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2. Up flies Bobolincoln, perching on an apple-tree, Startled by his rival's song, quickened by his raillery ;

Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curveting in the air, And merrily he turns about, and warns him to beware!

""Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the rushes O!

But wait a week, till flowers are cheery,-wait a week, and ere you marry,

Be sure of a house, wherein to tarry!

Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait!"

3. Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little mellow;

Follow, follow, follow, follow, o'er the hill, and in the hollow!

Merrily, merrily, there they hie; now they rise, and now they fly,

They cross and turn, and in and out, and down in the middle and wheel about

With a "Phew, shew, Wadolincoln! listen to me, Bobolincoln!

Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily doing,

That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover!

Bobolincoln, Wadolincoln, Winterseeble, follow,

follow me!"

Wilson Flagg.

STEP II.-LOVE.

HOW THE CRICKETS BROUGHT GOOD

FORTUNE.

1. My friend Jacques went into a baker's shop one day to buy a little cake which he had fancied in passing. He had intended it for a child whose appetite was gone, and who could be coaxed to eat only by amusing him. He thought that such a pretty loaf might tempt even the sick. While he waited for his change, a little boy six or eight years old, in poor but perfectly clean clothes, entered the baker's shop. "Ma'am," said he to the baker's wife, mother sent me for a loaf of bread." The woman climbed upon the counter (this happened in a country town), took from the shelf of four-pound loaves the best one she could find, and put it into the arms of the little boy.

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2. My friend Jacques then first observed the thin and thoughtful face of the little fellow. It contrasted strongly with the round, open countenance of the great loaf, of which he was taking the greatest care.

"Have you any money?" said the baker's wife. The little boy's eyes grew sad. "No, ma'am,” said he, hugging the loaf closer to his thin blouse;

"but mother told me to say that she would come and speak to you about it to-morrow."

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"Run along," said the good woman; carry your bread home, child.”

"Thank you, ma'am," said the poor little fellow. 3. My friend Jacques came forward for his money. He had put his purchase into his pocket, and was about to go, when he found the child with the big loaf, whom he supposed to be half-way home, standing stock-still behind him.

4. "What are you doing there?" said the baker's wife to the child, whom she also thought to be fairly off. "Don't you like the bread?"

"Oh yes, ma'am," said the child.

"Well, then, carry it to your mother, my little friend. If you wait any longer she will think you are playing by the way, and you will get a scolding." 5. The child did not seem to hear. Something else absorbed his attention.

The baker's wife went up to him, and gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder. "What are you thinking about?" said she.

"Ma'am," said the little boy, "what is it that sings?"

"There is no singing," said she.

"Yes," cried the little fellow.

Queek, queek, queek, queek!"

"Hear it!

My friend and the woman both listened, but they could hear nothing, unless it was the song of the crickets, frequent guests in bakers' houses.

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