"Now, he didn't give you that baby, by a hundred thousan' mile! He just think you need some sunshine, an' He lent it for a while! An' He let you keep an' love it till your hearts were bigger grown; An' dese silver tears your sheddin's jest de interes' on the loan. "Here's yer oder pretty childrun!--doan' be makin' it appear Dat your love got sort o' 'nopolised by dis little fellow here; Don' pile up too much your sorrow on dere little mental shelves, So's to kind 'o set 'em wonderin' if dey're no account demselves. "Just you think, you poor deah mounahs, creepin' long o'er Sorrow's way, What a blessed little pic-nic dis yere baby's got to-day! Your good faders and good moders crowd de little fellow round In de angel-tended garden ob de big Plantation Ground. "An' dey ask him, 'Was your feet sore?' an' take off his little shoes, An' dey wash him, an' dey kiss him, an' dey say--'Now what's de news?' An' de Lawd done cut his tongue loose, den de little fellow say-- 'All our folks down in the valley tries to keep de hebbenly way.' "An' his eyes dey brightly sparkle at de pretty things he view; Den a tear come an' he whispers--'But I want my parents too!' But de Angel Chief Musician teach dat boy a little song-- Says 'If only dey be fait'ful dey will soon be comin' 'long.' An' he'll get an' education dat will proberbly be worth Seberal times as much as any you could buy for him on earth; He'll be in de Lawd's big schoolhouse, widout no contempt or fear; While dere's no end to the bad tings might have happened to him here. "So, my pooah dejected mounahs, let your hearts wid Jesus rest, An' don't go to critercisin' dat ar One w'at knows the best! He have sent us many comforts--He have right to take away-- To the Lawd be praise an' glory now and ever! Let us pray!" WILL CARLETON. _DER SHPIDER UND DER FLY._ I reads in Yawcob's shtory book, A couple veeks ago, Von firsd-rade boem, vot I dinks Der beoples all should know. I'd ask dis goot conundhrum, too, Vich ve should brofit by: "'Vill you indo mine parlor valk?' Says der Shpider off der fly." Dot set me dinking, righdt avay, Und vhen, von afternoon, A shbeculator he comes in Und dells me, pooty soon, He haf silfer mine to sell, Und ask me eef I puy, I dink off der oxberience Off dot plue-pottle fly. Der oder day, vhen on der cars I vent by Nie Yorck oudt, I meets a fraulein on der train, Who dold me, mit a pout, She likes der Deutscher shentlemans Und dells me sit peside her-- I says: "Mine friendt, I vas no fly, Eef you vas peen a shpider."