Yes forever, lover mine,
Shalt thou be my valentine.

{92}

_FEE-FI-FO-FUM_.

FEE-FI-FO-FUM,
From the Spruce-tree comes the gum;
From the Pine the turpentine,
Tar and pitch,
And timber which
Is very choice and fine.

Fee-fi-fo-fum,
How from Spruce-tree comes the gum?
Soft enough;--the sticky stuff,
From seam and cleft,
Both right and left,
Flows out, and hardens, rough.

{93}

Fay-fi-fo-fee,
Nut-galls grow on the Oak-tree;
By tiny worms the nut-gall forms,
Like little ball;
And from Nut-gall
The Gallic Acid comes.

Fee-fi-fo-fade,
From Nut-galls, too, the Tannin's made;
While Acorns grow in group or row;--
And Live-oak long,
Makes ship-knees, strong,
That round the world may go.

{94}

Fee-fi-fo-fap,
We tap the Maples, and the sap
We find as sweet as sugar-beet,
Then boiling hard,
Our sure reward,
The maple-sugar treat.

{95}

Fay-fi-fo-fee,
See the graceful White-Birch tree,
With bark so light, so tough and tight
That Indians wrought
Canoes we're taught,
And paddled out of sight.

{96}

Fee-fi-fo-fap,
Hark and hear the Hemlock snap;--
Little spine so full of wind,
Heated, hops,
And jumping, pops,
And makes the bright eyes shine.

Fee-fi-fo-fur,
See the curious chestnut-burr;
Green and round, then turning brown.
Frost opens wide
Each prickly side,
And out the chestnuts bound.

{97}

Fee-fi-fo-fay,
Now the farmer makes his hay;
Grasses grow, which workmen mow,--
Toss every-wise,
Till sunshine dries,
Then into stacks, they stow.

Fay-fee-fi-fo,
See the farmer wield his hoe,
Lettuce, greens, then corn and beans,
With pumpkin-vines
Along the lines,
Where many a weed o'er-leans.

{98}

Fee-fi-fo-fog,
See the wriggling pollywog,*--
With funny tail; but without fail
This pollywog
Will grow a frog,
And lose his wiggle-tail.

[Footnote: Pollywog--Common name for poll wig, or tadpole.]

Fee-fi-fo-faint,
Colors, seven, the Rainbow paint;
Violet bright is first in sight--
Then indigo,
Blue, green, yellow,
Orange and Red,--the seven, WHITE.

{99}

Fay-fee-fi-fo,
Now you ask, "What makes Rainbow?"
It is the sun, my darling one,
Shines through the rain,
O'er hill and plain,
But see, the beauty's flown.

Fay-