Over the hills and far away, There's a beautiful, wonderful place, Where happy babies in gardens play, With mothers dressed all in lace,-- Dressed all in lace and in silken gown, With flowers in their hair,-- Where trees with blossoms are laden down, And perfumes fill the air. DISOBEDIENCE "Wait, Kitty; here's soap and water, And I must wash your face; For the way you do it with your paws Is simply a disgrace!" _But Kitty didn't wait!_ [Illustration: "WHO SPEAKS FIRST?" FROM AN ENGRAVING OF THE PAINTING BY ARTHUR J. ELSLEY.] FOR A LITTLE GIRL OF THREE. BY UNCLE NED. _Moo, moo!_ What can I do For my little girl of three? I will eat the sweet grass, I will give her a glass Of my milk for her tea; Moo, moo! that 's what I'll do For my dear little maiden of three. _Mew, mew!_ What can I do For my little girl of three? I will catch all the mice, And they shall not come twice To the cake, you'll see; Mew, mew! that's what I'll do For my sweet little maiden of three. _Bow-wow!_ I will go now With my little girl of three; I will make a great noise; I will frighten the boys, For they all fear me; Bow-wow! that is just how I'll guard my sweet maiden of three. _Neigh, neigh!_ Out of the way For my little girl of three! I will give her a ride, We will canter and glide O'er the meadowy lea; Neigh, neigh! that's just the way I'll help my sweet maiden of three. A FUNNY FAMILY There was a little lady she was'nt very big She had a spotted cow ... Also a spotted pig ... Her dress had dots ... Her dog had lots ... it was a funny family but oh so very trig LITTLE BY LITTLE. When Charley awoke one morning, he looked from the window, and saw the ground deeply covered with snow. On the side of the house nearest the kitchen, the snow was piled higher than Charley's head. "We must have a path through this snow," said his father. "I would make one if I had time. But I must be at the office early this morning. "Do you think you could make the path, my son?" he asked little Charley. "I? Why, the snow is higher than my head! How could I ever cut a path through that snow?" "How? Why, by doing it _little_ by _little_. Suppose you try," said the father, as he left for his office. So Charley got the snowshovel and set to work. He threw up first one shovelful, and then another; but it was slow work. "I don't think I can do it, mother," he said. "A shovelful is so little, and there is such a heap of snow." "Little by little, Charley," said his mother. "That snow fell in tiny bits, flake by flake, but you see what a great pile it has made."