Oh! doesn't it make you all shudder to look
At their likenesses even, all here in a book?--
Rinaldo the fierce, and Grimaldi the grim,
And that young, nameless bandit, so bold and so trim.

But if you should meet with this terrible band,
Now don't run away, but come quick to a stand:
Be humble and quiet, and don't act amiss,
And all that they'll rob you of, will be--a kiss!

IDA FAY.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

DAISY.

A FRIEND of mine, Mr. S., had a beautiful colt named Daisy, who was the
pet of all the family. She was so tame she would put her head in at the
open windows to see what was going on in the house; and very often, when
she saw the front-door open, she would go up the steps of the piazza,
and deliberately march into the hall. No one ever struck Daisy with a
whip, or even a switch. A little slap of the hand, and a "Go out,
Daisy," were all that were necessary.

Mrs. S. had a new cook; and one day she set a pan of custard on the
back-porch to cool. When she went out to get it, an hour or two after,
she found nothing but the empty pan. Molly ran to Mrs. S. in great
distress, and told her of the loss of the custard. "Ah!" said Mrs. S.,
"then Daisy has eaten it." And, sure enough, Daisy was the thief.

Another time the naughty colt put her head in the kitchen-window, and
ate up some apple-pies that were on the table. All this was very bad
indeed, but Daisy was always forgiven because she was so lovely and
gentle. She would follow any of the family about the grounds, and rub
her head against them to show how much she loved them.

One day a man came to Mr. S.'s house to make a visit. He was not in the
habit of visiting the family, and so had not made Daisy's acquaintance.
After tea, Mr. S. and his visitor were standing on the piazza, when
Daisy came trotting up, as she always did when she saw one of the family
there, and opened her mouth, expecting Mr. S. to put a piece of bread or
apple in. The stranger did not understand this little trick, and (coarse
man that he was!) spat a quantity of tobacco-juice into Daisy's face.
Poor little Daisy! She hung her head down, and walked off under the
trees, where she stood looking very miserable.

The next morning Mr. S. asked his visitor to walk with him through his
grounds; and, as they were walking along, they passed a