O wad some power the giftie gie us To see ourselves as others see us, It wad frae monie a blunder free us, And foolish notion. —_Robert Burns._ THE ANT AND THE CRICKET. [Illustration] A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing Through the warm sunny months of gay summer and spring, Began to complain, when he found that at home His cupboard was empty and winter was come. Not a crumb to be found On the snow-covered ground; Not a flower could he see, Not a leaf on a tree: “Oh, what will come,” says the cricket, “of me?” At last by starvation and famine made bold, All dripping with wet and all trembling with cold, Away he set off to a miserly ant, To see if, to keep him alive he would grant Him a shelter from rain: A mouthful of grain He wished only to borrow, He’d repay it to-morrow: If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow. Says the ant to the cricket, “I’m your servant and friend, But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend; But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by When the weather was warm?” Said the cricket, “Not I. My heart was so light That I sang day and night, For all nature looked gay.” “You _sang_, sir, you say? Go then,” said the ant, “and _dance_ winter away.” Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket And out of the door turned the poor little cricket. Though this is a fable, the moral is good; If you live without work, you must live without food. —_Unknown._ [Illustration] A GOOD LISTENER. It is the Listener who is just now in far greater demand than the Talker. Let us all learn the Fine Art of Good Listening. —_Kate Upson Clark._ _There Was a Crooked Man._ There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile: He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a little crooked house. _Little Bo-Peep._ Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can’t tell where to find them; Leave them alone, and they’ll come home, And bring their tails behind them. Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamed she heard them bleating; But when she awoke, she found it a joke, For they were still a-fleeting. Then up she took her little crook, Determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they’d left all their tails behind ’em. _Peter Piper._