boat the breeze blows fair,
It blows across the deck;
It blows the little children's hair,--
They get it in the neck.

And in this picture you may see
The happy girls and boys,
So true to life,--but thankful be
You cannot hear the noise.

The great steam-whistle's fearful squeaks.
The band, ill-tuned and loud;
The babies with their screams and shrieks,
The bustle of the crowd.

Grown People, you'd prefer, afloat,
A private yacht, I'm sure;
Then shun the gay excursion boat
Unless you're very poor.

EVOLUTIONARY FAME

These merry children, I'll be bound
In careless pleasure ride around;
Unthinking as they onward go,
What pedigree their horses show.

But, Graybeard, you learned when a boy
About the Wooden Horse of Troy;
And you assume these steeds to be
The Trojan Sire's posterity.

Well, there you're wrong! you have forgot.
They're Flying Horses, are they not?
And, scions of a noble name,
From Pegasus descent they claim.

But, Graybeards, curb your mad desires
To mount upon these whizzing flyers.
For there's the very strongest chance
You'd go home in an ambulance.

PIETY

With new, ill-fitting gloves,
With frocks as white as snow,
By two and two these little loves
To First Communion go.

I watch them as they pass,--
Somehow, I shrewdly guess
Each child thinks little of her mass
And much about her dress.

But you, dear Aged Saint,
Whose eyeballs upward roll,
I trust you have no worldly taint
Upon your gentle soul.

WEALTH

Joe Munn who has a penny
Has friends and friends a-many;
They hang around him eagerly and offer him advice.
Tim Lanigan states clearly
That he loves taffy dearly
And butterscotch is awful good and chocolates is nice.

Jane said, but no one heard her,
"An orange would go furder,"
While Billy Barlow's heart beat high inside his chubby shape.
It needs no divination
To see the application,--
Until your purse is empty from your friends you can't escape.

THE SKIPPING-ROPE

This picture (as you