put his head under his wing and gone
to sleep? What does that mean? It means "Good night, Jamie." Now come,
let us have "Cr-e-e-p, cr-e-e-p, cr-e-e-p!" And two fingers go slowly,
measuring Jamie from toe to neck, and Jamie cringes and squirms and
finally screams outright, and almost flings himself upon the floor; but,
as soon as his spasm is over, begs again, "Say, 'K-e-e-p, k-e-e-p,
k-e-e-p!'" and would keep it going longer than I have time to wait.

In this very passion for reiteration may be found a sufficient answer to
those uneasy persons who are perpetually attempting to bring new
singing-books into our churches, on pretext that people are tired of the
old tunes. You never hear from Jamie's pure taste any clamor for new
songs or stories. Whenever he climbs up into your lap to be amused, he
is sure to ask for the story of "Kitty in Ga'et Window," though he knows
it as Boston people know oratorio music, and detects and condemns the
slightest departure from the text. And when you have gone through the
drama, with all its motions and mewings, he wants nothing so much as
"Kitty in Ga'et Window 'gen." Let us keep the old tunes. It is but a
factitious need that would change them.

Gentle and friendly reader, I pray your pardon for this childish record.
Some things I say of set purpose for your good, and the more you do not
like them, the more I know they are the very things you need; and I
shall continue to deal them out to you from time to time, as you are
able to bear them. But this broken, rambling child-talk--with "a few
practical reflections, arising naturally from my subject," as the
preachers say--was penned only for your pleasure--and mine; and if you
do not like it, I shall be very sorry, and wish I had never written it.
For we might have gone away by ourselves and enjoyed it all
alone;--could we not, Jamie, you and I together? Oh, no, no! Never
again! Never, never again! for the mountains that rise and the prairies
that roll between us. Ah! well, Jamie, I shall not cry about it. If you
had stayed here, it would have been but a little while before you would
have grown up into a big boy, and then a young fellow, and then a man,
and been of no account. So what does it signify? Good night, little
Jamie! good night, darling! Do I hear a sleepy echo, as of old, wavering
out of the West, "_Goo-i-dah-ing_"?

THE SLEEPER.

I.

The glen was fair as some Arcadian dell,
All shadow, coo