QUOG, quog, quog, quog! A very unmusical note: This eminent basso, Mr. Frog, Has surely a cold in his throat. But he does his best, with a good intent, The little speckled man; For every frog must sing in Lent, As loud as ever he can. Quog, quog, quog, quog! When the morning sky is red, He sits on the slippery, mossy log, With the rushes over his head. He does his best, with a good intent, The little sprawling man; For every frog must sing in Lent, As loud as ever he can. Quog, quog, quog, quog! When the evening sky is pale, He nestles low in the sheltering bog, While the gentle dews exhale. He does his best, with a good intent, The little struggling man; For every frog must sing in Lent, As loud as ever he can. Quog, quog, quog, quog! He strains till he shakes the reeds, And scares his neighbor, Miss Polly Wog As she hides in the water-reeds. He does his best, with a good intent, The little panting man; For every frog must sing in Lent, As loud as ever he can. Quog, quog, quog, quog! Oh! aren't you afraid you'll burst? You should have put on, dear Mr. Frog, Your girdle of leather first. But on he goes, with his good intent, The little gasping man; For every frog must sing in Lent, As loud as ever he can. OLIVE A. WADSWORTH. [Illustration: DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.] A WOODCHUCK HUNT. ONE September morning, before breakfast, Ned and Harry went woodchuck hunting. They took Dick, who is a big, fat, spotted coach-dog, and Gyp, a little black-and-tan, with short ears, and afraid of a mouse,--both "such splendid hunters," Harry said. Gyp ran ahead on three legs; and Dick walked sedately behind. Ned carried the bow, and Harry, the three arrows: and it was enough to make any wise woodchuck tremble to see them. First they crossed a potato-field, and then a meadow where there was a brook, and where they lost Gyp so often among the bogs, that Harry carried him at last so as to know where he was. Dick ran through the brook, and shook himself over Ned's new sailor-suit; but that was no matter. Then they came to a rickety old stone wall, and Dick barked. "It must be a woodchuck in the wall. We've got him!" shouted Ned. "Down comes the wall!" Then the stones fell; and Gyp jumped up and down with excitement, while Dick gave a low and terrible growl. "He must be here," said Ned.