mid be the tracks
O' things wi' witches on their backs,
Or what, they coulden think.

At last friend Dan come up, an' brought
His wit to help their dizzy thought,
An' looken on an' off the ea'th,
He cried, a-drawen a vull breath,
Why, I do know; what, can't ye zee 't?
I'll bet a shillen 'twer a deer
Broke out o' park, an' sprung on here,
Wi' quoits upon his veet.

TURNEN THINGS OFF.

Upzides wi' Polly! no, he'd vind
That Poll would soon leaeve him behind.
To turn things off! oh! she's too quick
To be a-caught by ev'ry trick.
Woone day our Jimmy stole down steaeirs
On merry Polly unaweaeres,
The while her nimble tongue did run
A-tellen, all alive wi' fun,
To sister Anne, how Simon Heaere
Did hanker after her at feaeir.
"He left," cried Polly, "cousin Jeaene,
An' kept wi' us all down the leaene,
An' which way ever we did leaed
He vollow'd over hill an' meaed;
An' wi' his head o' shaggy heaeir,
An' sleek brown cwoat that he do weaere,
An' collar that did reach so high
'S his two red ears, or perty nigh,
He swung his taeil, wi' steps o' pride,
Back right an' left, vrom zide to zide,
A-walken on, wi' heavy strides
A half behind, an' half upzides."
"Who's that?" cried Jimmy, all agog;
An' thought he had her now han'-pat,
"That's Simon Heaere," but no, "Who's that?"
Cried she at woonce, "Why Uncle's dog,
Wi' what have you a-been misled
I wonder. Tell me what I zaid."
Woone evenen as she zot bezide
The wall the ranglen vine do hide,
A-prattlen on, as she did zend
Her needle, at her vinger's end.
On drough the work she had in hand,
Zome bran-new thing that she'd a-plann'd,
Jim overheaerd her talk ageaen
O' Robin Hine, ov Ivy Leaene,
"Oh! no, what he!" she cried in scorn,
"I woulden gie a penny vor'n;
The best ov him's outzide in view;
His cwoat is gay enough, 'tis true,
But then the wold vo'k didden bring
En up to know a single thing,
An' as vor zingen,--what do seem
His zingen's nothen but a scream."
"So ho!" cried Jim, "Who's that, then, Meaery,
That you be now a-talken o'?"
He thought to catch her then, but, no,
Cried Polly, "Oh! why Jeaene's caneaery,
Wi' what have you a-been misled,
I wonder. Tell me what I zaid."

THE GIANTS IN TREAeDES.

GRAMFER'S FEAeBLE.

(_How the steam engine come about._)

_Vier, Air, E'th, Water_, wer a-meaede
Good worke