the dinner away; A sweet little girl, with fine blue eyes. On her grandfather's knee was catching flies.
The old man laid his hand on her head, With a tear on his wrinkled face ;
He thought how often her mother, dead, Had sat in the self-same place ;