ould drop a mournful head
To see your little pies lie dead!"
"My dears," she said, and kissed their bills,
"The wise by foresight baffle ills,
A wise descent you claim;
To bang a gun off takes some time,--
A man must load, a man must prime,
A man must take an aim--
He lifts the tube, he shuts one eye,--
'Twill then be time enough to fly;
You, out of reach, may laugh and chatter:
To cheat a man is no great matter."
"Ay, but"--"But what?" "Why, if the clown
Should take a stone to knock us down?"
"Why, if he do--you flats!
Must he not stoop to raise the stone?
The stooping warns you to be gone;
Birds are not killed like cats."
"But, dear mamma, we yet are scared,
The rogue, you know, may come prepared
A big stone in his fist!"
"Indeed, my darlings," Madge replies,
"If you already are so wise:
Go, cater where you list."

THE THREE WARNINGS:

MRS. THRALE.

The tree of deepest root is bound
With most tenacity to earth;
'Twas therefore thought by ancient sages,
That with the ills of life's last stages
The love of life increased, with dearth
Of fibres rooting it to ground.
It was young Dobson's wedding-day,
Death summoned him, the happy groom,
Into a sombre private room,
From marriage revelries away;
And, looking very grave, said he:
"Young Dobson, you must go with me."
"Not if I know it," Dobson cried;
"What! leave my Susan,--quit my bride?
I shan't do any such a thing:
Besides I'm not at all prepared,--
My thoughts are all upon the wing.
I'm not the fellow to be scared,
Old Death, by you and those pale awnings:
I have a right to my three warnings."
And Death, who saw that of the jobs on
His hand, just then, tough was this Dobson,
Agreed to go and come again;
So, as he re-adjusted awnings
About his brows, agreed three warnings
Should be allowed; and Dobson, fain
To go back to the feast, agreed
Next time to do as was decreed:
And so they parted, with by-byes,
And "humble servants," "sirs," and "I's."
And years ran by right cheerily:
Susan was good, and children three,--
All comforts of his days--they reared;
So Dobson tumbled, unawares,
Upon the bourn of fourscore years,
And Death then reappeared--
And Dobson