"Where do you go with your basket? Who's in need?" "Though 'tis not polite to ask it, Swans I feed." "Will they eat what's in the basket, All of it?" "Though 'tis not polite to ask it, Every bit." "Where, when empty is your basket, Go you then?" "Though 'tis not polite to ask it, Home again." E. HELPING MOTHER. WHAT is little Susan doing with that big water-bucket? It is a heavy load for her, and she tugs at it with a right good will. If the water does not all leak out before she gets into the kitchen, she will fill the teakettle. She is trying to make herself useful, you see. [Illustration] With that cap on her head, and that long apron, she fancies herself quite grown up, and able to do Bridget's work. She thinks she is helping mother. But, when her mother sees the water spilt about the well, I think she will say that the little girl has only been doing mischief. A. B. C. [Illustration] THE SQUIRREL. ONCE upon a time a squirrel Scampered quickly up a tree; There he sat, and from the branches Chattered gayly unto me. "I am Mr. Brownie Squirrel, And my home is in the ground: There I live; but in this nut-tree Oftener I may be found. "Long before the bright sun rises, Here to gather nuts I roam: They'll be needed in the winter By my little ones at home. "For when shrill the north wind whistles Through these branches black and bare, When the nuts and leaves have vanished, And the snow fills all the air-- "Then, to pay me for my trouble, I'll have plenty and to spare. Safe at home I'll pass the winter, Little for the storm I'll care. [Illustration] "That reminds me I am idle; While I'm talking here to you. Why, dear me! how dark it's growing! And I still have work to do." Throwing then a nutshell at me, Winking with his eyes so bright, Off he scampered through the branches, Where he soon was lost to sight. Grandma heard about the squirrel, Straightway then did grandma make Many little squirrels like it,-- Only hers were made of cake! AUNTY GAY. ROLY-POLY. Words by OLIVE A. WADSWORTH. Music by T. CRAMPTON. [Illustration: Music] 1. Roly-Poly is three years old; Yes, three years old and a trifle over; Roly-Poly is round as a ball, As jolly as larks, and sweet as clover. Roly-Poly has stars for eyes, A heavenly chin with a dimple in it; Peaches for cheeks, the bud of a nose, And a tongue that is never still a minute.