wly scratched his head.
"Well, I _am_--humph!--just so," he said.
"How very different the fact is
'Twixt the profession and the practice!"

HP

[Illustration: A Tale of a Tub. This full page illustrated poem shows
the man in the tub on the sea, dreaming of the roasted pig.]

A TALE OF A TUB

1

You may bring to mind I've sung you a song,
Of a man of Haarlem town.
I'll sing of another,--'t will not take long--,
Of equally great renown.

2

"I've read," said he, "there's a land afar,
O'er the boundless rolling sea,
Where fat little pigs ready roasted are:
Now, that is the land for me.

3

Where tarts may be plucked from the wild tart tree,
And puddings like pumpkins grow,
Where candies, like pebbles, lie by the sea,--
Now, thither I'll straightway go."

4

Now, what do you think I've heard it said
Was his boat, his oar, his sail?
A tub, a spoon, and a handkerchief red,
For to breast both calm and gale.

5

So he sailed away, for a livelong day;
And the sun was warm and mild,
And the small waves laughed as they seemed to play,
And the sea-gulls clamored wild.

6

So he sailed away, for a livelong day;
Till the wind began to roar,
And the waves rose high, and, to briefly say,
He never was heard of more.

H. PYLE.

[Illustration]

FARMER GRIGG'S BOGGART

Did you ever hear of a boggart? No! Then I will tell you. A boggart is a
small imp that lives in a man's house, unseen by any one, doing a little
good and much harm. This imp was called a boggart in the old times, now
we call such by other names--ill-temper, meanness, uncharitableness, and
the like. Even now, they say, you may find a boggart in some houses.
There is no placing reliance on a boggart; sometimes he may seem to be
of service to his master, but there is no telling when he may do him an
ill turn.

Rap! tap! tap! came a knock at the door.

The wind was piping Jack Frost's, for the time was winter, and it blew
from the north. The snow lay all over the ground, like soft feathers,
and the hay-ricks looked as though each one wore a dunce-cap, like the
dull boy in Dame Week's school over by the green. The icicles hung down
by the thatch, and the little birds crouched shivering in the bare and
leafless hedge-rows.

But inside the farm-house all was warm and pleasant; the great logs
snapped and crackled and roa