't whack things round, and scream, when the flowers bloom in the
spring."

He was to be repressed immediately. Sirena looked at her mother.

"He wants to be funny, Sirena," said her mother, soothingly.

"Then he isn't funny; he's never funny," said Sirena, drawing herself
up with dignity.

"Totty Belmont says you're the teasenest, hatefulest boy she knows! So
there," remarked Sirena.

"Oh, ho! I don't wonder the doll is scared. Why don't you treat that
pretty creature with some consideration? Dragging her over the carpet,
and spoiling her pretty dress! Now you'll see, just as soon as she
comes to me, because I'm good-looking and nice, she'll put her eyes
down and smile at me as lovely as ever."

He took the doll and jumped it up and down in the air, dancing about
and singing, "Tra-la."

As sure as the world! Down came the eyes, and Adalina was her charming
self again.

"Now you see," said Rob, "if you want people to be good to you and
love you, you must not be rude and ill-natured yourself. This doll is
French, and particular, and she just won't look at cross little girls;
so there!"

"I think," said her mamma, "that Sirena will not get so angry with her
doll again. She looks as if she were ashamed of it now. However
disagreeable we may think people are, it's best to watch ourselves,
lest in finding fault with them, we fall into the same errors."

[Illustration: SIRENA.]

LADY VIOLET.

My little love, with soft, brown eyes,
Looks shyly back at me,
Beneath the drooping apple bough,
She thinks I do not see.
I cannot choose, I laugh with her,
I catch her merry glee;
Or stay you near, or go you far,
Oh, little love, how sweet you are!

A hue, like light within a rose,
Is dimpling on her cheek,
It wins a grace, it deepens now
With every airy freak;
A love-light in the rose like this,
Ah, you may vainly seek;
It shines for me, no shadows mar,
Oh, little love, how fair you are!

My heart clings to her pretty words,
They will not be forgot;
My happy brain will not discern,
If they be wise or not.
To ever be so charmed, so blessed,
Ah, this were happy lot.
My own, shine ever like a star
Upon my life, so true you are.

[Illustration: PAPA'S PETS.]

ON TRIAL.

Little Hal Keys was pretty sure to throw a stone at every pussy cat he
saw, and so all the cats around us