od upon her head!
"I wouldn't do that, dear," Mamma said.

MERRY MOSES

Merry, funny little Moses
Burnt off both his brothers' noses;
And it made them look so queer
Mamma said, "Why, Moses, dear!"

JOHNNY'S FUN

Johnny climbed up on the bed,
And hammered nails in Mamma's head.
Though the child was much elated,
Mamma felt quite irritated.

A MERRY GAME

Betty and Belinda Ames
Had the pleasantest of games;
'Twas to hide from one another
Marmaduke, their baby brother.

Once Belinda, little love,
Hid the baby in the stove;
Such a joke! for little Bet
Hasn't found the baby yet.

TOM AND GRANDPA

From his toes up to his shins
Tom stuck Grandpa full of pins;
Although Tom the fun enjoyed,
Grandpapa was quite annoyed.

BABY'S LOOKS

Bobby with the nursery shears
Cut off both the baby's ears;
At the baby, so unsightly,
Mamma raised her eyebrows slightly.

JEANETTE'S PRANKS

One night, Jeanette, a roguish little lass,
Sneaked in the guest room and turned on the gas;
When morning dawned the guest was dead in bed,
But "Children will be children," Mamma said.

A BALLADE OF PING-PONG

BY ALDEN CHARLES NOBLE

She wears a rosebud in her hair
To mock me as it tosses free;
Were I more wise and she less fair
I fear that I should never be
A victim to such witchery;
For at her wiles and lovely arts
I'm fain to laugh with her, while she
Plays ping-pong with my heart of hearts.

The play's the thing; I wonder where,
What courtier with what courtesy
First played it, with what lady fair,
To music of what minstrelsy?
I wonder did he seem to see
Such eyes wherein a sunbeam starts,
And did he love (as I) while she
Played ping-pong with his heart of hearts?

For battledore they called it, there
In courts of gilded chivalry;
No gallant ever lived to dare
To doubt its airy potency;
But now, that all the pageantry
Of those dead emperors departs,
I dream that she in memory
Plays ping-pong with my heart of hearts.

L'ENVOI

Ah, maiden, I must sail a sea
Whereof there are no maps or charts;
Wilt thou sail too, and there with me
Play ping-pong with my heart of hearts?

BUDGE AND TODDIE

BY JOHN HABBERTON

My Sunday dinner was unexceptional in point of quantity and quality, and
a bottle of my brother-in-law's claret proved