She'd point like this, she'd point like that, The scholars she'd entrance-- "This, children, is America; And this, you see, is France. "A highland here, an island there, 'Round which the waters roll; And this is Pa-ta-go-ni-ah, And this is the frozen Pole." Young William's bishop called one day, But found the curate out, And so he told the curate's wife What he had come about "Your merit William oft to me Most highly doth extol; I trust, my dear, you always try To elevate the soul." _Then William's wife made the bishop a neat little curtsey, and gently said: "Oh, yes, your Grace, I always do--in my own peculiar way."_ She danced like this, she danced like that, The bishop looked aghast; He could not see her mazy skirts, They switched around so fast. She tripped it here, she skipped it there, The bishop's eyes did roll-- "God bless me! 'tis a pleasant way To elevate the sole!" THE HOSS BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY The hoss he is a splendud beast; He is man's friend, as heaven desined, And, search the world from west to east, No honester you'll ever find! Some calls the hoss "a pore dumb brute," And yit, like Him who died fer you, I say, as I theyr charge refute, "'Fergive; they know not what they do!'" No wiser animal makes tracks Upon these earthly shores, and hence Arose the axium, true as facts, Extoled by all, as "Good hoss-sense!" The hoss is strong, and knows his stren'th,-- You hitch him up a time er two And lash him, and he'll go his len'th And kick the dashboard out fer you! But, treat him allus good and kind, And never strike him with a stick, Ner aggervate him, and you'll find He'll never do a hostile trick. A hoss whose master tends him right And worters him with daily care, Will do your biddin' with delight, And act as docile as _you_ air. He'll paw and prance to hear your praise, Because he's learn't to love you well; And, though you can't tell what he says, He'll nicker all he wants to tell. He knows you when you slam the gate At early dawn, upon your way Unto the barn, and snorts elate, To git his corn, er oats, er hay. He knows you, as the orphant knows The folks that loves her like theyr own, And raises her and "finds" her clothes, And "schools" her tel a womern-grown! I claim no hoss will harm a man, Ner kick, ner run away, cavort, Stump-suck, er balk, er "catamaran," Ef you'll jest treat him as you ort. But when I see the beast abused, And clubbed around as I've saw some, I want to see his owner noosed, And jest yanked up like Absolum! Of course they's differunce in stock,-- A hoss that has a little yeer, And slender build, and shaller hock, Can beat his shadder, mighty near!