The Great Creator in His love divine Makes the earth tae blossom an' the sun tae shine, The birdies tae sing, sae charmin' an' rare; O, they gledden the hert when I'm weary wi' care. THE PHOTO. Dear friend, your photo I received; It's really very good; So please accept my thanks in rhyme-- You've caught me in the mood. Though the photographic art is great, And wonderful withal, No shade can be as good to me As the original. Thanks; I will safely keep and Your beautiful reflection, And every time I look at it 'Twill bring to recollection A pleasant summer holiday 'Mid rural scenes so fair; In ease of mind, with friends so kind, My memory lingers there. "SOMETHING WRANG." _Lines on seeing a delicate boy, on a cold day, thinly clad, wearing boots minus the soles._ Puir wee shilpit, feckless bairn, Ma hert is sair tae see ye; An' tho' I haena' muckle pooer I'll dae ma best tae help ye. I hae a pound that I had saved Against a rainy day; 'Twad burn ma pooch while ye're in want, I'll spend it come what may. An' when it's dune some ither freen' May tak' thy hapless form, An' biel ye frae the frosty wun' An' frae the winter storm. Ye'r sad dark een look intae mine An gie ma hert a pang, They humbly tell, tho' tongue be still, There's shairly something wrang. Then tae a system that's accurs't May every ill betide That winna fin' the bairns in meat An' raiment fit provide. THE FLU'. _On falling a victim to influenza while on holiday._ Mercy me! is this the way That I maun spen' ma holiday? Groanin' wi' pains in legs an' back, Ma reason fairly on the rack? The sun beats warm upon the plain, An' yet I'm shiverin' tae the bane; Stounin' pains gang thro' ma heid, Makin' me wish that I was deid. Ma nose is rinnin' like a stream; Blear't an' a'most blin' ma e'en; Within ma throat the microbes rife Are cuttin' chords wi' roostit knife. There's no a joint in a' ma frame But what has got an achin' pain; The sicht o' meat fair mak's me grue; A thoosan' curses on the flu'! WEE JIM. Wha is't that toddles oot an' in? Wee Jim. An' wha when cross kicks up a din? Wee Jim. Wha, when he's pleased, wi' lauchin' e'e, Comes rinnin' frae his mither's knee An' distributes his kisses free? Wee Jim. Wha is't that has a curly pow? Wee Jim. Wha sets his granny's hearth alowe? Wee Jim. Wha, when in mischief or in fun Mak's face an' han's as black's the lum', Is threatened wi' a skelpit bum? Wee Jim.