How quiet she is, and how patient, As she waits till the breakfast-bell rings! She never is greedy or fussy, Never pouts, never breaks my nice things. [Illustration] And now shake your hand, little dolly, For "good-night" to the folks, and "by-by!" Ah! she's tired with playing, poor Dolly, And so, my own mother, am I. W. G. SUSIE'S DANCING-LESSON. WHEN Susie is fretful and peevish,--which, I am glad to say, is not often,--there is nobody who can put her in good humor so quickly as her grown-up sister Ann. She knows just how to deal with the little girl. Thus Ann will say, "What is the matter, Susie? Are you hungry? No. Are you sleepy? Not a bit of it. Do you want me to tell you a story? No. Are you tired? No. I have it: you want a good dose of exercise. That is the very thing you need. Come here now, and I'll give you a dancing-lesson." [Illustration] She takes Susie's hands, and whirls her out on the floor before she has time to say a word. Then Ann begins to sing,-- "Here we go up, up, up, And here we go down, down, down-y; Here we go this way and that, And here we go round, round, round-y," dancing all the time, and whisking Susie about the room in such a lively way, that the child has to laugh in spite of herself. Susie soon gets in great glee, and always wants to have another dance. "What!" says Ann. "Haven't you had dancing enough? Well, then, how would you like a fancy dance? Mind your steps now. Do as you see me do. Keep time with the music. "Up and down, fast and slow, Hop and skip, and away we go; Round and round, and jump Jim Crow: Oh, won't we dance the polka!" So the little girl is danced about until she has to stop to take breath; and by that time she is so full of fun, that there is no room for a frown on her pretty face. Jane Oliver. FIVE LITTLE SPARROWS. FIVE little sparrows sitting in a row Under a bench, in the darkness and the snow, Homeless and cold in the lonesome city square: What are the little birdies doing there? Huddled up close in a wretched little heap, Uttering only a soft and plaintive "cheep," Crowding together to keep each other warm,-- Poor little birdies hiding from the storm! [Illustration] Up in the tree-boughs, high above their heads, Are their pretty houses with straw and feather-beds: Why do the birdies leave their shelter warm To cuddle on a snow-bank, and shiver in the storm? But, in the morning when the sun came out, Then we could see how the trouble came about: Several saucy squirrels, the very day before, Had moved into their houses, and turned them out of door! ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN. DOBBIN'S COMPLAINT.