When the rain patters down,
I let it wet my crown;
And now and then I sip

A drop with my lip.

Hip, hip, hop.

And now I catch a fly,
And now I wink my eye,
And now I take a hop,
And now and then I stop.

Hip, hip, hop.

And this is all I do,

And yet they say it's true,
That the toad's face is sad,

And his bite is very bad.

Hip, hip, hop.

Oh! naughty folks they be
Who tell such tales of me;
For I'm an honest toad,
Just living by the road.

Hip, hip, hop.

MERRY'S MUSEUM.

ROBIN REDBREAST'S SECRET.
I'M little Robin Redbreast, sir,
My nest is in the tree;
If you look up in yonder elm,
My pleasant home you'll see.

We made it very soft and nice-
My pretty mate and I-
And all the time we work'd at it,
We sang most merrily.

The green leaves shade our lovely home
From the hot scorching sun;

So many birds live in the tree,
We do not want for fun.

The light breeze gently rocks our nest,
And hushes us to sleep;

We're up betimes to sing our song,
And the first daylight greet.

I have a secret I would like
The little girls to know;
But I won't tell a single boy-
They rob the poor birds so.

We have four pretty little nests,
We watch them with great care;
Full fifty eggs are in this tree-
Don't tell the boys they're here.

Joe Thompson robb'd the nest last year,

And year before Tom Brown;

I'll tell it loud as I can sing,

To every one in town.

Swallow and sparrow, lark and thrush,

Will tell you just the same: To make us all so sorrowful,

Is such a wicked shame!

ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOOK.

Oh! did you hear the concert
This morning from our tree?
We give it every morning

Just as the clock strikes three.

We praise our great Creator,
Whose holy love we share :

Dear children, learn to praise Him too,

For all His tender care.

YOUTH'S PENNY GAZETTE.

79

MY BROTHER.

WHO often with me kindly play'd,
And all my little playthings made,
My kite and ball,-though still unpaid?
My brother!

Who made a sled when winter came,
With little ropes to draw the same,

And on its sides carved out my

name

?

My brother!

And who was it that taught to me
The way to read my A, B, C,

And mark'd them on the slate for me?

My brother!

Who gather'd apples from the tree,
Chestnuts and walnuts, too, for me!
Who cheerful did all this ? but thee,

Then may I ever grateful be

My brother!

For all thy kindness shown to me,

And ne'er withdraw my love from thee,

My brother!

TAYLOR.