A milkmaid who poised a full pail on her head, Thus mused on her prospects in life, it is said:-- Let me see, I should think that this milk will procure One hundred good eggs or fourscore, to be sure. Well then, stop a bit, it must not be forgotten, Some of these may be broken, and some may be rotten; But if twenty for accident should be detached, It will leave me just sixty sounds eggs to be hatched. Well, sixty sound eggs--no, sound chickens I mean: Of these some may die--we’ll suppose seventeen; Seventeen, not so many!--say ten at the most, Which will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast. But then there’s their barley, how much will they need? Why, they take but one grain at a time when they feed, So that’s a mere trifle;--now then, let me see, At a fair market-price how much money there’ll be. Six shillings a pair, five, four, three-and-six, To prevent all mistakes that low price I will fix; Now what will that make? Fifty chickens I said; Fifty times three-and-six?--I’ll ask brother Ned. Oh! but stop, three-and-sixpence a pair I must sell them! Well, a pair is a couple; now then let us tell them. A couple in fifty will go (my poor brain), Why just a score times, and five pairs will remain. Twenty-five pairs of fowls, now how tiresome it is That I can’t reckon up such money as this. Well there’s no use in trying, so let’s give a guess-- I’ll say twenty pounds, and it can be no less. Twenty pounds I am certain will buy me a cow, Thirty geese and two turkeys, eight pigs and a sow; Now if these turn out well, at the end of the year I shall fill both my pockets with guineas, ’tis clear. Forgetting her burden when this she had said, The maid superciliously tossed up her head, When, alas for her prospects! her milkpail descended, And so all her schemes for the future were ended. This moral, I think, may be safely attached-- “Reckon not on your chickens before they are hatched!” JEFFREYS TAYLOR. FABLE.